You have no idea how proud I am of me right now. I've written another OC fic! I mean, I've been meaning to for ages, but never got round to it; but here it is! In it's full glory! I sigh. This is a truly great moment for me, the little fandom-hopper that I am. I've published four stories, and they're all of them in a different genre to the one before. For me to actually publish one in the same fandom is nothing short of miraculous. Aren't you proud of me? I certainly am!

This fic is sort of along the same sort of lines as the first, but very differently executed, I think. Biological family don't really figure, except for Trey, or if they do, it's just in memory. This is more about trust issues, as the summary implies... and, speaking of 'Father', it should be updated pretty quickly. i.e. tomorrow, or the day after that. Chapter 6 is being particularly difficult. I have to resist the urge to argue with my computer when I sit down to write it... I have to argue with the computer, you see, because if I didn't, I'd be arguing with myself, and that would make my parents think that I was even more insane. Which wouldn't be a good thing.

Anyway - I hope that this story is also liked, and I hope that you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Well, you see, the only reason I would want to actually own the OC would be for the money. Write for it, sure, that'd be great fun - but own it? Nah. Too much responsibility goes with running a hit TV show. I'll stick to writing fanfiction about it, and pretending to be as rich as Josh Schwartz and co. Who are, incidentally, the real owners.

There. Please don't sue me. Cos, I mean, you're welcome to my student thesis, cos it's crap, but I don't think you'd like it very much. It's on how TV adversely affects our society... ;-D

READ AND ENJOY!

Ryan went to the pool house so relieved he was shaking. He’d been expecting to be chucked out – or maybe for Sandy to hit him. He sat on the bed, and let out a long breath, shutting his eyes.

Then the door clicked open, and he realised he’d relaxed too soon.

“Ryan.”

“Hi.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re a complete fool.” Ryan’s heart sank. Of all things, he couldn’t deal with this.

“I know, and I’m sorry, OK? I didn’t mean to… to screw up so badly.”

“No.” Sandy agreed, harshly. He didn’t want to be so cruel to his foster son, but really, Ryan had to learn that he couldn’t go around doing this. “You were just intending not to get caught.”

Ryan looked up at him, finally, and shrugged. “I guess.” He agreed, non-committal. “So.” He stood up, and wrapped his arms around himself. “What happens now?”

“What do you mean, what happens now?” Sandy asked, confused. “We’ve already agreed that you’re going to be punished.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ryan stated, quietly. “And you’re here to do it, aren’t you?”

“Do what, Ryan?”

Did Sandy expect Ryan to ask him to beat crap out of him? God, that was even more fucked up than AJ.

Ryan took a deep breath, and looked away. “I dunno.” If Sandy wanted to play games, he was going to have to tell Ryan the rules first, because he, Ryan, had no idea what was going on here. If Sandy didn’t know what Ryan was talking about, why was he here? And if he did know, why couldn’t he just get on with it?

“OK, look, I came here to tell you that you could talk to me any time you wanted. I need to know you, Ryan, and I thought I did, but now I’m starting to wonder. You’re different from the kid that I brought home, and I can’t work out whether that’s a good or bad thing.”

“What?” Ryan shot back, off-balance and on edge. “Neither of you really liked the delinquent you brought home, I thought maybe you’d prefer me.”

“You make it sound like you killed Ryan Atwood, and replaced him with some sort of conditioned clone.” Sandy said, trying a joke.

“Oh, I didn’t kill him.” Ryan lashed out. “That was you. You’ve been trying to make me into some little Newport kid, and I’m not, I’m…”

“Excuse me?” Sandy took a step forward, angrier now. “We’ve been nothing but good to you since you got here…”

“And you expect me to be grateful for it!” Ryan opened his mouth to continue, but Sandy beat him to it.

“Well, we didn’t expect you to be this ungrateful!”

“News flash, I am grateful, OK? You have no idea how grateful I am! But I wish that I could stop being your life’s good deed, and stop being the delinquent juvenile offender from Chino that you saved, and start being a human being. You throw stuff at me, and I’m being as grateful as I can for everything I’m getting, and all the opportunities you’re giving me, without you treating me like a person! I…” he looked away. “At least in Chino they listened to me. In Chino, when I said something, everyone who knew me believed me.” Sandy made a half-sceptical, half surprised noise. He hadn’t known that Ryan could speak so much. “And, you know what? It was the truth. When I say something, I’m telling you the truth, as much as I know it, or as much as I can. It was the same in Chino, and I had a lot more reason to lie when I was there.”

“If you’re so truthful, why can’t you talk to me?”

“Because you don’t believe me when I say it!”

“Try me!”

“I did, or did you miss that?” he snapped, frustrated. “I’ve been saying it for the past week or so, and no one’s been believing me!”

“Oh, come on, Ryan, do you expect me to believe that? You’ve been saying how much you hate the kid, and then you go and do something like this. What do you think we’re going to think?”

“You said that you wanted to be like my parents should have been?” Ryan said, sarcastically, and Sandy nodded, briefly. “Then you should damn well listen to me, when I say something, which is what parents do!”

With that, Ryan leant his head against the door post, as Sandy, in intense frustration, lashed out at the same spot. Ryan’s cheekbone, and Sandy’s fist collided with a crunch, and the other side of Ryan’s face sliced against the ornate carvings of the door frame. Sandy stared at his fist in shock, and then looked up at Ryan. Because there had been no way for his head to give against the blow, Ryan had felt something crack in his face as Sandy’s fist collided with it, and he could feel his cheekbone give when he pressed it, wincing. It was starting to swell, and bruise.

“Oh, my god, Ryan, I am so, so sorry.” Sandy whispered. “I would never… I never… I never meant to hurt you. I…”

“If this was what you wanted to do, couldn’t you have just got it over with first?” Ryan asked, his voice strained with pain. “You may hate me, but even AJ just got it over with.”

Sandy’s heart cracked. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, brokenly. “I just… it was an accident…”

Ryan looked up at him, for the first time since it happened, and Sandy could barely meet his eye. There was a horrible mix of fear, betrayal and pain that made him wince, and he braced himself for some impassioned speech of betrayal – even though he knew that, horribly, Ryan was used to this sort of thing, and was unlikely to go melodramatic on him – when all Ryan actually said was

“Don’t ever do this to Seth. He couldn’t cope with it.”

“Ryan, I didn’t mean to do it to you…”

Ryan held up a hand to interrupt him. “Don’t. Just don’t. If that’s the only reason I’m here, fine…”

“What would that reason be?”

“I don’t know!” Ryan burst out. “I don’t know why you bothered to bring me home with you, introduce me to your wife and get me new clothes and send me to a good school, if all you want to do is hit me…” Sandy gaped at him. “But I don’t care, you can. Just… please, don’t get big about it.”

“What!” he gasped.

“Don’t find it so much fun hitting me that you start on Seth or Kirsten…”

“Ryan, I am never going to hit you again, and I wouldn’t dream of hitting Seth or Kirsten. And I can’t believe that you’re just going to take this from me. Why…”

“I don’t want anyone else hurt by this, OK? So, if it’s not going to happen again, let’s just pretend like it never happened in the first place.” Sandy stared at him, shocked. “You don’t tell, I don’t tell. Just… forget about it.”

“I can’t. I’ve betrayed you…”

“No.” Ryan said, blankly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ryan…” Sandy pleaded, “We’ve got to talk about this…”

“About what?”

“Ryan!” Sandy barked, frustrated. “Come on! This is serious!”

“It’s not.”

“This is a big deal, alright? I hit you, and I need to apologise for that. I need to do more than apologise, I need to make this right.”

“You can’t, Sandy, OK?” Ryan said, tiredly. “You don’t believe me about Oliver, and you just hit me. You can’t retract either of them, and until something changes about Oliver, it’s gonna stay like that. And I can’t forget. Maybe…” he shrugged, and looked away. “Maybe it would be better if you did chuck me out.”

“You… you want to leave?”

“I don’t know.” Ryan looked at him, blankly, and suddenly was the same clever, complicated, dangerous kid Sandy had first met. “Maybe I should. At least I wouldn’t be tearing your family apart and complicating your life. I’ll… I’ll talk to my social worker in the morning.” Sandy’s heart froze at the point of breaking. Ryan turned away, and sat on the bed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Unable to say anything, Sandy opened the door, and paused, just before leaving.

“Please don’t go.” He said, softly, throwing the words through the silence like pebbles through glass. Ryan looked up at him, and his eyes were childlike now.

“I can’t stay.” He whispered back, and that alone gave Sandy hope.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He agreed. “Good night, Ryan.”

He couldn’t smile yet – but he could hope.

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