AN: First of all, thanks heaps and mounds for the reviews as usual. Just want to touch on a few things people say from time to time in the emails and relentless reviews that I bask in – people are so funny sometimes.

I get so many people telling me I make them cry – holy crap! My writing is capable of that? I mean, I'm definitely not made of stone myself, I but I've only gotten teary-eyed writing one of my chapters so far, and that was the last one, seventeen…but whoa, glad I can really get people emotional, that's good to know!

The other thing I find quite funny is that I get indefinite people asking Ryan to get better, and the same amount telling me to torture him more…I laugh. It's great, really. But folks, he's at my capable fingers. No telling what shall happen next. I don't know why, but the chapter outlines I wrote are now shot to hell and I refuse to use them. I want to see where this story takes me. It ain't over yet.

A final note – so many people want to see poor Ryan lose his hair! I'm getting there people, don't rush me! Kidding, kidding. But more importantly what I want to point out is that not ALL people lose their hair because of chemotherapy. Some just don't, honestly. So yes…guess you'll have to read to find out more.

And Beachtree…what, are you trying to top yourself with even more thoughtful, extensive, LONG reviews? You're a machine, woman! I…I love it!

Sorry for using up time…and space. Please, do read on. And review. Of course.

FADING – Chapter Eighteen

Monday

For some bizarre, indescribable reason, it didn't feel like any ordinary Monday. Ryan couldn't quite put his finger on it, but as he opened his eyes and sighed, stretching slightly and wincing at the familiar stab of pain coursing up and down his spine, he knew that somehow this day wasn't going to be like the others he'd had so far.

The bed was really, surprisingly, abnormally warm – in a good way. Ryan usually had to wrap himself in his blankets before even attempting to get out of bed most mornings. If it were a day that he would in fact even get out of bed at all, that is. But this morning as the bright sunlight flooded in through the window and shone directly in his eyes and warmed the skin on his face, the bed felt like a cocoon of heat.

And it was moving…on its own.

Ryan shifted in surprise and turned his head to the left only to sigh in relief and sink back down into his pillows, closing his eyes.

"You totally forgot I was here, didn't you?" Seth chirped happily as he rested his head on a fist, peering down at Ryan with wide, amused eyes. His tousled brown curls were in disarray and he had an almost laughable pillow crease across the side of his face. But the humongous grin spread from ear to ear was what really made Ryan want to laugh. "You so did, Ryan. Don't try to deny it. You should have seen your expression. It was the face of a person seeing Julie Cooper first thing in the morning without having a sufficient amount of caffeine in their system yet. My father designed that face, Ryan. It's momentary horror." He laughed, and then attempted to do a fairly good impression.

Ryan smiled and snatched the pillow out from under his foster brother's head, smacking Seth across the face with it. "I did not look like that." He growled half-heartedly.

"Oh, you so did not just do that." Seth countered, grabbing back his pillow and sitting up in bed, swinging it back with two hands.

Grabbing it before the offending object could hit its target, Ryan snatched it out of Seth's grip and started beating him until he was lying on his back, cries of "uncle" ringing shrilly through the room.

"What in God's name is going on in here…?" Sandy's voice began out in the hall, his slipper-clad footsteps pounding the carpet until the guestroom door swung open and he stood silently in the doorway, dark hair standing straight up on his head, his navy bathrobe hanging open.

Ryan and Seth froze in their positions, Ryan's face flushed and a pillow poised over his head, ready to swing. Seth lay like an over-turned bug, his arms and legs in the air helplessly evading the attack. Both boys stared at the doorway, looking at Sandy with innocent eyes.

His mouth hanging open in shock, Sandy finally let out a tiny "oh". A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of his lips before he tried to look serious again, glaring between his two sons. "You do know it's six in the morning, right?"

"Yes." Ryan and Seth answered simultaneously.

Sandy nodded. "Okay." He muttered to himself, another tiny smile. "Just checking." Then with a shake of his head, he turned and started down the hall.

"Man, is he ever not a morning pers…" Seth's words were muffled by the mouthful of pillow that hit him squarely in the face. When he opened his eyes again, Ryan was grinning smugly. "Dude! That was so not cool, we were on a time out!" Seth exclaimed, frantically fixing his hair.

Ryan shook his head. "No…" he said, pretending to think. "You didn't call it. That doesn't count." He pointed out, his head cocked to one side,

Seth reached for a larger pillow. "Well, Rule Boy. Does this count?" he declared, and brought his weapon down across the top of Ryan's head.

"Seth, don't make me hurt you." Ryan warned, climbing up onto his knees and gripping his pillow in his right hand, glaring down at his foster brother menacingly.

With a laugh, Seth waggled an eyebrow. "Ohh, so you think you're tough, is that it, Ry?" He mocked, tightening his hold on the end of his pillow. Raising it again over his head, he prepared to make a hard hit. "Well I've got news for you, Kid Chino. I'm the bus driver, and I take everyone to school…"

A hand pulled the pillow out of his grasp as it had been hovering over his head, ready to hit its target. "Seth Ezekiel." Kirsten's voice began dangerously. "Tell me that if I hadn't stopped you, you wouldn't have hit Ryan in the face."

Ryan watched as the smile died from Seth's face almost comically and he slowly turned around to find his mother standing over him, glaring with angry, disapproving blue eyes. "Oh…kay…I wouldn't have." Seth began meekly. Then he looked away and grinned. "Except then it would have been a lame-ass pillow fight." He muttered under his breath.

Kirsten's eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. "Seth." She growled.

"Kirsten, I started it." Ryan jumped in, unable to keep from chuckling at the fear in Seth's eyes. "It was harmless, I swear. I'm fine. Better than fine." He promised, looking at her more seriously.

Her face softening slightly, Kirsten placed the pillow carefully back on the bed. She tried to smile at Ryan and still glare at Seth at the same time. "Better than fine?" She repeated.

Ryan nodded. "I…feel really good today." He said, looking down at the mess of blankets tangled around his legs. When he glanced up again, Seth and Kirsten were smiling at him, their eyes shining. Blushing slightly, Ryan looked away again. "What?" He laughed.

"That's…really great, man." Seth said. His face was practically beaming.

Still smiling, Kirsten leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Want some breakfast?" She asked him softly.

Swallowing, Ryan nodded, and looked her in the eye. "Yeah." He said, grinning lopsidedly. Then he cleared his throat. "Seth and I woke you guys up so early…we'll make breakfast. As a peace offering."

"Whoa, dude. Don't speak for me. Mom, I do not condone this." Seth spoke up instantly, glancing between his mother and Ryan with a look of panic on his face. "No, no, the pillow fight was merely a pre-sleep-in interlude, if you will. Plenty of morning left, plenty of dozing to do." He said, and flopped back down onto the bed, curling up into a ball and closing his eyes.

Kirsten hit him in the face with Ryan's pillow.

"Hey!" Seth cried, sitting up and rubbing his nose. "I thought you said no more hitting!"

Shrugging, Kirsten tossed the pillow back to her foster son. "No. I said no more hitting Ryan. You're fair game." She smirked, throwing Ryan one last smile before striding out of the room.

Seth looked pointedly at Ryan and glanced at the pillow in his hands, then back to his face. "Don't even think about it, dude."

Kirsten stopped in the doorway and turned back around, a puzzled expression on her face. "When Sandy said that you two were both in here, in the same bed, having a pillow fight, I was surprised." She began, cocking her head. "What I had to come see for myself was Seth Cohen up before noon in the summer."

Seth blew out a long sigh and gave his mother a withering look as he swung his legs to the side of the bed and pushed himself up. "People change, mother." He said, smiling at her innocently until she left the room. Then he turned to glance at his foster brother. "Come on, bro. Let's go make your God forsaken breakfast." Seth relented, shuffling across the floor.

Ryan threw a pillow at his retreating back. "Lead the way, bus driver."


"I must be dreaming. I haven't smelled bacon in…" Sandy trailed off, his eyes unfocused as he got lost in thought, his hands busily making a well-perfected knot in his tie. "I can't remember the last time I smelled bacon."

Ryan grinned at him over his shoulder and returned his attention to the pan spitting and hissing on the element.

Seth came up behind him and clapped a hand on his foster brother's shoulder. "Yes father, Ryan here volunteered us for breakfast duty." He said with a sigh. "And now, as you can see, we are slaving away over a hot stove to prepare you an adequate meal." He swiped at his brow dramatically.

"Seth, shut up." Ryan warned, pointing metal tongs at his son's chest. "I only put you in charge of bagels. That's the easiest job there is."

Sandy's eyes widened. "Oh, Ryan. Bite your tongue." He shook his head, staring into Ryan's confused, bewildered eyes with a look of amusement. "The bagel is an art…"

"See, that's what I've been trying to tell you." Seth heaved a sigh, looking triumphant. "Ryan, dude, you must have known this. You've been living in the Cohen household…how long?" He asked sarcastically.

Rolling his eyes, Ryan glared at the two Cohen men and hunched over the frying pan. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry." He relented. "Go, Seth. Perfect the art that is the bagel. I'll never belittle it again."

Seth grinned. "That's more like it."

Kirsten came into the kitchen still wrapped snugly in her bathrobe as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Nothing beats bacon." His wife sighed, a blissful expression on her face. She peered over Ryan's shoulder at the food cooking on the stove and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, sweetie." She said into his ear.

"But bacon doesn't beat bagels, right mom?" Seth asked frantically as the button popped on the toaster and he retrieved two toasted slices.

Kirsten pursed her lips but then shook her head. "Hmm…nope. Sorry, Seth." She said as she took a seat at the kitchen table, cradling her mug with both hands. "I'd take bacon over bagels any day."

Ryan shot Seth and Sandy an "I told you so" look. "See." He said smugly.

Narrowing his eyes at his mother, Seth scowled. "Turncoat traitor." He muttered under his breath.

As Ryan and Seth set platefuls of food around the table, Sandy took a seat beside his wife, leaning across the gap to give her a kiss. "This bathrobe thing is…" he began, looking her up and down.

Kirsten's face fell slightly. "Pathetic?" she asked, her eyebrows arched.

"Disturbingly hot." Sandy corrected her, rewarded with a grin and another kiss.

"Ugh. No. Not now. There's food present, you guys." Seth whined as he and Ryan sat down at the usual spots and began pouring orange juice into their glasses. "Mom, I know you're enjoying your morning off, but please. Put something on. This doesn't feel…" He grimaced. "Right. You're supposed to be sporting the power suit, ranting and raving about how much you're pissed at grandpa and hating Julie Cooper."

Smiling smugly, Kirsten shook her head. "Not today." She said with a happy sigh. "The next few weeks are purely relaxation. No meetings, no nothing." She nodded to herself as she heaped bacon onto her plate

Sandy looked at Ryan briefly from across the table, and saw the uncertain, guilty look in his eyes. He presumed that Kirsten hadn't told the boys yet that she had been semi-fired. That being her choice, of course. "Honey, taking the rest of the summer off was a great idea. You really needed it." Sandy told her, and she looked at him knowingly. "Frankly, I'm a bit jealous." He chuckled.

"But mom, what are you going to do with yourself?" Seth asked curiously. "I mean, I can't remember the last time you took a vacation…do you even understand the meaning of the word?"

Shooting their son a glare, Kirsten pushed her hair out of her eyes. "I'll have you know I've already planned my day." She grinned triumphantly, and began counting off on her fingers. "Yogalates at ten, a massage at noon, lunch back here with you boys at one thirty…"

"Ah! Stop right there, mom." Seth exclaimed, covering his ears with both hands. "The whole point of a vacation is to not have a schedule. By planning out your whole day you're entirely defeating the purpose of sloth and relaxation." He explained with a wise and knowing look.

Ryan cocked his head to one side. "Isn't sloth one of the seven deadly sins?" He asked playfully.

"Ignore him." Seth nodded to Ryan, and Sandy couldn't help but share a laugh with his foster son. "Mother, de-schedule your day. Erase the plans. Start afresh. Throw caution to the wind…"

"Seth." Kirsten interrupted, silencing him with a look. "I get the picture."

Seth nodded. "As long as we're reached an understanding."

Kirsten's expression turned serious, and Sandy watched as she looked across the table at Ryan. "While we're on the topic of schedules…" She tried to begin casually. Ryan looked up and they locked eyes. "You were supposed to have a chemo session today at the hospital. Do you remember?" Kirsten asked, smiling gently.

Ryan cleared his throat and abruptly put down his fork, staring at his food in dismay. "Uh, no." he said quietly. Then he glanced up at Sandy and Kirsten. "I forgot. Sorry."

"Whoa, whoa…" Seth interjected, staring at his mother. "I heard a 'supposed to' in there." He said tilting his head in a gesture of curiosity.

Her expression bemused, Sandy watched as Kirsten strained to mask a smile as she dabbed her mouth with the corner of her napkin, replacing it carefully on her lap, her eyes lowered all the while. "Well, when I talked to Dr. Collins yesterday we decided that after the beach incident that today's appointment would depend on how Ryan was feeling." She explained slowly, and then she looked up and locked eyes with Ryan again. "And I just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago. We decided that you're too sick today," her eyes flashed in amusement, "and rescheduled for tomorrow."

Sandy watched as Ryan's face lit up into a hesitant smile, and he shared the barest of looks with Kirsten, their eyes meeting silently. His wife just nodded.

"Oh, talk about karma, bro!" Seth crowed, throwing his hands up in the air and swiveling in his seat to look at his foster brother. "This is awesome. It calls for celebration, dude. I'm calling Summer. Marissa, even. If you want, I mean. And we'll…go swimming. Maybe even down to the pier. Sweet Moses, the possibilities are endless!"

"Seth." Sandy warned, holding up a hand. "Slow down. Ryan is just getting over being sick; you don't want to do too much too soon. Maybe you should just take it easy today." He shrugged, seeing his son's crestfallen look.

"Sandy." Ryan's eyes were wide and hopeful. "I want to go out. I need to do…something." He glanced at Seth, and then dragged his eyes up to look between Sandy and Kirsten. "If that's okay, I mean." His blue eyes pleaded.

Sandy felt Kirsten's hand snake into his lap and grab his own, giving it a tender squeeze. "Of course, honey." She told him, a warm, practically ecstatic smile on her face.

Ryan smiled – a real, genuine smile, and grabbed a piece of bacon, happily popping it into his mouth. Seth's erratic banter demanded his attention, and Ryan happily obliged. Sandy grinned at his wife, and then resumed eating his breakfast.


"Chino, do you ever need a tan." Summer said with a grimace as she floated leisurely on an inflatable pool chair. She looked at Ryan critically from where he lay on one of the deck recliners on the patio, wearing only his swim trunks and a scowl. Summer hadn't seen Ryan without a shirt on since before he had cancer, and he looked even thinner than she had imagined he would. "You're beyond pasty now. You make Cohen look like Bermuda Bob."

Seth swatted her arm as he swam over to her chair, pulling his goggles up onto his forehead to give her a wounded look. "Hey!" He exclaimed, pouting. "And who the hell is Bermuda Bob?"

Ryan didn't bother to open his eyes. "Kinda the purpose of the sunbathing, Summer." He told her, and from beside him in a matching chair, Marissa giggled. "But thanks for the input." Ryan said sarcastically with a mock-salute.

"No problem." Summer said, tucking a stray piece of hair back up into her bun. The only way she'd allowed Cohen to persuade her to go swimming with him was on the condition that her hair didn't get wet. Chlorine was a bitch. "Because if Nicole Kidman and Casper the ghost hooked up, you'd be their offspring."

Marissa tried to look shocked and stop the smile that spread onto her face at the same time. "Summer!" She laughed, glancing at Ryan.

But Ryan was smiling, too. "Well, it's true!" Summer defended herself, laying back and adjusting the straps of her bikini.

Seth's head popped up at her side from beneath the surface and she glared at him warningly as he grabbed her armrest. "You've got an amazing bedside manner, Summer." He said sarcastically.

"What bedside?" Summer rolled her eyes and flicked away a drop of water that threatened to roll off the plastic and onto her shoulder. "Look at him. Does he look like he's in need of someone to patronize him right now?" She pointed poolside and they both watched for a few moments as Ryan talked animatedly with Marissa, just barely making out the words they exchanged.

Seth nodded. "You have a point." He narrowed his eyes and watched them more closely. "Did she just say the word 'therapy'?" He asked in disbelief.

With a nod, Summer flicked Seth's forehead to get his attention and give Ryan and Marissa some privacy. "Her mom convinced her to go back to her psychiatrist. You know, after the whole drinking thing…" She watched as Seth nodded, wincing at the memory. "Yeah, well, between me and Julie Cooper, we make a pretty good team. After a bit of cajoling Marissa gave in and now she's going twice a week." She nodded to herself triumphantly.

"Alright Summer!" Seth declared, raising a hand for her to high-five.

"Cohen!" She cried as water dripped from his elbow onto her perfectly tanned stomach. Reaching out, she smacked him across the top of his head. "Get any more water on me and you're done for. Clear?"

Seth gulped. "Crystal." They fell into silence again, Summer resting peacefully on her raft as Seth rested his head on her arm, their gaze slowly wandering back to the deck chairs where Ryan and Marissa were turned onto their sides, their eyes locked as their conversation continued. "Think they're gonna be okay now? Like, is it going to ease smoothly back into Ryan and Marissa mode?"

Summer didn't look away from her two friends. "I'm not sure." She replied honestly. "I think she really hurt him. And Marissa knows that. She told me that they just have to take it slow. I guess we'll just see where it goes from there." She sighed softly.

Suddenly Seth's head snapped back to Summer and he stared at her, his eyes wide. "Shit. Ryan saw me. He so knows we're talking about him." He said nervously, bringing up a hand to shield the side of his face from Ryan's glare.

With a roll of her eyes, Summer lay her head back on her inflated pillow. "Cohen, grow up." She said, peering at him from under her sunglasses. "What are you, in the fifth grade? Ryan won't care…" she looked up just in time to see the other boy sprinting across the cement to launch himself into the pool, careening towards Seth and Summer with a devilish grin on his face.

Summer's float upturned in one fluid motion and she was flipped off with a shriek of surprise. When she kicked frantically to breach the surface, she gasped for air spluttering and cursing as she blinked water from her eyes, Marissa's delighted laughs ringing through her ears from her lawn chair. Letting out a growl of anger, Summer whipped around to let out a string of profanities at Ryan's giggling, wet face when a hand wrapped around her foot and pulled her under again.

When she gave Seth a well-deserved underwater punch and swam her way to the top again, she smacked Ryan's arm and shoved Seth's head under the water as she made her way back to her raft. "Ugh, I hate you two!" She screamed, glaring at them as she plucked her sunglasses from the water. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to straighten my hair?"

Ryan just laughed at her. "I'd be worried if I did." He chuckled, holding up his hands in front of himself when Summer shot him a dangerous glare. "Sorry. You were having a heated discussion. Looked like you needed cooling off." He grinned at her menacingly.

"Shut up." Summer snapped as she wrung out her sopping hair. She looked up to see Marissa standing at the ledge of the pool, her face beet red from laughing as she clutched at her stomach and pointed at Summer. "You think it's so funny?" Summer reached out and grabbed Marissa's ankle, pulling hard until her best friend lost her balance and teetered towards the pool with a startled cry.

Summer didn't mind the splash. When Marissa broke the surface and gaped at her friend in disbelief, Summer just grinned at her sweetly. "Summer!" Marissa exclaimed, and proceeded to start a full fledged splashing fight.

From the corner of her eye, Summer saw Ryan grin at Seth one more time and swim to the ladder out of the pool. Once he was on land again, he reached for his towel and began drying himself off. In the middle of finger drying his hair, he stopped suddenly, and his face froze in shock, his eyes wide and his skin draining of color before her eyes. Summer stopped splashing and watched him in concern. Ryan stood like that for what seemed like forever, and Summer's pulse started pounding in her ears as she struggled to understand what could possibly have gone wrong.

When Ryan finally pulled a hand away from his head and Summer caught sight of the small clump of hair he held in a white knuckled grip, her breath caught in her lungs and she felt her heart sink. Summer's hand flung out and she grabbed blindly for her boyfriend, gripping his arm until her nails made marks in his skin. "Seth." She managed to squeak out.

Ryan tore his panic stricken eyes away from his hand and glanced fleetingly towards his friends for one agonizing moment. Then his mouth clamped shut and his face hardened as he spun on his heel and practically ran into the house.

Before the door could even shut behind him, Seth broke away from Summer and swam quickly to the ledge of the pool and hastily pulled himself up onto the patio. She watched wordlessly as he didn't even bother to get a towel as jogged into the house, leaving a trail of water behind him.


Ryan looked at himself in the mirror, and haunted, devastated eyes stared back. He checked once more to ensure that the door to the bathroom was locked before he brought his hand up and finally unclenched his fingers, staring with morbid fascination at the small handful of hair that lay in his palm.

He swallowed over the lump that had formed in his throat. He hadn't been pulling that hard. He was sure of it. One minute he was drying his hair, and the next minute it was in his hand. Just like that.

Forcing his eyes away from his shaking hand, Ryan held his fist over the trash can and slowly turned until his palm was facing the floor. He watched as the hair fell to the ceramic bottom before he forced his mind to start working again, and frantically he covered the evidence with balled up wads of Kleenex.

It never happened, he told himself.

That done, he leaned against the counter and willed his heart to stop pounding in his chest, for his labored breathing to slow down and return to normal. After a moment Ryan opened his eyes again and glared hard at his reflection. He wondered briefly what he could have possibly done for his body to betray him. He thought he'd been lucky. He thought that this was one thing he wouldn't have to go through.

He hadn't expected to be wrong.

Leaning forward he inspected the top of his head in the mirror. He almost couldn't find the spot that the hair could come from. Gently, he skimmed his fingers across the top of his head, giving an experimental tug every now and then. Nothing. Maybe it had just been a fluke.

Someone knocked on the door. "Ryan?" Seth's worried voice came from the other side. "You in there, bud?"

Ryan held his breath and didn't say anything. Maybe Seth wouldn't know he was there. Maybe he'd go away and Ryan wouldn't have to face everyone.

The door handle jiggled and then there was another, gentler knock. "Ryan, come on." Seth's voice pleaded, and Ryan let out the breath he'd been holding. There was no way he could escape him now. "Ry, just let me in, bro. Just let me talk to you for a moment."

Closing his eyes, Ryan breathed deeply for a few moments. He wanted more than anything to tell him to go away. He didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone, or have anyone look at him. He just wanted to tell Seth to leave. But he knew he couldn't afford to do that anymore. So reluctantly, he opened the door.

Seth was leaning silently against the doorjamb wearing a navy t-shirt that was already soaking through at the chest. His usually springy brown curls were wet and matted against his head, and he had a painfully sad look in his eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched a few times as he grasped for words, his eyes dancing across Ryan's face in concern. "Are you okay?" He asked gently.

Ryan sucked in a breath and looked away, nodding. "Yeah." He said hurriedly, easing out the doorway and standing awkwardly in the hall, his towel wrapped around his shoulders and his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"Let me get you another towel." Seth said as he disappeared for a moment, holding out a large, fluffy white towel when he returned, and draping it around his foster brother's frame.

Ryan hadn't realized he'd been shivering until he registered the sound of his teeth chattering loudly in his ears. "Thanks."

Seth nodded, and bit his lip, watching Ryan in trepidation for a moment. Then he sighed. "Come back outside, Ryan." He begged, even though he knew that his friend would say no. "It doesn't matter. I promise, it doesn't. Just come back out and sit in the sun like you were doing. I won't let Summer make anymore pale jokes." He tried to smile, but failed miserably.

Shaking his head, Ryan gave Seth a barely reassuring look. "No thanks. I'm going to go upstairs. I'm really tired." He looked away and stared at the floor. Then he gestured out to the patio through the window. "You go back, though. The girls are waiting for you." He took a few backward steps down the hall.

Seth went to follow him. "Ryan…"

But it was too much, and he couldn't stand there anymore. "I'm sorry." Ryan said, glancing up at Seth once before turning and heading for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He didn't look back because he didn't want to see Seth standing below watching him, with that look on his face.


Seth turned on the tap and ran the soapy dish in his hands under the stream of water, letting the suds wash down the drain. He knew his parents would probably have a heart attack if they knew he was voluntarily doing the dishes, but it was only because if he didn't he was sure he'd find Ryan doing them later. Ever since Ryan had reappeared from his bedroom late that afternoon, he'd suddenly had a burning desire to do chores. Why, Seth couldn't possibly imagine. But before an unusually quiet and somewhat awkward family dinner, Ryan had managed to do two loads of laundry, clean the pool house, and change his sheets.

The parental units had asked their son about Ryan's odd change in mood from that morning, and Seth had reluctantly, quietly, told Sandy what had happened as they were watching TV before dinner. His father's face had fallen and immediately he had wanted to go upstairs and talk to his foster son, but Seth had managed to convince him that confrontation was the last thing Ryan needed at the moment. What he needed and was desperately seeking was to forget it had even happened.

When the last dish had been loaded into the dishwasher and the final piece of china lovingly hand cleaned and left drying in the rack, Seth wiped his hands on a towel and shoved them in his pockets, surveying the clean kitchen in silence. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

When he walked into the living room his parents were cuddled up on the couch, wrapped in one another's arms as they gazed into each other's eyes instead of the flickering of the television set in the dim light. Seth was tempted to making his usual quip about PDA's, but found, surprisingly, that he didn't have the energy. "Hey." He said as he neared the couch.

His mother looked up at him and smiled. "Hey there." Kirsten greeted, and then her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What were you doing in the kitchen just now?" She asked curiously.

"Nothing." Seth answered instantly, and looked around. "Where's Ryan?"

Sandy's expression was grim as he nodded to the staircase. "Last I saw him he was in his room." He said, and sighed. "Folding laundry. I threatened to ground him, but he called my bluff."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Great." He muttered and trotted for the stairs. "Somebody's got to stop that kid once and for all." He declared, and left his parents to each other's company once more. Maybe a little play station would do just the trick.

As he walked quickly down the hall, his goal Ryan's guest room, he passed his bathroom on the way and couldn't help but notice the door slightly ajar and the light on inside, flooding out into the hall. What made him stop dead in his tracks was the strangely familiar buzzing sound coming from inside. Silently, he backtracked and hesitated outside the door before slowly pushing it open.

The sound was familiar because it was the annoying hum of an electric razor Summer had bought him for his birthday. After its first use he had nicked himself beyond belief and now it forever lived in a drawer beside his sink, only making appearances when Summer was over and should for some bizarre reason decide to inspect his hygienic tools.

Ryan stood over the sink, the razor buzzing in his hand as he moved it slowly across his scalp, taking off row after row of hair that fell into a growing pile in the sink, leaving his hair shorn extremely short, very circa Justin Timberlake in the breakout artist days.

Seth didn't know what to do or say, and found himself hovering silently in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing helplessly like a goldfish he'd once had when he was eight. But he must have breathed loudly or made some other unpredictable body noise because suddenly Ryan whirled around and stared at him like he'd been caught red handed, the razor still buzzing annoyingly in his hand.

"Seth." He gaped, his eyes as wide as saucers. "What…I…" his voice trailed off and he stumbled for words, unable to tear his gaze away from Seth's face.

And there they were, standing a mere three feet away from one another, gaping like Bubbles the fish. Seth wanted to either say something encouraging, ask a question, or just turn around and abruptly leave. He contemplated the last choice the longest, because he was momentarily afraid that if he opened his mouth to speak, he'd burst out laughing because with half of his head in a buzz cut, Ryan looked like some form of a demented Bozo the Clown, a comment he was sure his foster brother wouldn't appreciate.

But words almost never failed Seth Cohen, and somehow they pushed their way past his lips. "This is a good look for you, man." He said, nodding decisively as he eyed Ryan's head with an approving look. "Um, however, might I ask what spurred this little style session on?"

Ryan's defensive posture drooped and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He turned off that incredibly annoying razor and looked at Seth with a defeated look in his eyes. "I don't know how to explain it to you, Seth." He mumbled tiredly.

Stopping only to close the bathroom door at his back, Seth crossed his arms and locked onto Ryan's gaze. "Try me." He countered.

"Look, after today it's become pretty apparent that inevitably my hair is gonna be gone, one way or another." Ryan began, his voice nearly shouting, which seemed to surprise them both. "You have no idea what I'm going through, Seth. Everyday. I have no control over this whatsoever and I'm not used to that. So right now I'm taking control of the one thing I can, while I still can." His voice trailed off and his eyes fell to the floor, resigned and looking terribly alone.

Seth didn't really know what to say to that. He was still standing there looking just as defensive as Ryan had looked moments before, and he couldn't deny that he felt a little bit of anger. He wanted to shout back, curse Ryan out for not letting him in, or letting anyone in, and that was why no one knew what he was going through. But they'd had that fight enough times now and it never seemed to get them anywhere.

Ryan shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't understand." He said softly.

Suddenly Seth moved on autopilot. His feet propelled him forward and he took the razor out of Ryan's hand, ignoring his brother's look of outrage. Then he thumbed the button on and without a moment of hesitation, ran the buzzing blades through his own dark, curly hair, watching in the mirror as Ryan's face paled with shock, his eyes widening, and his jaw hanging open. "Seth…" he gasped in disbelief as locks of Seth's famously coiffed hair joined his own in the sink. "What are you doing?"

Seth barely looked up from his task. "Doing mine, and then finishing yours." He replied shortly, then returning his eyes back into the mirror as he went to work shaving his hair down to a neat, short half-inch.

"But Seth…" Ryan was still gaping at him, his expression a combination of gratitude and surprise. "Your hair is your thing…you don't even let people touch it."

With a shrug, Seth continued cutting. "It'll grow back." Then he glanced over his shoulder and grinned lopsidedly. "Well, quit staring at me. Sit down. I'm almost done, then we're moving onto yours."

Very slowly, Ryan relented and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. From where he was sitting, Seth could still see the wide blue eyes staring at his reflection in the mirror. Momentarily, Seth looked back at him, still struck by the utter confusion and dumbfounded look of awe on his foster brother's face. "Dude, what?" He asked, still grinning.

Ryan's mouth turned up into a ghost of a smile. "Seth?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."


AN: That last situation I borrowed from an episode of Sex And the City, I have to come by it honestly. It's an amazing exchange between two characters, and this pair is so vastly different from the two used in the other show that I felt it was safe to use. It fit so damned well…I hope you liked it. Review please! Cheers.

-Vancouverite