A/N.: Thanks to my beta ParisAmy and for all the nice reviews

1. Liar – I need to help you

I sit on my bed the letter in my hand. I can't believe it. Why hadn't he said anything? We're writing each other at least once a day. He's even calling once in a while, checking whether everything is alright, whether there is something he could do for me. He stayed longer than he had been able to bear. He sacrificed himself for us – for me. I had begged him to stay for me and he did, but one day he was gone. He hadn't been able to stay any longer and thus one morning when I entered the pool house I found it empty.

"Ryan buddy, are you here? Grandpa is driving Mom to a rehab centre. I guess everything is going to be alright again." I'd thought until that day that I wouldn't like my Mom to be gone, but the truth was: I was relieved when she was finally gone. It had been a rough few months. Mom had started drinking. Why? I have no idea yet, but Grandpa promised me I would one day. It was strange to witness him changing from one night to the other. He came here and took the strings into his hand and I'm glad he did. Dad was overtaxed with the all the things since they had started. It had been Ryan, cleaning up the mess my Mom had produced when she was drunk. He swept up the pieces of broken glass, when she had started to throw around the dishes. He cleaned up her vomit, when she had drunken too much. He kneeled besides her, rubbing her back, when she had heaved into the toilet bowl. He carried her to bed, when she passed out on the couch in the middle of the day. He never told me. I have seen it. He had been brave. He never complained about it. He just functioned.

"Hey! Ryan?" I hadn't gotten any answer and then I saw a sheet of paper on the neatly made bed.

Sorry Seth, I can't stay any longer. I have to go, before this breaks me. I'll mail you or call you. Don't worry I'm not leaving you alone with the mess. I only won't be there physically.

Cheers

Ryan.

I dropped onto the bed and instantly knew what he was talking about in his note. In fact I had heard my Mum screaming at him.

'Worthless scum and I let you in' this, or 'Now you see what you're doing to me. I wish I'd never let you into my house. I should have let you die in this fucking prison'. He just stood there and let her yell at him – he stood there like a rock, but I knew inwardly my Mom was ripping out pieces of his soul with every sentence. I'm still asking myself where my Dad had been. Fact, he hadn't been around. He hid behind the veil of work and left us alone. He listened to Mom's outbursts, but never stepped in and when Ryan came to him and told him that Mom needed help, he did nothing. He had…done nothing, but slapped his face. I should have intervened then. I didn't. I was too perplexed. My Dad never became physical. This had been a whole new side. I read the sheet over and over again. I've been frustrated. Ryan was gone for good and I've begged him to stay. After the incident my father slapped his face, I caught him, packing his duffle bag.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"What does it look like?" He asked back.

"As if you're leaving."

"Smart ass." He had been pissed off and he had enough reasons to be, as he has had too many reasons for leaving for good at the end.

"You can't. You have to stay." I begged him.

"Seth, I can't stay. This…I had enough of this shit in my life. I can't take any more of it." He explained and it had been the first time he told me about his feelings he carried around about his past.

"I know…but…without you…Mom needs help and I can't help her. And…Dad is out of service…I need someone keeping…the family alive." I pleaded. He had been the only person I could rely on these days – before he left for good.

"Seth, your family is dead as long as nobody faces the inevitable." He answered and he was right.

"But how if the only one who knows what's going on leaves? You can't leave me alone with this mess. I mean it's not that bad, isn't it?" I asked him. I'd been afraid.

"Your father slapped my face…not only gently." He said. He sat down on the bed and I dropped down next to him. I understood what he was saying.

"Please Ryan, for me…for Mom and Dad. I know that we mean something to you and I know that you know that Dad didn't mean to…to…you know what. Please don't leave me. I promise when this is over I'll let you go, wherever you want to. But please don't leave me alone with this. I can't handle it and you know that." I said to him. He buried his face in his hands. I'd never thought he would leave for real. I had thought it was nothing but a sentence I was saying to make him stay, until the crises managed and under control. He sighed and looked at me.

"Okay. I'll stay, but only as long as this is over." He said and he stayed. If I had known then what hell would follow, I wouldn't have begged him to stay, but to take me with him.

"That's great man, I'll never forget you that."

"I hope so." He answered. His face already looked way too tired for a teenager, but I didn't see it then, because I looked the same. I hadn't sensed that he would go for good but he did. One day, Grandpa appeared in the kitchen. He was drinking his coffee and watched my Mom.

"You know Kiki, being drunk at this hour of the day is even for Newport standards a little early and unusual don't you think so?"He said directly and my Mom looked at him like frozen.

"What the hell do you care?"She asked.

"I care, because you are my daughter and with your behaviour you're tearing apart the last remaining family I have." He answered.

"Family? Since when am I family for you? You fucking bastard don't see anything else in me but a working machine." My Mom screamed. I hated when she used all these swearwords. This was the evidence that my Mom hadn't been my Mom anymore.

"Kiki, stop it. I know I haven't been the best father for quite a time but now it's my job to help you. You're sick and you have to admit it or your family has to pay for it."

"One more word Caleb or I throw you out of this house." My father came in. He had closed his eyes from the reality and everybody who dared to put it open on the table was fought tooth and nail.

"Stop it Sanford and face the truth. Your wife is an alcoholic and you just don't want to admit it. Hell, did you ever think about your son? Did you pay attention to how much you harm him? Did you even have the slightest thought about how he feels in this situation? How is he supposed to deal with it, huh? Can you tell me?" He said. My father looked at me, the first time in months in which he really looked at me, not over me or through me, but at me. I don't know how the argument went on but at the end my father started crying, admitting that he knew about alcohol abuse, but hasn't been strong enough to face the truth. My Mom become more angry and at the end she broke down, told us how hard she had tried to be the perfect daughter, the perfect employee, the perfect housewife, wife and Mom and that Carter had shaken her world that badly that she hadn't known what to feel or do anymore. He'd been her escape and when he was gone she'd been alone again. At the end she agreed and drove to a rehab centre with my Grandpa. I've had a long conversation with my father, in which he told me how sorry he was because of his behaviour, but that he now was there for me and would do everything to make it alright again. Only at the end of the conversation we recognised that Ryan wasn't there. Dad sent me to get him, but all I found was an empty pool house and this fucking sheet of paper.

"And now? Are you fucking proud of yourself? You scared…forced him out of this house. You've hurt him. You weren't any better than all his mother's boyfriends. That's why he's gone." My father didn't say anything. We didn't know that my Grandpa's presence had been his doing, making him capable of leaving this place. I threw the paper into my father's face and disappeared into my room and there broken down into tears. I didn't know what was worse: that my Mom was an alcoholic and was on her way straight to rehab, or that Ryan was finally gone for good. I had lost my best friend and brother, because nobody had been listening to him.

I know it had been for him to protect himself from more damage. I can understand why he did so. But I don't understand why he hasn't been honest with me, about him. I turn the letter in my hand. I can't do anything. I only started my first term at College. What am I supposed to do? He hasn't even written the letter. I'm angry. How can he dare to keep something like that from me? He had said we were more than friends. He was supposed to tell me – to let me know. He didn't. The day he was gone had changed everything. Not even the fact that my Mom came back one day, sober and being the Mom I knew and loved could fill the hole inside, which was left after Ryan's departure. Worst of all was their indifference about it. My Dad hadn't said anything about it, just nodded in acknowledgement. He knew he couldn't say anything, because he was the one, who abandoned Ryan months ago in a situation he wasn't supposed to handle alone and again. My Mom was different. She asked about Ryan's whereabouts when she came home and found the pool house empty. I gave her the sheet and she'd given it back to me, without any reaction. I don't know what to do. Nobody seems to care about him anymore, but I can't help him, not alone.

I only know that he needs help. He had needed it from the day when I caught him trying to leave the first time, but now he really needs it. I can't go to my Dad. I can't tell whether he would be angry or worried. I don't care. It's for sure that Ryan wouldn't want Dad to know about it. Hell, he doesn't even want me to know. I hear the sound coming from my computer, telling me I have a new message. It's from Ryan.

Hey Seth, how are things going at home? I guess it's getting better day after day.

I'm fine. Tell me about your College life. I'd really like to witness you threatening the campus of Berkeley. It starts to be cold and windy here, but I have to adapt to it. I've no other chance than this.

Cheers

Ryan

Prick. This e-mail is one lie as all the others had been in which he told me that he was 's far away from fine and doesn't have the guts to tell me. I feel the urge to slam my fist against the flickering screen with all these lied words. Who the fuck does he think he is? Fucking Superman or what? I should drive there, but I can't. I can't the fuck do anything for him. Fuck! I hate to be helpless. He'd done so much for me, why can't I do anything for him? I have to do something – anything. I at least need to let him know that I'm there for him now and I have to kick fucking sense into his head. Why in hell hadn't he been able to tell me on his own? Why does his fucking brother write a letter to me and tell me what's going on?