Title: Firebug
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The O.C.. Not for profit.
Description: There is a fire at Harbor. Arson. Guess who is the prime suspect?

Author's Note: This is the final chapter. This story is finished. Thanks so much to everybody who reviewed/commented. And a final thanks to fredsmith518 for her beta work.

Chapter 7

Kirsten paused in the middle of setting the table for dinner, smiling to herself at the happy-teenager sounds which were emanating from the family room. She stood next to the kitchen table for a minute and watched Seth and Ryan, who were deeply engrossed in playing their video game. Usually, she and Sandy had the boys do chores, like setting the table, but today she decided to let them keep playing. Ryan sounded so happy – for the first time in a while – and she didn't want to disturb that.

Kirsten sighed. The past few weeks, since Ryan had been dragged down to the police station and interrogated, had been tense all around. Everyone just sitting around and waiting to hear. Hear something. Anything. And they hadn't. Heard anything, that is. Well, nothing official anyway. Sandy, of course, was still in touch with his contacts, who were keeping him up-to-date on the detective's activities. Sandy kept saying that it was good they hadn't heard anything officially; it meant that the cops hadn't found any evidence against Ryan.

Kirsten frowned. While that might be true, she just wished that all this would just be over and done with. Soon. For Ryan's sake. At least all of the comments about Ryan's presumed involvement had died down a little, both at school and with the Newpsies, what with nothing happening in the last weeks. That was good, anyway.

Kirsten's thoughts were interrupted when she heard the front door close.

"Good evening, family!" Kirsten smiled. Sandy.

As she waited for her husband to appear, she heard the video game sounds go off in the family room. Obviously, Seth and Ryan had heard Sandy come home, too. He walked into the kitchen with a big smile and several bags of take-out, which he set down on the kitchen island. When Kirsten went over to open them up, Sandy leaned over and planted a big kiss on her cheek.

She giggled. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"I've got good news." He looked around. "Where are the boys?" Just then, they walked into the kitchen. "Oh, good. Could you guys finish setting the table while your mother and I get the food out?"

Ryan replied, "Sure."

While the boys went ahead and did as requested, Kirsten started pulling the food out of the containers. She snuck a glance at Sandy, who was grabbing some drinks from the fridge. She hoped that his good news was what she thought it was.

Finally, they were finished eating dinner. Sandy had made them wait for his good news until then.

"Okay, Sandy. We're done. Now, if you don't tell us what's going on, I promise you, you'll be lonely tonight."

Seth groaned and covered his ears. "Ew, Mother. Too much information." Kirsten and Sandy laughed at Seth's discomfort.

Sandy finally gave in. "Okay, okay. I got a call today, from Hodes, the A.D.A. You remember him?" After receiving a few nods, Sandy continued, "He told me that the police are dropping the case."

Kirsten was ecstatic. She gave Ryan a smile. "That's great! I am so glad this is over."

Ryan smiled back and gave a sigh of relief.

Seth reached over and grabbed Ryan's shoulder. "Dude, we so have to give you a party. Since you didn't get one on your birthday –"

Sandy put his hands up. "Hold on, everybody. This doesn't mean that the case is closed."

At a couple confused looks from the boys, he explained, "It's... you know... like you see on TV, a cold case file?" The boys nodded. "The police have done all the investigating they can. They've sifted through all the evidence, talked to anybody and everybody who might know anything –"

Seth mumbled under his breath, "No kidding."

Kirsten figured he was thinking about how he and the other students had been all herded into the gym to be interviewed at the school.

Sandy continued as if Seth hadn't spoken, "– pursued all possible suspects, and haven't been able to solve the case. So they've dropped the investigation."

Kirsten was still confused. "But what about Ryan?"

Sandy looked at Ryan with compassion. "This is good and bad for you, Ryan." Sandy pushed aside his empty plate and leaned forward on the table. "You won't be bothered by the police about this any more. And this means that they are giving up, for now anyway, on trying to prove that you did it. There is no chance now that you'll be arrested."

Ryan gave Sandy a half-smile.

Sandy continued. "That's the good news. The bad news is that the case will be left open, and you'll still be listed as the prime suspect. It will still be on your record that way."

Ryan's face fell. He looked down and started picking at his leftover food, not meeting anyone's eyes.

Kirsten couldn't blame him for reacting like that. It really didn't sound very good. She sighed. She could just hear it now. Everybody would be saying that of course Ryan did it and how horrible it was that he was able to get away with it. It made her blood boil, just thinking about how that was what people would think. She looked at Ryan. Poor kid.

Seth spoke up. "But wait." He looked at Ryan. "What about Luke's suggestion? We can all get together and try to figure out who did it. You know, go undercover and –"

Sandy interrupted. "Seth. That's not going to do any good. The police have been investigating for weeks and haven't been able to find proof, one way or the other. And the private investigator we hired to try and clear Ryan couldn't find anything, either. I don't think you kids are going to be able to do any better."

Ryan agreed. "Yeah, Seth. Just drop it, okay?"

Seth sighed in defeat. "Yeah, okay." After a moment, he continued. "But I don't get it, then. Who actually set the fire? Were they trying to frame Ryan? Or was that like, a coincidence?"

Kirsten answered. "We'll probably never know, Honey." Unfortunately.

Kirsten watched Ryan for a moment. Unfortunately for Ryan.

Ryan noticed that, after the case was dropped, word got around quickly and everything started going back to normal. Oh, sure, people still thought he did it – except for the Cohens and his friends who had been with him from the very beginning – but they didn't say it out loud as much, either at school or elsewhere. And he was still going to school. There had been some rumblings from the board and the parents' association about trying to expel him, but Sandy and Kirsten had stopped that in its tracks by threatening to sue the school if they made any move against him.

No, Ryan's main problem now was Mr. Schmidt. Ever since the fire, and himself being accused of it, he'd noticed Mr. S. had been treating him differently. Like he was afraid of him. Afraid that any wrong move he made, any wrong thing he said, that Ryan would fly off the handle and attack him or something. Finally, one day, Ryan decided he had to say something, after watching Mr. Schmidt yell at several students in class for doing something that Ryan himself had also done, saying nothing to Ryan.

So he stayed in class after it was over. Once all the other students were gone, he took a deep breath and steeled himself. "Mr. Schmidt?"

When the teacher looked up from his papers and saw that it was Ryan, and that it was just the two of them there, Ryan could see him get nervous, his eyes darting around, like he was looking for backup. Ryan sighed and approached the desk slowly.

"Look. You don't have to treat me with kid gloves."

Mr. Schmidt cleared his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ryan sighed. It figured he would say that. "Listen, I'm not the one who set your office on fire. You don't have to tiptoe around me. You can go back to treating me like everyone else. I'm not some high-strung psycho who's going to come after you for some little insult or something."

Mr. S. looked down and fiddled with the class papers. Ryan smiled to himself. He could tell that he'd hit the nail on the head. He couldn't help but turn the screw a little tighter.

"But, you know, since it wasn't me, we don't know who it was." He gestured around at the empty classroom. "It could have been anybody in this class, or one of your other classes. Maybe you should think about that."

Mr. Schmidt looked at Ryan in surprise. Obviously that had never occurred to him. Ryan smiled. "Think about it."

Then he left go to lunch, leaving the math teacher with a lot to think about.

Epilogue

Near the end of the school year, Ryan took some time on a Saturday morning to lay back on the pool house bed, stare at the ceiling, and think back on the last few months.

After the whole fire thing was kind of over, life and school went on. Anna left to go back to Pittsburgh. Luke was discovered having an affair with Julie Cooper, of all people, and later left town with his father and moved to Portland. Theresa came and went. The Nana came for Passover. Ryan himself got back together with Marissa. Julie and Caleb got engaged.

Ryan frowned to himself. But even through all that, people continued to think that he had set the fire. Although, as with his previous indiscretions, the amount of looks and comments he got decreased over time. It was too bad, though, that they'd never been able to find anything to clear him. And that they'd never know who really did it.

But then Ryan thought of something else which made him feel better.

Apparently Mr. Schmidt had taken Ryan's comments to heart. Before, he would yell at the students in his classes all the time. Usually, it was for some reason – that is, not for no reason – but, still, usually for something petty, not worth yelling so much about. And when he wasn't yelling, he was so boring that the students often drifted off and stopped paying attention. Ryan knew that he did, at least. But then when someone did, and got caught, they'd get yelled at for their inattentiveness. Ryan had heard one of his classmates liken it to what he's heard about being at war: long periods of boredom followed by short bursts of terror. No wonder all the kids hated Mr. Schmidt.

But ever since their little after-class chat, Mr. S. had really changed his ways and was treating all the students better, not just Ryan. He wasn't yelling so much. Hardly at all, in fact. And he even seemed to be treating the students with more respect. Perhaps it was respect based on fear – or wariness anyway – but at least it was respect. And students didn't seem to dread attending his classes any more, now that he was more easygoing.

Ryan smiled to himself. Maybe there was a silver lining to this cloud after all.

The End