AN - Thanks again for the reviews, especially anon! You guys rock! Definitely help make me wanna keep writing

Security had escorted Trey to a locked room and the police had been called. This wasn't the first time the hospital had to deal with violent visitors – or patients for that matter. Several hours later the police arrived and went in to talk with Trey. The few items in the room had been trashed. A small metal table had been thrown against a wall and a small chest of draws tipped over and its contents strewn. A poster detailing hygiene practices was ripped from the wall and lay crumpled on the ground.

Trey had obviously calmed down since committing the vandalism and was now sitting against a wall almost falling asleep. When he heard the door unlock he jumped to his feet, fighting the dizziness that came with the alcohol wearing off. When he saw two policemen enter he groaned and threw his head back. "What do you want?" he asked, annoyed. "I was just coming to get my brother."

The police stood in front of the door, taking in the appearance of the room and looking stern. The taller one spoke first "We've been informed by the hospital staff that you attempted to forcefully remove a patient who was in no condition to leave." Trey just scoffed. The slightly shorter cop continued "One staff member also alleges you assaulted her and a security employee confirms this."

"Hey she grabbed me, I was just trying to get her off!" Trey insisted.

The policemen ignored him. "We're gonna need to see some ID."

Trey stared defiantly at the cops for a second before grudgingly taking his wallet out his back pocket. He pulled a card out, and slapped it in the tall cop's hand.

"Trey Atwood, 19." The cop read out. "Mr. Atwood you're gonna have to come with us."

Trey deflated, "Aw come on man, I need to get outta here." He almost pleaded.

"Yea that's not gonna happen." The shorter one said as they moved to escort him out.

Ryan had a restless sleep despite his heavy medication. He dreamt of AJ's rage filled face, fists pummeling down on him, trying to escape but not being able to move. He dreamt of a stranger's kind voice before he turned into another faceless abuser. Suddenly Trey was there too pulling at him, screaming about the plan and not fucking up for everyone. All the while Ryan just. Couldn't. Breathe!

Ryan was woken with a start when an elderly nurse gently tapped his shoulder the following morning. He gasped in a breath to cry out but stopped himself just in time, instead he groaned softly from the pain the sharp intake caused his ribs. Ryan realized that fortunately this morning his head was much less fuzzy and he quickly realized where he was. Memories of the previous afternoon also came quickly in bursts of images making his face screw up with anger, pain and underlying fear, though he'd never admit this to himself.

He quickly schooled his features to the blank canvas he'd had years practicing when the nurse asked if he was ok or in any pain. He shrugged and mumbled "A little." His voice came out little above a coarse whisper. The nurse raised his bed a bit and offered him a drink. "Thanks." He murmured when he'd had a sip. He reached out to put it on the table, even that small movement causing him to wince and almost drop the cup. The nurse was quick and caught it from him.

"So you do speak." The older nurse said, forcing her voice to be light hearted. The damage to this kid had disturbed everyone a bit.

Ryan looked at her blankly, then remembered the haze of yesterday and not wanting to speak in case he fucked up and let something slip. He definitely felt more in control today, maybe the concussion was wearing off, he knew he'd had one yesterday, had experienced that feeling at least couple times before.

"Yea I guess." He told her.

She proceeded to take his blood pressure and various other readings.

"We got your address from your brother last night." The nurse said as she worked.

Ryan immediately tensed up. What now? He thought. Did they find mom? Was she drunk? Was AJ there? High? The thoughts whizzed through his head. What'd happened to Trey anyway? Ryan only had vague memories of him storming in and telling him they had to go. Shit the plan! Trey was gonna be so pissed…

His attention snapped back to the nurse as she spoke. "The police were able to trace a number for the address and got a hold of your mom. She said she has to work today but will come by after and see you. She can take you home tomorrow."

Tomorrow? That's ridiculous Ryan thought; he felt much better, not bad enough to be in a hospital that's for sure. He didn't want to protest though, didn't want to draw any excess attention to himself. It seemed simple enough for now at least. No mention of child services. Sure his mom would be pissed; she and AJ would rip into him when they got home. Ryan shuddered slightly at the thought before steeling himself and telling himself he didn't give a fuck.

"That's depending on if you're ready to be released of course." The nurse said after a moment. Ryan's eyes darted up to her, alarmed and questioning. His gut was turning over. "We're still monitoring that internal bleeding and your concussion, we're hoping no other symptoms become apparent."

Ryan coughed to clear his throat. "Like what?" he didn't know what she was talking about, a bit of rest and he should be fine. This was one of the worse states he'd been in but certainly not the worse.

"The trauma to your sides and lower back may have caused some kidney damage, things are looking good for now, but problems could develop – by tomorrow afternoon we should know. We also want to make sure you rest for a couple days, allow those ribs to get a head start on healing." She said, smiling kindly.

Ryan felt awkward and looked away, nodding slightly. He really wasn't used to anyone taking care of him.

"The police are also coming back later today to ask you some questions about what happened – you were obviously assaulted." The nurse continued.

Ryan was about to protest, make some stupid excuse about falling down stairs but shut his mouth in time. He needed to think carefully about this. People here could tell the signs of kicks and punches over clumsy falls.

A different lady came in and put a tray of breakfast on his side table and then they both women left the room.

Ryan sank back into the bed and started trying to come up with a believable story.

Sandy was finishing up with his client, glancing at his watch. It was nearly 5pm. "So I'll see you in court on Tuesday." He said to the 30-something man. He got a nod in return and turned to hurry to his car. Ryan had been on his mind all day. He hoped he was recovering alright. He wondered if Ryan had told anyone what had happened, or even spoken again. He wondered if his family had been contacted, hoped they'd sought Ryan out, hoped they weren't involved in anyway, couldn't imagine any parents or adults doing such a thing to a child but knew that sadly it did happen. He wondered if child services would get involved, thought it was likely and hoped everything would work out. He knew the system was flawed, he'd talk to Ryan – hopefully – and try and help in any way he could. The kid was in a bad spot, he saw it in his eyes yesterday.

These thoughts were piling on top of each other as Sandy pulled in to the hospital parking for the second day in a row.

He made his way to reception where a lady recognized him from yesterday. "Good afternoon sir, are you here to see Ryan?"

"Yes I am." Sandy replied, feeling slightly excited now to check in on the young man.

"We got a hold of Ryan's family. His brother came in last night and had to be restrained."

Sandy gave a worried look. "What happened?" he asked. The woman hesitated, not sure about disclosing information but obviously deciding it wouldn't matter.

"He seemed to want to take Ryan." She said in a lowered tone

"Take him?" Sandy asked, baffled. "Where? Couldn't he see he was injured?"

"I believe he was intoxicated. He was taken by the police. He assaulted one of our staff."

Sandy was taken aback, he worried about Ryan's safety. This brother sounded out of control. How could he be willing to cause more damage to Ryan like that? Wasn't he concerned for his well being? Sandy knew substance abuse could change people and reminded himself he wasn't in Newport. Unfortunate circumstances easily led young people down the wrong road here. Why did he want to take him though? In any case he didn't seem like a very supportive person to be around Ryan at the moment and Sandy was almost glad the police had him in custody.

"The police tracked his mother from the brothers details and she's just visited, I'm not sure if she's left yet or not."

Sandy nodded. A nurse was arranged to be in Ryan's room as Sandy went to visit.

He opened the door and was confronted with a troubling scene. Ryan's mother, he presumed, was leaning over Ryan who was shrinking back from her.

Sandy heard her hissing at Ryan "…said he told them you were 18. Why didn't you take that chance to get outta here?" Ryan looked down, apologetic. His mother continued "I've told you about this, you know how much trouble this could bring us!"

"I told you mom, they believed the story, they think it was just a street fight." Ryan said in a quiet voice, desperate to convince his mom.

"They better Ryan - they better." She warned, raising a finger at his face.

Sandy saw Ryan shrink back further, then glance past his mother at him. He froze in shock then Sandy saw the emotions play across his face – relief and hope passed quickly to realization and panic before settling on that completely blank stare. Ryan cleared his throat. His mother took a second to catch on, continuing her rant before finally noticing Ryan's gaze and following it to the man at the door.

"Who are you?" she whined out.

"Uh Sandy, Sandy Cohen." Sandy replied, still in shock from what he'd just witnessed. The kid was seriously injured in hospital for Christ's sake. Why didn't she seem worried? He didn't need all this harassment and pressure. What kind of family did he have anyway? From what he'd heard he was beginning to fear the worst.

"Whatever, I gotta get home. I'll pick you up tomorrow Ryan, be ready at 5." She snapped, brushing past Sandy and out the door. Sandy faintly detected alcohol under the overpowering stench of smoke.

The nurse, who'd been talking to a workmate outside the room while Sandy stood in the door, followed him as he took a few steps in.

Sandy looked at the kid on the bed, acting for all the world as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn't just threatened by his own mother; his injured condition completely overlooked. He continued to stare at Sandy with a blank face, daring him to mention anything that he'd seen.

Sandy took up the challenge readily. He pulled a chair out from the wall, not too close to the boy he knew was shaken inside, looked him straight back in the eye and said gently but firmly "Ryan. We need to talk."