A/N: The O.C. and all its characters belong to Josh. I own nothing, don't sue….I have nothing to give you.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Ryan entered through the back kitchen carefully, pulling the door until it was almost closed behind him, but not enough to make noise. He could hear Seth still laughing in the next room, probably still going at his play station. Kirsten's giggle was followed by a chuckle, Sandy's, and Ryan knew he was safe.

Slowly he inched towards the hallway.

"Hey kid. How's Trey?"

Ryan jumped at the intrusion, and turned to face Sandy who'd entered the kitchen, bowl in his hand.

"You want some popcorn?" he asked, waving the bowl.

Ryan shook his head no, afraid to open his mouth for fear of blurting out his terrible secret.

'Trey and I are running away, and Trey stole your money.'

"You gonna come join us? Did Trey calm down any? I wanted to check on you guys, but I didn't want to intrude."

Ryan nodded his head.

Sandy frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?" he took a step towards him.

"I'm fine." Ryan blurted. "I'm just… I was gonna go grab a blanket and a change of clothes…so I could sleep in the pool house with Trey….We have a lot to talk about." He let out in a rush.

"So he's calmed down? Maybe I should go talk to him."

"No! I mean…he's still a little angry, but I talked him into staying…"

"He was going to leave? I thought he was joking…"

"Trey…Trey doesn't joke about those kinds of things. He doesn't really joke about anything…"

"Okay kid. You go get your stuff, and I'll let everyone know to stay clear of the pool house for the night."

Ryan nodded, inching towards the door.

"But know this, Ryan. This isn't your responsibility. You shouldn't have to look after Trey like this. I'm doing it your way for now, but if it gets out of hand, The Kirsten and I are taking over."

"Okay." Ryan replied.

'It's already out of hand,' he wanted to scream.

Sandy nodded, patted his shoulder once, and pulled another bag of popcorn out the cupboard. "So we'll see you both in the morning, right?"

"Yeah." Ryan nodded, stepping out of the kitchen.

See you in the morning.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"My mom thinks I'm anorexic."

"Are you?"

Marissa ripped her eyes away form the burning cigarette and stared at him. "No!"

"Okay. Sorry man. You just look a little-"

"Well I'm not! I eat. And I'm not stupid."

"Never said you were."

"So what's your story anyway? You just like sitting at the bottom or rich people's driveways?"

"I live here. I'm running away."

"Yeah right. Seth Cohen lives there, not you."

"It's true. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. Doesn't matter anymore—"

"Trey?" Ryan's voice split through the dark.

"Over here." Trey replied, standing up and tossing his smoke away as Ryan came around the edge of the driveway. "You came. I didn't think you would."

Ryan looked at his brother for a moment, and then his eyes flicked to Marissa. "You're my brother."

My brother who steals.

"Yeah, I am." Trey smiled. "You ready?" he nodded to the backpack.

Ryan nodded, again his eyes drifting to Marissa. "Who's that?"

"That's Marissa. Lives next door."

Ryan nodded.

"You know. I'm right here. You could talk to me instead of about me."

Both boys looked at her.

"Let's go." Trey finished, not looking at his brother.

"Where are you guys going?"

"Away." Trey replied. "Have fun with your…mom. Ry, we should probably catch the taxi down at the gate, in case the Cohens come out here to check."

Ryan nodded in agreement, tearing his eyes away from Marissa. "Let's go."

"Hey…" Marissa paused. "Do you think I could…Do you think I could come?"

Trey laughed. "We ain't stayin' here. We're goin' back to Chino. They'll eat you alive there."

Marissa set her shoulders. "It's better than being here."

Ryan looked at his brother, whom he could tell was contemplating it. "No."

Bother Trey and Marissa looked at him in surprise.

"You can't come. Trey, tell her she can't come."

Trey nodded, "Ry's right. You can't come." He turned to leave.

Marissa folded her arms across her chest as Ryan looked on.

"Come on Ryan, let's go."

"Just a minute. I'll meet you down there."

"Ryan."

"Just a minute!" Ryan snapped.

Trey mumbled an answer, and took off down the street.

Ryan stared at this girl as the silence around them resumed. Scratch that, there wasn't ever silence here. There was always a subtle crashing of waves against the beach. Soothing…

"Look. Whatever's got you so worked up you think you have to run away – "

"My mom wants to send me to a shrink."

Ryan stared.

"She thinks I'm anorexic."

"Just talk to her."

"Talk to my mom? You don't know my mom." She laughed.

"I know you can't run away just because of that."

"And why are you running away?"

Ryan hesitated. "I don't want to."

"Then why are you?"

"It's…complicated. I don't have a choice. Look, I've gotta go. But try talking to her, okay? Try explaining it."

Marissa said nothing as Ryan walked away. She sat down on the curb, watching the embers of the cigarette burn closer to her thumb and forefinger until it finally went out. Talk to my mom, yeah right. She forced a laugh, hurting her burning lungs even more. If only he knew.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Trey pounded his fist against the wooden door, the sound echoing down the dark hallways.

Ryan standing behind him felt as though he'd lost something. And he had. A friend. A potential family. He'd given that up, but being here, with Trey, that's what was right. Trey was his real family. His brother, his blood. The Cohens couldn't compete with that, could they?

The wooden door swung open suddenly revealing a chubby kid in a white muscle shirt. "What the hell…?"

"Hey Man, how's it goin'?"

The sweet and pungent smell of weed drifted out the front door, and Ryan held back a sigh. Gary. They'd gone to Gary's. He knew what this meant.

"Trey, man. What's up?"

"Ry and I need a place to crash. Just for a bit. Help us out?"

Ryan looked up, defiantly met Gary's eyes, who seemed to be noticing him for the first time.

"Lemme check with TJ. Come on in."

Ryan perched himself on the arm rest of the couch, staying close to his brother who'd thrown himself across it. Small bags full of weed were spread across the table in front of him, which was chipped and stained.

Gary entered the small room, followed by a taller guy. A man. Tanned and muscular, dark and intimidating. He nodded to Trey. "You gonna help with rent?"

Trey nodded, "You know I will man. This is my little brother Ryan. Ryan, that's TJ. Don't piss 'im off."

"And don't open your mouth, to anyone, about what you see here. Got it?"

Ryan nodded his head in response, too nervous to speak. He'd heard Trey talk about Gary, and about his brother TJ, but he'd never met them. Only heard about them. The beatings, the drugs, the alcohol, it was all bad. He'd told Trey, again and again, to stop going there, here, if it was so bad, but Trey kept returning. And now Ryan was here too. He didn't want to be.

He thought of the Cohens' place. The beach, the park. Even his mother's. He couldn't have any of it now. He'd ruined it. Trey had ruined it.

TJ, after exchanging a quiet conversation with Trey and Gary, left the room. "See man." Trey punched Ryan's shoulder, almost flinging him off the couch. "Told you they'd take care of us, that I'd take care of us. We don't need that rich bunch feeding us and feeling sorry for us until they can get rid of us. This is better. I promise it'll be better. No mom, no Greg. This'll be great."

"Yeah." Ryan replied, looking around the place. The carpet was stained with a variety of different colours, substances. He knew the dime bags held weed, was pretty sure a small mirror on the table had once held coke. Cans of beer were littered across the tables, ashtrays overflowing. He slid down onto the couch and leaned back. "Great."