Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters. Everything belongs to FOX and Josh Schwartz.
Sandy's POV
"Is he okay?" I turned to see Kirsten and Seth standing right out in the hallway as I came out of the guest room, carefully closing the door. It didn't take long for Ryan to fall asleep and I didn't want to wake up. He could use all the sleep he could get.
"He'll be okay." I assured. He would be, as long as he got some rest.
"I knew he wouldn't last through dinner—damn, I should made a bet." Seth said.
"You knew he was sick and didn't say a word?" I crossed my arms, looking at Seth as did Kirsten.
"Sorry. He asked me not to say anything. I wanted to but I wasn't going to because I wouldn't have his trust and that would probably come back to haunt me in the future. And I—" Seth rambled in response before I stopped him.
"Okay, I get it." I stopped him there. I could get the picture without much more explanation. I got his intentions; there really wasn't a win-win scenario given with what Seth had to work with.
"I didn't see the point in keeping it to himself, but I had to respect his wishes." Seth added.
"Well Seth, let's just say you were more fortunate than Ryan was." I told him.
I knew it wasn't completely Seth's fault thinking it was odd for Ryan to want to keep it to himself. Whenever he got sick, Kirsten and I would be at his beck and call. And since he's gotten older, I think Kirsten gets a little kick out of taking care of him. Seth's been used to that most of his life. And he likes to forget what Ryan went through before he came to us. None of us like to think about the abuse Ryan went through. I could get an idea without having to ask. If Dawn had been drinking, if either of her kids were sick, it would have been a burden. I knew Ryan probably wouldn't want us to worry. Though that was our job.
"Will he be okay?" Seth asked.
"He will. Don't worry Seth, we'll take care of him. You just worry about getting your homework done."
I walked with Kirsten back to the kitchen after Seth went upstairs to his room. "Are you sure Ryan going to want to be taken care of?" Kirsten brought up and I shrugged, not sure how to answer that. I doubted it but I didn't think that mattered; we would do it anyways.
"Well I'm not just going to let him be." We always took care of Seth when he was sick. Ryan deserved the same. He was our son now and I doubt he's ever been taken care of before.
"I didn't mean it like that Sandy."
"I know." I nodded. I was mostly bugged by the fact that Ryan would want to keep this to himself. I knew why he would do it. But it worried me. This seems like a cold but that could only be the case this time. It worried me in the case it was something more serious. If Ryan tried to keep something like that from us, that could cause a lot of harm to him.
"Do you want me to go out to the store and get some stuff for him?" Kirsten asked.
I nodded; it'd probably be better to be prepared now if Ryan doesn't get any better tomorrow. And I was sure he'd be just the same or worse in the morning. "The usual stuff you get for Seth. Cough Medicine, Soup, Popsicles, crackers, some ginger ale, Advil…stuff like that." I tell her. Kirsten nods and grabs her keys before leaving the house.
While Kirsten was out and Seth was doing his homework—or at least that's what I hope he is doing—I went to check on Ryan. He was asleep, so I would have to be careful so I don't wake him. I gently put my hand on his forehead; he felt really warm.
I knew I should probably take his temperature, but I didn't want to wake him. For now, I'll just get a cool washcloth to put on his head. At least, it might help bring the fever down.
***
Ryan's POV
I was eight years old and the flu had been going around the school. Theresa had already gotten had been forced to stay home not too long after the first person caught it and didn't show up to school. I had hoped I wouldn't get it for a couple of reasons.
1: Being sick sucks.
2: I don't want to miss school; its only place I can get away from Jake, my mom's current boyfriend.
3: I'll get my ass kicked.
But I got sick.' It was maybe two days later. I woke up with congestion, a sore throat, and a fever. But I knew I couldn't let my mom or Jake know I was sick; they hated that. I forced myself to get up, get dressed, and go to school no matter how awful I felt. I tried to get through the day, acting like I was fine. I probably would have gotten away but I had to cough. My teacher asked me if I was sick. I told her, I wasn't and that I was completely fine, but she didn't believe me. All the teachers then were on high alert because of that flu going around. She took me to the nurse and she took my temperature. I had a fever and then the school nurse scolded me for coming to school as I could infect other students. I guess she was right, but it was the flu; she screamed at me like I came to the school with the plague. I told her not to call my mother, but she didn't listen. When my mother came in, she came with all smiles; it was kind of scary. But I knew it was just an act as I knew she wasn't going act how she normally does in front of people. But once we got home, all bets were off. That's where no one could stop her or whatever abusive boyfriend she was staying with at the time. She took me home and as soon as we got through the door, she started hitting me.
"DO YOU THINK ITS RIGHT I HAVE TO TAKE TIME OUT OF MY DAY TO PICK MY 'SICK' SON FROM SCHOOL?! HOW SELFISH IS THAT?!" She screamed as she slapped me across the face and then she kicked me in the stomach. I curled up into a ball to somewhat shield myself from more hits. I curled out when the hitting stopped. I flinched when she touched my forehead.
"You don't even feel warm." She shook her head. "You're not even sick. You're such a lying, worthless, piece of trash. Just like your father. Just like your idiotic brother!" I started to cough and shiver.
"Oh shut up! You're not fooling anyone!" She screamed as she pulled me up and threw me into the bathroom, locking door. "Since you decided not go to school, you'll spend the day cleaning the bathroom." She said. I guess she also wanted to make sure I didn't make a mess, in case I felt like I was going to throw up. "Jake will deal with you later." She added.
It was always worse when I was sick. It seemed liked to put me through more hell.
***
Sandy's POV
I came back and gently placed the wet cloth on his forehead. I really hoped that this would be able to help with his fever until the morning when Kirsten and I could give him some medicine. I knew I should give him some tonight, but he needed his rest and I didn't want to wake him unless it's absolutely necessary. I got up to leave Ryan, but then I heard him start to mumble as if he were having a bad dream. Maybe I should wake him. I knew I should. Sure enough, Ryan would wake up at some point soon. I figured waking him now couldn't do much harm; and at least he could take some medicine.
"Ryan." I said as I shook his shoulder, gently.
Ryan's POV
I woke up and saw Sandy standing over me. I blinked and sighed in relief. But then I felt a bit guilty as I remembered how I threw up, now giving the Cohens a reason to resent having me in their house. I shouldn't be such a burden. Why wasn't I able to keep this to myself?
"You okay?" Sandy asks and I nodded.
"Well now that you're up, how are you feeling?" He asked and I shrugged before telling him I was felt fine. Sandy and Kirsten didn't need to worry about me. I could take care of myself. "Ryan, be honest." Sandy seemed to know. "I know you're sick and don't tell me you're not." I sighed. I guess after throwing up in their bathroom, they wouldn't believe my protests; at least for now. "Does anything hurt?" Sandy asks me and I nodded.
"My head. My throat." I admitted, though I was sure the throat probably came from when I vomited.
"What about your stomach?" He asked. Though I thought that was pretty obvious considering how well I handled the dinner.
"It's okay." I said. It was a bit uneasy, but I didn't really classify that as pain. It wasn't that bad. It felt a little better after throwing up so he didn't need to worry.
"Is there anything else?" He asked.
"I'm bit cold." I admitted. I had been feeling cold all day, but I hadn't wanted to move to get a blanket to raise the heat. "But it's not a big deal." But Sandy didn't take my word for it. He left for a moment and came back with an extra blanket. I sighed. I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't want them to think they had to get me things. I could make do with what I already had. They had given me enough. Sandy puts his hand on my forehead once again and then manages to slip a thermometer past my lips; I guess he wanted to see how high my fever was. It beeped after maybe a minute and Sandy took it out as he took the hand off my forehead.
"101.9" Sandy reads.
"I'm fine." I insisted.
"Not according to this you're not." Sandy said, standing up. "It's okay. Kirsten will be back soon with some medicine for you."
"It's okay you don't—" I was cut off by Kirsten coming in and handed Sandy a bottle of medicine. Well that was quick. I watched as he poured a dose of liquid medicine into a dosage cup. He put the bottle on the nightstand that was next to bed momentarily. "Ryan, sit up and take this." Sandy said and then spoke again before I could attempt to argue. "No arguments." I pushed my body up and took the cup from him. I swallowed the bitter medicine and laid back down as he put the medicine away. "Try and get some rest. If you need anything—and it is okay if you do—let us know. Otherwise, I'll check on you in the morning." Sandy tells me as he gently rubs my back. I shut my eyes and nodded at what he said, too tired to protest that I was okay and didn't need anything. I hope I will be better in the morning. Then they didn't have to think about worrying about me.