First things first, let me wish you a VEEEEERRRRY MEEEERRRRY CHRRRRISTMAAAAS!!!! Or in this case, let's all be a little faithful to our favorite show, The OC, and wish each other a merry Chrismukkah! Let the Jesus and the Moses be on our side on this very auspicious holiday.

Secondly, let us mourn the loss of the great Benazir Bhutto, who was assassinated on the 28th december'2007 for fighting against the same issues that are still plaguing the world; one in particular- 'terrorism'. (No connection here, but that was me venting my feelings on such a sad demise)

So this story has a Christmas chapter which I was hoping to upload by this day but I have been a bit lazy… okay, a lot lazy… so I haven't been able to do it. I will do it by next week. Think you guys can forgive me? Well, I think so; it is the holidays after all. This chapter is a bit dark and a bit long, and Seejay gets introduced into it. Hope you enjoy and don't get bored.)

…..

"Ry…"

The voice was a soft whisper in the silky darkness of their bedroom.

"Ryan…"

The voice rose an octave, irritating and nagging and urgent.

Then soft, familiar hands started shaking him, "Ryan, Ryan, wake up!"

For a moment, his sleep-befuddled mind could not really comprehend what was happening, and then all of a sudden he realized that urgent voice was Marissa's and he instantly sat up on the bed, the cover falling off his body due to his haste. His eyes immediately sought out their bedside clock, which blinked 3.00 am up at him.

"What?" he gasped, turning around and expecting to see an earthquake or an apocalypse to have hit the earth. Instead, he saw his very cute… if a little nagging wife sitting cross-legged beside him, staring at him, with wide, speculative, and very awake eyes.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?" he asked in concern, his voice hoarse because of sleep.

"I am fine." she instantly reassured him, then bit her lips softly and gave him an apologetic sort of a look, "it's just… I wanted to talk…"

"Talk?" he repeated dumbly as if the word was alien and foreign to him.

She shook her head firmly at him; her hair falling over her face like a golden waterfall, as she silently affirmed the truth of those words.

"Marissa…" he groaned, as he fell back onto the covers and pinched the root of his nose in frustration, his eyes seeking out their bedside clock just to make sure he hadn't made any mistakes. "Its 3.00 in the morning… The only people awake at this godforsaken hour are the burglars. And unless you feel like robbing someone, in which case I'll totally back you up, considering the amount of money you spend, we'll talk tomorrow". He finished his speech in what he hoped to be a very no-nonsense, finite way, then turned back onto his side, pulled the covers firmly over his head, and shut his eyes determinedly.

"Ryan…" Of course, she didn't listen to him. She would not have been Marissa, if she had.

He ignored her.

"Ryan, common" she poked at his back, "I am serious".

"I know baby, nobody said you weren't serious," he soothed, his voice muffled from under the covers, "But think how much more serious we can be, if we talk, say… tomorrow?"

"Okay." For once, she seemed to have accepted it without argument and Ryan felt a sigh of relief escape his mouth. She leaned against him and ran her hand through his hair softly, and he closed his eyes in blissful surrender. Just as he was drifting towards that oblivion he so desperately craved, lulled into a false sense of security by her warm snuggled body, her hands jerked on his hair a bit too harshly and he let out a howl of pain.

"Oww. Oww. What was that for?" he instantly sat up on bed and turned around, his hands flying up to his head to rub the sore spot.

"I am sorry sweetie, did that hurt?" she smiled sweetly up at him, her voice dripping sugar as her eyes innocently blinked back. "I was just trying to help you 'sleep'." The last word sounded more like a threat to him.

Ryan let out a groan; well it was more of a moan because of his pain and heaved a frustrated sigh, his mind acknowledging that he didn't have a choice. He really should have listened to Sandy when he had said 'don't ever get married'. "Okay, I am up. I am up" He whispered, dragging his body out of the covers and shaking his head to clear it. He pulled her onto his lap, adjusting their positions in a more comfortable manner. "Now, what do you want to talk about?"

Finally having gotten her way, she gave him a brilliant smile for his efforts. "its just…" her next words got lost somewhere between her gasp and the tingle passing through her entire body as Ryan slipped his hands inside her lingerie and cupped her breasts firmly, rubbing them over and over.

"Ryan…" she giggled, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing" he whispered casually, his mouth trailing a path of fiery kisses down the column of her back. "I am just making sure I get as much out of it as you do. Really, 3.00 in the morning…" he nipped at her earlobe teasingly, "the things you make me do…"

"I…" She slapped his hands away and linked her arm through his neck, staring at him imploringly. "I am sorry about waking you up. It's just… I was worried and I couldn't sleep…"

"Worried?" Ryan craned his neck and met her eyes in concern, giving her a questioning look, "worried about what?"

"Jason's new friend… Seejay," she said bluntly.

Ryan's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion at her statement. As far as he was concerned Seejay had just been a vague name mentioned during dinner that night. "He is just a kid that Jason helped, right? I don't see why you are worried."

"Well, not worried exactly." She corrected herself. She wasn't really sure why she was spending a sleepless night. It was more of a feeling, really. Nothing concrete that she could explain but something kept troubling her, refusing to let go. Okay, so it was slightly underhanded and maybe, a little cruel of her to have woken up her husband to share her not so firm insecurities, but all throughout the past 20 years, she had come to value his judgment implicitly, and she wanted to know if Ryan had gotten similar vibes. "I am more… apprehensive. I mean, we don't really know much about the guy. He is clearly not from around here and the way Jace described him… he seems so dark. And Jason is just a little boy."

"Marissa, Jason is 15." Ryan gently corrected her, as his eyes softened looking at her troubled face, "And frankly speaking, if he feels like he has to hang out with someone other than these rich, Newport, trust fund kids, then I am actually quite happy about it. Besides," he teased, "you didn't seem to mind much when I came into your life and I was definitely darker."

"But that was different." She immediately shot him down, running her hands over his wide chest and hugging him tightly, "I always knew you were different."

"Well, yeah. The kid hasn't burnt down any houses yet, nor has he stolen any cars." Ryan joked, stroking her hair softly, "So relax. Until I hear about any burnt houses or stolen cars, we have nothing to worry about. Besides, we are going to go to Jason's inter-school Football match tomorrow. I'll check him out then, okay?"

Marissa allowed Ryan to cajole her back, but she was going to make sure that he checked him out just the same, "Okay."

"Now…" he wriggled his eyebrows mischievously at her, "can we please get back to thing we were doing before your paranoia can interrupt us again?"

"What? You mean sleep?" she teased then shrieked when Ryan effortlessly picked her up and pushed her flat on her back before moving over and silencing her in time honored way.

……

My backpack is heavy, my feet are dragging along the pristine roads, and my head is killing me, as I amble over home from school. It isn't that I am tired, although I am, it isn't that my body is sore and bruised making it difficult for me to walk, although it probably is, it is the very fact that I am going home from school that is making my feet feel like lead and each step in front of the other, a chore. I will never tell anyone, but school is my escape…

Escape from my life at home.

I pick out a pebble from the road kicking it as hard as I can, my thoughts drifting over to my first day at school. I had expected it to be difficult, I had expected to be picked at; I just hadn't realized how brutal these Newport, trust fund kids could be. It was like they were purposely targeting me because I wasn't cut off the same mold that they all measured themselves against. I don't really care about that. In the scheme of things in my life, getting picked at, at school is the least of my worries. But then this kid came from nowhere, hit the tallest guy in the crowd and told everyone else to back off. God, does he have a mean right hook! Nobody has ever stood up for me like that and it felt kind of… nice.

What was his name he said? Ah yes! Jason.

He asked me where I was from and who my parents were… too many questions I cant answer, at least not if I have to prevent my dad's secret from spilling out. So I just shook my head in a silent 'thanks' telling him without words to back off, and then walked away.

He came after me though, and this time he didn't ask me any questions. We just sort of… talked. He told me about Newport, about how the people are over here. He said it can get a bit overwhelming living here, because of the shallowness of the people, and he said, sometimes he gets tired of it all. Nevertheless, he also said that, there are some very good people over here. Then he told me about his family; he got this soft kind of a look in his eyes, and I knew they were some very special people. I could see how much he loved them and how much he was loved. God, how I envy such kids.

I told him a little bit about myself then... well, not any details or anything, just stuff that I like. He is the first person I ever told that I loved music, that on a good day I can play really well. He didn't mock me or anything… he just sort of listened.

And, for a moment it almost felt like he was my … 'friend'. Of course, that's stupid. I don't do friends. They have a tendency to ask a lot of questions about my life, my dad. Facts that I want to keep under wrap. Sometimes I wish though, that I didn't have to. That I could shout from the rooftops that my life sucked.

It happened again today… the thing that I dread the most…

I opened the door to my house, the door to 'my reality' and saw my dad standing near our kitchen counter, all the unwashed dishes broken on the floor and a weird look in his eyes.

'He' glanced at me accusatorily and asked me where I had been; as if he had forgotten that I go to school, as if he had forgotten that the whole reason we are here is because of him. His eyes were glazed, there was a wild desperation in his eyes, and his whole body was shaking. From years of experience, I knew he was high. I wonder where he got this new stash from; I thought that I had thrown away the last.

"You left me" he whispered, his voice like that of a small, petulant child. "You are going to leave me and go, just like everyone else. Every body." he banged his head on the tabletop and I flinched. "Leaves. Me". He shouted.

I desperately tried to reassure him, "I won't dad, I wont. I promise."

I was so worried that he would hurt himself that I almost didn't catch his hands inching towards the knife. By the time I saw, he was already holding the kitchen knife in his hands, waving it around threateningly.

"Dad!" I freaked, shouting and running over to where he was standing, "dad, put that down right now!"

He stared at me beadily, his eyes looking wildly around. "You know I don't like it when you leave me. I told you to never leave me."

"Okay, okay, dad, I am sorry. I won't leave you again, I promise, I promise, please just put that down, okay? Please?" I said anything that came to my mind, just to calm him down, just so that he will put that thing away. I inched slowly towards him, my feet barely making any sound on the rough floor, my eyes still fixed unwaveringly on that knife.

He laughed, that manic laugh that I have come to hate so much. For one crazed moment, I really thought that he was going to do it. I could see it in his eyes, I could see that he was contemplating; I could see that his lips were licking in anticipation.

I locked my eyes onto him and hoped that mine weren't showing the fear that I was feeling. My breathing was becoming ragged, wild panic was entering my eyes, and I knew that one more second and I was going to burst, either startling him into killing himself, or killing me!

Finally, after what seemed like an interminably long moment, he stepped aside and put it down, His glazed eyes had return to a normal color "I am sorry, I am so sorry, Seejay." He pleaded, "I didn't want to do it, I swear".

I had nothing to say to that, no words of comfort to whisper.

"Dad, its time for your medication" I whispered instead, making sure he swallowed all of them in front of my eyes. I ambled over to my room and just sort of crashed onto my bed after that.

It isn't the first time that it has happened. He has once gone to jail for attempted murder and has been hospitalized twice for attempted suicide. He ran away from the last. That's why we have to keep moving from one place to another.

Sometimes, I feel so tired…

Honestly, sometimes I feel like just walking out the door and never looking back.

But then I think of my dad…

He is all that I have, and he needs me. And, I'll be damned before I let those other people drag him back to the asylum. I'll do anything I can to protect him.

He is the only family I have… I love him almost as much as I hate him. I am a part of him, and sometimes I wonder if I can be just like him? I am not! I am not! I am not… I am not, right? And the world is spinning now, and my thoughts are taunting me…

God, I need an escape. I pull out the bottle and take a long, burning swig. The world is fading and my thoughts slowly become silent until they are nothing but a distant whirr and then everything turns blank...

It feels so nice…

…….

It was a packed stadium. Parents, teachers, relatives, students, occupied every single seat and there was a lot of shouting, screaming and jeering. It was the final match between the Pacific and Harbor high and because of the traditional rivalry between the two schools; players were playing to draw blood. Naturally, it drew an even greater amount of crowd.

Ryan and Marissa made their way over to the front row, their eyes scanning the players below for their son, their hands filled with bags of sodas and chili fries as Grace bouncing high up on Ryan's shoulder, hitting on her dad's head pretending that it was a drum. Ryan was too involved in the players warm up for him to pay much attention. Watching his son play always filled him with so much pride and excitement that he was barely able to concentrate on anything else.

"Here, give her to me." Marissa said, eyeing Ryan unsuccessfully trying to flick their daughter's, small demolishing hands away. Sitting down, she took Grace from his arms much against her tantrums and wails and set her down firmly on her lap.

"Daddy," Gracie pulled at Ryan's shirt determined to have her dad's attention. She hated it when he wasn't paying her attention. She was supposed to be their princess wasn't she? "Daddy, can I tell mommy about the rules now?" she said impatiently.

That got Ryan's attention very quick, "Oh, I almost forgot about those." He grinned at Marissa, his eyes having a wicked glint as he gave Grace Thumbs up sign, motioning her to continue.

"What rules?" Marissa gave the pair of mischief mongers a questioning look, genuinely confused, as she pulled her baby things out from her tote bag. There was a Share-bear that Grace never went anywhere without, there was her baby food, she wasn't really allowed to eat anything from outside because she kept ill many times and there was her blanket, which they had always learnt to carry incase she slept off.

"The rules that you havta follow mommy, if you are being allowed to watch the game. Daddy and Jay made them up when you were upstairs. I am being given the respawansitybility of telling them to you." She puffed up her small chest importantly, unaware that her mom's eyebrow's had shot upwards and her eyes had darkened with anger.

"Oh they did, did they?" Marissa drawled sarcastically, her flashing blue eyes fixed on Ryan, even as she addressed her question to Grace.

Grace nodded in confirmation, looking from her dad's laughing blue eyes to her mom's furious ones. Then remembering that she was supposed to be actually explaining the rules too, she slapped on her forehead for her stupidity and said, "Rule no 1 is you cannot threaten Jay's coach with grandma Julie every time Jay gets tackled."

"Very good" Ryan looked on proudly at his daughter, even as his blue eyes laughed at his wife's growing ire.

Marissa scowled. "I don't do that."

"Riss…" Ryan chuckled, smirking at her knowingly "I still have those nail marks on my left hand from the last time I tried to hold you back."

"And you'll have even more of those if you don't shut up."

That shut him up quickly. "Okay… we'll move on to the next rule." he said hurriedly, looking at Grace.

Grace helpfully obliged, nodding her small blonde head in her dad's direction in a regal manner. "Well, rule no. 2 is that mommy cannot run onto the stadium to hug and kiss Jason if Jason wins the match."

"When did I do that?" Marissa asked incredulously.

Ryan gave her a withering look. "Do you remember the last time at all?"

"Okay, so maybe I was a little enthusiastic" Marissa acknowledged at long length, "But hey, he played really well."

"Okay, well, you can't do that this time even if he plays really well" Ryan stated laughing, then raised his hand in mock surrender when he saw her start to argue, "This wasn't my rule. It was all Jason." "Although…" He paused, giving her a cheeky grin, "I wouldn't mind a hug and a kiss."

"But you wouldn't get one." Marissa retorted back, her blue eyes flashing. Really making up rules, and then teaching their daughter to do their dirty work was bit… too much!

"Not even a small one?" Ryan pouted cutely at her and Marissa couldn't help her lips from curling in a small smile at his adorable expression. Well, what woman could resist… THAT? She drew his head down and gave him a soft kiss.

Ryan licked his lips where they had touched, seemingly satisfied with that, as he turned towards Grace, "okay, tell us the last and most important rule."

"Well," she scrunched up her face as she tried to remember, "Mommy cannot slap daddy's hand away every time daddy tries to eat his 'own' box of chili fries." Her eyebrows drew together in a frown because the next words were completely foreign to her, "and mommy cannot pout, cajole, bribe, shout, or hit him into giving up his own fries. And if by some miratle…"

"'miracle', sweetie" Ryan corrected helpfully.

"das whas I said, daddy. By some mieacle, mommy's hand finds her way into daddy's fries, she has to give daddy one kiss for every fry"

"Hey!" Marissa shouted indignantly and Ryan began laughing. He couldn't help it. There was hardly a movie or a match that they had watched together where she hadn't managed to procure his fries one way or the other. He decided this was a very useful rule.

Thankfully, the referee announced the start of the match before she could start throwing those very same fries at his head and he heaved a silent prayer of thanks. For the next one hour, they forgot about everything, the fights, the rules, everything except the face of their son as he was playing the game. Marissa's nails were biting into his arm as she hid her face every time Jason was tackled, Ryan forgot that he was sitting a million miles away as he shouted instructions and encouragements, and Grace was bouncing up and down her feet, not really understanding the game, but mimicking her parents expressions as accurately as she could. She was cheering when they were cheering, solemn when they were solemn, and she so enjoyed the cheerleader's performance that she was even trying to mimic that. Her small arms flailing she tried to do cartwheels but ended up falling flat on her dad's lap, and for a moment Ryan and Marissa got distracted from the game as they both shared a laugh.

It happened in a split second. Nobody had time to react.

Ryan's laughing face turned towards the stadium and he saw, as if in slow motion, Jason's leg trip and his whole body stumble as he fell onto the rough field flat on his back, blood poring through the deep gash on his face. He heard Marissa's gasp at his side, he heard Grace's sob as she clutched at his hand, both of them moving towards the field desperately at the same time.

Even before they could reach, a young boy with brown hair and dark eyes was rapidly applying pressure on his wound. For a long, pregnant moment no one spoke. It felt like the longest silence of Ryan's life. Then finally Jason's blue eyes opened and a gasp of relief shot through him. Jason gave them a small smile and it broke the tension. Everyone started talking at the same time. Jason spluttered, coughed and groaned, before clutching his dad's shoulder and slowly standing up. Immediately Marissa enveloped him in a hug, her hands flowing through his face repeatedly to reassure herself, her eyes filled with tears that slowly dripped. "if you ever scare us like that…"

"Hey mom, I am okay, I am alright. Truly."

Jason tried to reassure his mom and dad, even as his eyes caught the lone boy standing few feet away as he watched the entire interaction. He clutched at his dad's arm and motioned towards the boy with dark hair and brown eyes, same boy who had applied timely pressure to his wound boy. "Hey dad, meet my friend, Seejay."

Ryan's eyes clashed with that of Seejay's, unwavering blue against unwavering brown, and he thought as if he was looking at his past. He shook the feeling away, gratitude overcoming every other emotion."Thank you." He whispered truthfully, walking towards him and shaking his hand.

He received a small, uncomfortable smile. "Uh… Don't mention it."

-----

I didn't really know what else to say. My first reaction was to run. I am not even sure why I came running down in the first place, except... Jason stood up for me yesterday and i couldn't really leave him like that. I had to do something even if it was just somethign as infinitesmal as applying pressure on the wound. Maybe it was a reflex from years of living with my dad. His mom came over then and hugged me tight, whispering her thank-you, and i didnt really know what to do, except flail my arms around like a fish caught out of water.Jason and his dad started laughing at my awkwardness, and I felt a small smile curve my lips in response. She invited me over to their house someday, something that I cant ever accept. They ask me about my dad, something that i couldn't answer. I just nodded my head silently to everything and went back to pretending that I dont exist.

It is going to be easier that way for everyone around.

……..

(Well, if you have reached the bottom of this stupendously huge chapter, I am guessing your hands will automatically move towards the blue button. After all, you don't want your effort to be wasted, due you? The next chapter is Christmas at the Atwood home and it is completely fluffy. It'll bring Seth, Summer, Sandy, Kirsten, Julie and maybe Kaitlyn into the picture… and a surprise guest. Well in other words… havoc!)