Title: Heist.
Author: Cheekymice AKA Ms Evil McEvil.
Rating: Um…PG13-R
Beta: Brandywine. Thanks Brandy. waves Thanks to everyone who offered to beta. mwah
Disclaimer: I don't own The OC, Ryan or Benjamin McKenzie.
Story: As requested Hero! In peril Ryan! Yeay! All in the title really. Set post finale.
Notes:You can put down the big pointy sticks people. Okay, so this chapter was a bstard to write. But on reflection you might want to keep those sticks handy. I'm gonna be hiding under my bed away from mean ol' Storymom Hee...read on.

Heist

Chapter 7

One hundred and seven minutes. One hundred and seven minutes exactly since the first shot had been fired. Sandy had noticed the time when he'd put his arm out to pull Seth and Kirsten to the floor. How could their world change in that small amount of time?

Sandy was still reeling from the phone call. He didn't like games and he didn't like being used in that way. His brain hadn't even grasped what had happened and yet he'd had to confront it head on. Sandy was numb. He'd failed Ryan…essentially he'd sacrificed him to save Seth.

Ryan's death had gained Saul one hour. That's how long the police said it would take to get him a car and immunity to get away. One hour. The clock was ticking and Saul said he'd shoot someone else at the 60 minute mark if the police didn't come through. Time was up in nine minutes.

Who? One thing Sandy knew was if Saul touched one hair on Seth's head then he would kill him.

Sandy thought hard as he sat on the floor looking at Saul. He told himself at the start that he hadn't been able to do anything to help Ryan but that wasn't the case and he knew it…he'd let Saul march Ryan to his death without any real confrontation, a token threat was all he'd uttered. He had to keep Seth safe. That urge had been ingrained in him from the first moment his son had opened his eyes at the maternity hospital all those years ago.

It hit deep that he would have fought harder for Seth, that no matter how much he loved Ryan -Seth would always come first and what did that make him? He'd taken Ryan in on a supposedly equal footing to protect him from an unfit family who put him in danger but logically he could never be equal to Seth deep down and he hated himself for it. He was just as bad as most of the people in Ryan's past who thought he was disposable.

Ryan had died senselessly for immoral gain just by standing up for what he thought was right even though he knew the obvious dangers. How he managed to show that level of moral fiber Sandy would never know. Growing up as he had, he'd never understand how much he meant to them all. They never told him that enough. And now it was too late. Sandy looked over at Seth. He looked in total shock. He was shaking and pale, his eyes glassy and bright. How the hell would he get over this…how would any of them ever get over this day?

Ryan awoke with a start. The first thing that he noticed was the heat. It hit him like a wall of fire. The small room had rapidly turned into a furnace while he was out. The second thing he noticed was that his head felt like it was going to split in half when he moved. So he didn't.

He was still in the absolute darkness, as black and thick as treacle. His hands were still tied behind his back but he didn't even bother to try and get free again. When he tried to think - random thoughts came into his head. The day he'd bought his first stereo, kissing Theresa under the mistletoe at the mall, getting his ass kicked for forgetting to shut the front door by his mom's first boyfriend after his dad got sent down. It was like he was in the twilight world between sleep and waking where thoughts crowded your head in a mishmash of tangled confusion.

You're going to rot in here…you gotta get out. The thoughts rattled around his head.

Ryan blinked into the blackness. He cautiously rolled over on his back and shut his eyes against the oppressive darkness, thinking he could fool himself that he was laying on his bed at home and he wasn't here…wherever here was. He grasped at the fleeting images in his head that flitted and shifted away from him. It actually hurt to think but he forced himself to remember.

Things started to fall back into place. It was surreal, like an episode of CSI where blocks locked together to form a square. Things were missing but it was a start.

A bank, he was here in a bank. Why? He couldn't remember. He'd been angry with someone; he remembered feeling petulant and pissed off. Ryan frowned. Shit…Seth. Seth was here and Sandy. That was the thing he'd been trying to remember. He hadn't been alone. This was not Chino and they were not safe. He'd fucked up some way and put them all in danger, not just Seth and Sandy - but the other people too. The gunman had been angry with him and that was bad for them…very bad.

His body jerked sharply as the memory hit him, he saw himself kneel on the floor and wait for the gun to go off, he'd gritted his teeth and waited and waited but when the shot had come he'd found himself still kneeling with his heart in his mouth. The guy had leaned down as he tried to figure out why he wasn't dead and said he was giving him a second chance because he wasn't such a bad guy but if the cops didn't come through then he'd be back to do the job properly.

Dread filled Ryan's stomach. How long had he been in here? Would the door open soon and he'd have to live through that frigid fear again?

Maybe something had gone wrong and the Cohens were dead already or maybe he was and this was his own private purgatory.

Ryan tried to push the thoughts away but it was like his mind was in overdrive. The Cohens wouldn't leave him here. They cared.

His mind scoffed at him…families let you down. You couldn't trust them. Family, that was one clear thing Ryan could remember and the thought of his real family did not give him a warm rosy glow. Fights and screaming, beer and vomit, stress and anxiety that was what life in the Atwood household consisted off. The thing was, when he tried to think of life with the Cohens it was blank.

Ryan balled his fists behind his back and tried to think.

See…you can't even remember. So how can you be so sure your new family hasn't dumped you, forgotten about you? Face it. You're screwed either way.

No.

He tried to sit upright; his arms numb from being twisted behind him, he managed to struggle upwards. He felt weak and disorientated and his hands tingled from where his bonds bit into his wrists. His head swam and the left side of his neck felt stiff where he'd lain awkwardly. He slumped against the wall and used the hot burning surface to keep himself vertical even though the heat penetrated through his shirt and stung his arm. The air was thick, fetid and stale. It actually hurt to breathe; his lungs were burning like he'd smoked a hundred cigarettes. He coughed and couldn't catch his breath properly.

Think.

He could remember the robbery. That was clear in his head now. Flashes of gunfire and bodies lying on the floor screamed into focus and he could still smell the copper tang of blood on his clothes. Kirsten had gotten out; he could see her turning back and looking at him as she went. He hoped that was real. No, Seth and Sandy would be okay, they'd keep their mouths shut and their heads down. They weren't stupid like he was, but as Trey always said he had a knack for making things worse for himself.

Thinking about Trey made his thoughts fly off in that direction like a badly edited film. He didn't seem to have any control of the things in his head and that scared him…. he always had control.

He didn't want to think of the nagging doubts that he'd buried long ago.

He had the memories of Trey lying to him again and again. And Trey and Marissa spending time together…lots of time together.

His girl had only been spending time with Trey because he had asked. She hadn't sent his brother the wrong signals. She hadn't batted her eyes at him, hugged him, and made him think she was up for more than she was willing to give, made his brother think that she wanted more. She didn't play those dangerous games. Not with Oliver…or Johnny…or DJ…Volcok…himself. She didn't he told himself.

Yeah, right Ryan. Marissa was all about the thrill of the case, once she had you firmly snagged on the hook she backed away and she didn't want you anymore and you fell for it time and time again. You loved her but did she really love you or just what you represented. She liked the bad and the broken.

Shut up.

Hey, good job you killed her before she had a chance to meet dad right?

"No…no…it was an accident. It wasn't my fault." Ryan whispered to himself as the crash came hurtling sharply into focus. The smell of gas and hot rubber assaulted him.

The voice in his head sneered at him and played on all his neuroses and underlying fears that were always with him. His head hurt. That was why he couldn't focus or maybe he'd just finally lost his mind like Trey always said he would.

Ryan curled up in a tight ball with his forehead against his knees even though his back and head complained.

Feelings of rejection and not ever measuring up to people's expectations assaulted him, all the things he feared the most. Ryan shivered despite the stifling heat. His sweat slicked clothes felt cold against his skin sending a chill deep in his bones. His teeth started to chatter.

Ryan started to breathe heavily, trying to slake his body's desperate need for fresh air and partly in panic that he was having to cruelly acknowledge the nagging doubts that he always tried to ignore. He felt light-headed and sick to his stomach again. He felt his body slide down the cabinet, his shoulder thumping against the floor but he was too numb to notice.

"This is not happening." He spoke aloud, repeating the phrase trying to exorcise the growing hysteria that was starting to break though the surface again. The darkness was bringing back unwelcome memories of distant childhood punishments and the same dread that he used to feel thinking he was going to be forgotten.

Ryan shut his eyes and wondered why he didn't have the energy to get up off the floor.

Where is your new family now huh, his sub-conscious asked him. Not that it matters, as they won't miss you. No one will miss you. Your own mother threw you out…hell, you were her golden boy and you managed to make her hate you. Tee even told you to fuck off.

Ryan shook; he wanted to wrap his arms around his body but couldn't. He could hear a strangled wheezing and it took him a time before he realized it was coming from him.

You're going straight to hell …with all the other rejects. His sub-conscious mocked

Yeah, he knew he was going straight there; he'd managed to fuck up too many people's lives. He'd always known that he'd never make old bones.

He was going to die, he could feel it close, actually feel the end as his eyelids started to feel heavy and his lungs burned.

Sleep, the voice told him.

Clancy sat staring at the floor nervously undoing and refastening his watchstrap the sweat was running down off his nose but he didn't seem to notice. Brian had his eyes trained on Saul. Steve the cashier quietly bit his nails. Five minutes. Sandy did not want to think about it. How do you look around a room and know that one of you is going to die in less than three hundred seconds? Jeff was looking around the room obviously thinking the same thing.

It was Seth he was most worried about. His normally frenetic son had turned to stone, literally. He hadn't moved or made any noise since…. Ryan had…Sandy swallowed and checked his watch again.

Four minutes.

Saul had the gun on his lap and his knee bounced. He looked at his watch constantly. Sandy thought he looked nervous. Maybe killing innocent people wasn't sitting as well with him as he thought it would.

Sandy moved closer to Seth and put his hand on his arm, trying to get a reaction from him, anything, but he just stared at the far wall with his face impassive. Sandy removed his hand; maybe the best thing would be to leave him in his insular world for now.

Three minutes.

Jeff looked his way. Sandy didn't need to say anything to communicate his feelings.

Saul got up and started to pace.

"The bastards…the fucking bastards." He shouted, spit flew out of his mouth and he clicked the safety off the pistol. "I warned them…I fucking warned them."

Two minutes.

Saul started to walk towards the back of the bank. Sandy frowned. Why would he need to go out there again? He felt a tight pull in the base of his stomach as his brain caught up with the visuals.

Ryan?

He was alive?

One minute.

No…no. He'd maybe just been given something precious back and now it was going to be taken away from him again.

No way.

Sandy launched himself up off the floor.

It all happened in slow motion. Saul turned at the sound. Sandy saw the gun come up but what caught his eye was the small wavering red dot that had appeared in the centre of Saul's chest.

Saul flew backwards his eyes wide with surprise. Everyone jumped at the noise of the gunshot. Men in black rained down from the roof tiles and surrounded the sprawled body of Saul.

"Target neutralized, area safe" One of them talked into a microphone on his lapel.

"Sir, you picked a dangerous time to move." A hand came down on his shoulder and gripped hard. The lights flickered on bathing them all in bright sodium light.

Sandy found his voice.

"My son…. I don't think he's dead."

"Dad?" Seth stared at him, his mouth wide.

"Sir?" The SWAT questioned.

"I think he was bluffing. I think he was on his way to kill him for real that time."

"I fucking knew it." Clancy piped up.

Sandy was already moving towards the back of the bank. Seth followed on his heels almost overtaking him.

"Sir…please remain where you are." They both heard the command but ignored it, as did everyone else.

The kitchen area was empty.

Sandy looked around him expecting to see Ryan tied up and raising a cynical eyebrow at them all as to why it had taken them so long.

But there was nothing. No body…no Ryan. Sandy rushed into each of the offices.

"Ryan…Ryan?" He called but he was met with silence.

He stood and stared at Seth and Jeff. Where? He couldn't have vanished.

"There were only two perps right?" The SWAT sounded as confused as they all felt.

He was the first to walk over to the safety deposit vault. He had his gun raised as he tried the handle.

"That room's airtight for insurance purposes." Brian said softly.

"Stand back." He called and tugged the handle downwards. He looked backwards as the door swung open.

"Fuck." Swat rushed forward and talked into his lapel. "Medic…. here right now."

Sandy felt like a ton of bricks had hit him when he looked into the room. The smell of sweat and vomit assaulted him but it was the staleness of the air that got him.

Sandy watched as the guy flipped Ryan on his back and checked his airways.

Mouth on mouth.

One.

Two.

Three hard chest depressions.

Repeat.

"Come on kid." The voice was determined.

The man continued CPR.

Sandy looked at Seth. Jeff had moved to his side and was telling him that it would be okay.

Breathe.

Please breathe, he willed.

Don't do this now Ryan.

Fight.

Fight.

Ryan's lips remained blue.

Don't give up.

Sandy prayed like he'd never prayed before.

TBC.

Thanks for all the fab reviews people. I love you all and remember a cheekymouse in love writes quicker. :)