You'd probably still be waiting for this if smc didn't threaten to cross over the border and kill me. I've sort of strayed and fallen into a rabbit hole as far as this story goes. Beware of the Jabberwock, my friends.

Time for my meds Josh. Please don't sue. I own nothing. Hell, I'll even give you the rights to the original characters.

Chapter Four

Trey laughed as Ryan tightly closed his eyes and moved the phone away from his ear. He didn't have to hear the words directed at his brother. Ryan's expression said everything.

The Cohens were worried.

Shit.

All he wanted was to see his brother before he'd disappeared. It was supposed to be quick and easy. He hadn't counted on Ryan waking up. The fact that his younger brother had slept through most of his surprise visit showed him that the Cohens had given Ryan something the Atwoods never did.

Freedom from fear… Of always having to be on your guard… Always waiting…

The wrath of Sandy Cohen could have been the Eighth Horseman of the Apocalypse. Ryan had pulled the phone away from his ear, but only as an act of preservation.

Ruptured ear drum? Been there, done that, thanks to Dawn's boyfriend of the month number two. He switched the phone to his left hand and brought it back up.

Concern.

Anger.

The fury in Sandy's voice had been fueled by worry.

That came through, loud and clear.

It took a few more minutes of listening to Sandy's diatribe before Ryan could get a word in.

"I'm sorry…"

"Oh… You better believe you're sorry… No TV, no Play Station, no iPod. I'd take away your cell phone, but apparently, you don't know how to use it 'cause that's the only reason I can think of why you didn't call us before now…"

Cellphone? Shit…

Ryan reached into the left inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out the small Razr V3 the Cohens had given him. Fuck… Kirsten was probably going to have it surgically implanted in the part of his body that rarely saw the light of day. Then again he'd be lucky if he ever saw the outside of Casa Cohen again without a GPS up his ass as well.

Trey saw his brother pull something from his pocket, staring at it. Walking over, he saw it was a cell phone and yanked it from Ryan's hand.

"Ryan… Are you listening to me?"

The silence on the other end had unnerved Sandy.

"Yeah… uh,… Hey! Cut it out…" Ryan fired back at Trey, who had just cuffed him again.

"You had this all the time and you didn't call them?"

"Is Trey with you?"

"Yeah… I mean no… I forgot I had it." Ryan answered both questions.

"Ryan, put Trey on the phone… Now…"

He held out the phone to the older Atwood.

"Trey?"

The bravado was gone as Trey nervously licked his lips and searched his pockets, only to come up with chocolate bar wrappers and an empty cigarette package. Ryan took a few steps back, lighting his own cigarette and inhaling. Hard.

Trey put the phone to his ear just as Ryan exhaled, blowing smoke in his brother's direction.

"Prick." He muttered as he grabbed the cigarette from Ryan.

"Excuse me?"

Sandy.

Phone.

Seriously beyond pissed off.

"Sorry uh, Mr. Cohen…"

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in? That you managed to drag Ryan into?"

"It wasn't supposed to be like this…. I didn't mean…"

Sandy lost it.

"Just like you didn't mean Thanksgiving last year?"

Trey glanced up at Ryan.

"He told you?"

"Of course he didn't tell us, but it didn't take a genius to figure out something happened when he came back from seeing you and he's got a black eye and a busted cheek bone. Now, you've escaped from prison and made Ryan an accessory after the fact!"

Trey looked down at his canvas runners as Sandy's words hit home. And then he did what he always did when cornered. He fought back.

"I don't know what you want with Ryan, but he's my brother. My family…I'll look out for him." Trey growled.

Ryan's head snapped up.

"Trey… What the fuck?"

"You took him with you to steal a car. You call that looking out for him?" Sandy shot back, instantly regretting his tone, but not the words. He had no intention of fighting with Trey. His main concern was Ryan's safety.

"Gimme the phone." Ryan snatched the phone out of Trey's hand and watched him stalk off to the edge of the pier, leaning on the edge of the rail, looking out at the turbulent waves. He heard Sandy as soon as he brought the phone up.

"Look Trey… I'm sorry…"

"It's me…" Ryan said quietly.

"Where are you?" Sandy forced himself to stay calm.

"We're at the pier, um, Balboa… Sandy, I'm,uh…"

"I know and believe me when I tell you we'll talk about this later, but right now we need to figure this out.

"He wants to go back…"

"He what?" Sandy had heard what Ryan said, but he was having trouble processing it.

"Trey… he…. He didn't plan this… you know…. He just…. We need your help."

This was the first time he'd asked the Cohen's for help. After a year and a half, Sandy realized this was the first time Ryan had asked for anything.

"You know I'll do everything I can. I'll have to make a couple of phone calls first and then I'm coming to get you. You two stay put. I'll be there in about 45 minutes okay? Just sit tight. I'll see you soon…"

I love you.

Three words left unspoken.

Ryan pulled out another cigarette and lit it before walking over to his brother and offering him the rest of the pack. Trey lit his own.

"He seemed pretty pissed at me."

Ryan's non-committal shrug answered for him.

"What's going to happen now?"

"He'll be here soon. Said he's going to make some calls…"

The brothers watched as the waves crashed into the pilings with a growing intensity, violently swirling around the large logs. The skies were greying and the wind was picking up. Nature was providing the visual backdrop for the feelings that were going through their minds. This would be the last time they'd spend time together without the confines of fences and barbed wire for a long while.

Sandy hung up the phone and gathered his thoughts. He felt Kirsten's arms enfold him.

"He's okay…" He whispered.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The pier was deserted except for the two brothers that stood, watching the ocean.

"I guess I fucked things up for you with the Cohens…"

"It's okay…. I'll be grounded for a while… have to watch Stallone movies with Sandy…"

Ryan smiled at the look Trey gave him.

"The Cohens are a little weird. Me or Seth get into trouble and we gotta spend time with the 'rents."

Trey raised his eyebrows at Ryan's referral to the Cohens as parents. Ryan looked down, embarrassed by his slip.

"It's okay bro. From the way Cohen came down on me, it's pretty clear he cares."

"Yeah… I got lucky…"

"So did they… Don't ever forget that."

As they waited for Sandy in a comfortable quietness punctuated only by the sounds of the raging water, they were unaware they were being watched.

5:27 PM

Sandy breathed a sigh of relief when he hung up the phone again. Kirsten had been holding Ryan's wrist cuff, absently playing with the edges. She looked up expectantly.

"As far as the feds are concerned Ryan's not going to be charged as an accessory. They're going to want to talk to him, but they're more interested in getting Trey back. I'm meeting them down by the pier…"

Kirsten picked up Sandy's keys.

"I'm coming with you… Let's go get our kid…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Balboa pier employed a security firm to help keep its citizens safe and protected from the outside world. Private cops licensed by the county to carry weapons. The majority of officers were retired police, looking to supplement a comfortable pension. Unfortunately there was always one or two who viewed this type of work as a stepping stone to a law enforcement career.

Jeff Costello was one of these.

The wannabe cop watched as the two young men leaned against the railing, looking out into the Pacific. The taller one matched the police print out of an escaped felon.

The shorter one? He didn't match any descriptions, but if he was with the other than he was going down as well.

This was going to be his ticket to the big leagues.

The rain had started pouring just as Sandy and Kirsten pulled into a parking lot. Agents Torres and Fielding met up with them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen… We'd like to get this done as quickly as possible. We'll need you to stay here and we'll bring Ryan to you." Agent Fielding stated in a clipped voice.

Sandy shook his head.

"No… Since Trey Atwood is turning himself in, I'm going to be there as his attorney when you take him into custody. He and Ryan are on the pier. There's no where for him to go."

The two agents looked at each other. Agent Torres nodded.

"Okay… we'll do it your way." He said, looking at Sandy.

Sandy flipped open his phone and dialed Ryan's cell.

You better answer it this time, kiddo.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Trey was now sitting on the railing, his back to the ocean. Ryan still stared out at the water.

"Wanna get out of the rain?"

Trey shook his head.

"Nah… It's gonna be a while before I feel it again… Guess you're still hauling' my ass out of trouble… It should have been the other way around… I should have been protectin' you…"

Ryan stepped back and looked at his brother.

"We looked out for each other."

The muffled ringing of his cell phone interrupted the brotherly moment. He pulled it out of his pocket and opened it.

"Hello?"

"Ryan… I'm glad you figured out how to answer your phone." Sandy's voice softened. "The feds are here for Trey… I'm coming up with them."

Ryan swallowed several times before he could respond.

" 'Kay… Thanks again Sandy…"

"I'll be there in a minute… Sit tight…"

"FREEZE…..GET YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM…"

Ryan looked up to see a rent-a-cop, his gun drawn.

"Ryan… What the hell is going on?" Sandy yelled into the phone as he broke into a run, Torres and Fielding on his heels.

A gun shot.

Agent Torres tackled Jeff Costello before he had a chance to fire off a second round.

Sandy was still several yards away and could only watch as Trey fell off the railing.

He was still shouting as he watched Ryan jump in after his brother.