"Mr. Cohen, I'm Liam Daniels the director." Liam sticks out his hand and Sandy stiffens slightly, hating him on principle but knowing he needs his cooperation.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Daniels." Sandy replies coolly shaking the man's hand firmly before beginning their tour. It is hours of looking into the darkened eyes of over a hundred children and frustratingly not being able to find a single thing to pin the institution on legally.

"What's down there?" Sandy asks pointing to the one door Liam had been steering him away from. The flash of discomfort on Liam's face quickly changes to calm indifference.

"Oh just old records, cleaning supplies stuff like that." Liam sounds so calmly positive that if Sandy hadn't been a public defender for ten years he might have missed the lie.

"Right well I have a warrant for the whole building." Sandy replies and Liam nods nervously flipping through the keys to shakily take out a long skeleton key. To Sandy's surprise it is just a records room and he wanders around suspiciously, trying to figure out what had but the nervous glint in Liam's eyes. A light catches Sandy's eye and he looks down a small hallway.

"What's down here?" Sandy asks aloud

"All the seclusion rooms are kept within state regulations." Liam yells almost helplessly mistaking Sandy's confusion for discovery. Wordlessly, Sandy grabs Liam's keys and he walks briskly down the hall to the front of a cell with a faint light streaming out the bottom of the door. Hurriedly he opens the door and looks down with sympathetic horror at the scene in front of him.

A little boy, 11, maybe 12, with dirty blonde hair and impossibly large, blue eyes stares up at Sandy, clearly petrified, before scampering frantically to the back of his cell. Sandy's heart beats quickly as he crouches down to the little boy's level carefully keeping his distance.

"It's ok." Sandy says quietly glancing over the bruises and scratches all over the boy's body. "I'm not going to hurt you I promise it's ok." The wary look doesn't leave the kid's face as he shivers in the corner. Concerned Sandy picks up the blanket and holds it out to the boy. The little boy shrinks further into the corner and Sandy puts the blanket down within his reach.

"My name's Sandy Cohen." Sandy says keeping his voice calm and level. "What's yours?" The boy wraps his bony arms his knees and shyly looks up at Sandy from under his greasy bangs.

"Ryan, sir." Ryan whispers causing Sandy to have to strain to hear the soft voice that is raspy with disuse.

"It's nice to meet you." Sandy says reaching into his briefcase to hand Ryan a bottle of water. Ryan accepts the bottle hesitantly and takes a grateful swig.

"How old are you?" Sandy asks after a moment desperate to keep the conversation light.

"I turn 13 a week Thursday." Ryan replies picking at his nails.

"Happy almost Birthday." Sandy says with a smile. Ryan looks up, a painfully hesitant crooked smile on his bruised face.

"I have a son, Seth, he's 13 too." Ryan nods looking down again. Sandy takes a moment to look over the boy's thin arms that are peppered with scars, bruises and cuts. During the moment of silence Ryan catches Sandy's gaze and shifts uncomfortably obviously embarrassed by his current state. Sandy tries to imagine Seth in this position, scared and shaking in a concrete cell.

"How long have you been in here?" Sandy asks quietly, well aware he is steering the conversation into uncomfortable territory.

"McClellen for a four months, BMod for 3 days." Ryan answers looking in to Sandy's eyes to gauge his reaction.

"That's a long time." Sandy replies hoping he is at least being fed and watered.

"Some kids have it worse." Ryan says with a shrug. Sandy doesn't want to think about that and brushes over the disturbing statement trying to find neutral territory.

"Hungry?" Sandy asks suddenly remembering the lunch Rosa put in his briefcase. Ryan looks up with interest but refrains from responding. Sandy takes that as a resounding yes and gently lobs the paper bag to Ryan who looks through it with poorly restrained desire before looking up to Sandy uncertainly, not truly believing in a free lunch.

"It's ok it's all yours." Sandy assures the younger boy. "Go for it." He encourages and Ryan gingerly unwraps the sandwich before eagerly digging in. The simply boyishness of the gesture causes Sandy's uncertainty to break and their conversation quickly becomes easy. Ryan likes baseball and he, like Sandy, prefers the A's over the Dodgers and likes math but 'sucks' at English. Every once in a while a soft chuckle bubbles from Ryan reminding Sandy that he is still just a young kid. In the middle of their conversation Sandy's phone rings breaking the momentarily bond the two opposites had created.

"Barry?" Sandy says flashing an apologetic smile at Ryan who smiles back a little uncertainly.

"Sandy where the hell are you you're 30 minutes late for the meeting." Sandy looks down at his watch with a gasp realizing he had spent almost two hours with Ryan.

"I'm so sorry Barry I'll be there as soon as I can." Barry mutters some more profanity but grudgingly agrees to hold the meeting until Sandy can make it across town. Sandy hurriedly gathers up his things before looking at Ryan who is intently focused on the floor. Sandy sighs because he knows he is no better than the other lawyers and social workers that come in and out of this place.

"Ryan I'll be back ok kid?" Ryan meets Sandy's eyes with disbelief and resignation. Sandy smiles reassuringly and passes Ryan the thin blanket.

"I promise kid." Sandy walks out of the room and looks back at Ryan after a beat hating to leave him there alone, vulnerable.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's 1AM when a dejected Sandy finishes fishing through technicalities and opens the front door with a heavy sigh.

"You're home." Kirsten says with a smile putting her book down.

"I'm sorry so late." Sandy apologizes going over to kiss her.

"It's ok I knew it would happen. It was nice actually, Seth and I went out." Kirsten replies. Sandy nods and locks the door behind him.

"You should lock this when I'm not here." Sandy rebukes. Too many case files filled with battered wives and children are firmly burned into Sandy's brain and he can't get the look of Ryan's eyes out of his head. Kirsten tilts her head a little incredulously.

"Are you alright honey?" Kirsten asks noticing Sandy's disheartened expression.

"Yeah." Sandy says with a forced smile. "Yeah there is just something I need to do." Kirsten nods and Sandy trots up the stairs to Seth's bedroom. Seth lies, strewn haphazardly on the bed, a comic book under his cheek his feet sticking out from the covers. When had Seth gotten so big? Sandy wonders regarding the adolescent wisp of hair beginning to come in over Seth's lip.

With a soft sigh Sandy sits on the edge Seth's bed. The weight causes the bed to dip slightly but Seth sleeps through it assured, even in his sleep, that his parents were keeping him safe from harm. Gently Sandy works the comic out from under Seth's cheek. The action causes Seth's eyes to flutter open in confusion.

"Dad? Wha?" Had it been so long since he had tucked Seth in that his entrance was met with nothing other than abject confusion?

"Shh it's late." Sandy says straightening the covers out over the boy's gangly form. "Go back to sleep."

"You wake me up to tell me to go back to sleep?" Seth grumbles cracking an eye open. "Are you high?" Sandy snorts brushing back Seth's unruly curls.

"No son." Sandy assures Seth.

"Goodnight." Sandy gets up tucking the covers up to Seth's chin. "I love you." Seth gives Sandy a funny look but nods groggily.

"Yeah I love you too." Sandy looks out the door to where Kirsten is watching with a soft but slightly worried smile. Kirsten walks to Seth's bed and lays the back of her hand on Seth's cheek with a fond smile before turning to Sandy.

"Talk to me." Kirsten requests softly and Sandy tells her all about the little boy in the basement

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ryan lies, staring at the ceiling taking in the soft snores and mumbles of the boys around him. The sound that is usually an annoyance is welcome relief after the deafening silence of solitary. With a heavy sigh Ryan cuddles under his blanket trying to ignore the itchiness of the low quality wool and firmly shuts his eyes trying to turn off his mind.

A sharp tug on the blanket causes Ryan's eyes to suddenly blink open. His fear softens to sympathy as he looks down to find Nick staring back at him, his big blue eyes filled with tears. Ever since the incident in the showers Nick has decided Ryan is his own personal saviour and Ryan doesn't have the heart to tell him that he can't save himself let alone Nick. Ryan sighs indulgently and moves over in the bed making room for the little boy to climb in. Immediately Nick curls into Ryan pressing his cold frame against Ryan's. Part of Ryan wants to tell Nick to get in his own side of the bed but the trembling of Nick's body speaks too loudly of a nightmare. With a sigh Ryan pulls the blanket tighter around Nick before holding him close.

"It's ok." Ryan whispers in an attempt to calm the boy down. "Everything's going to be ok." Ryan doesn't even believe his own platitudes but Nick is still young enough to be lulled to sleep by the mumbled reassurances.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

REVIEWS = LOVE

Again this story will be slow going until Dec 15th when my exams are done!!!!!!!!!!! But i got bored studying comparative politics and decided to but Ryan through the ringer instead