Thanks, everyone, for reading and reviewing. Bonus points to Gibasi for knowing what chapter was coming next, and extra credit marks to famous99 for doing research to figure out the next chapter. Much thanks to Maud for her advice and smc36 for everything. I don't work for Fox - as a result, I don't own anything.

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PART 5: ACCEPTANCE

Ryan woke up with a splitting headache and his tongue felt like it was covered in a sock and stuck to the roof of his mouth. He would kill for a glass of water, if he thought he could keep it down. But the thought of raising his head off the pillow was more than he could stand.

Suddenly, the room got significantly brighter. He tried to crack an eye open to see who opened the door, but his eyes felt swollen. He settled for groaning and rolling over away from the door, pulling the blanket over his head.

"Good morning!" Sandy was talking way too loudly.

Ryan tried to say something, but all that came out was a moan.

"How was the party last night? Lots of fun, I hear?" Sandy plopped down on the bed beside Ryan, the movement driving a knife through his skull.

Ryan wondered if he'd already heard about it, why was he in here asking? He rolled back over and tried to open his eyes again. He succeeded in opening them a crack. "Yeah, great," he managed to force out.

Sandy held out a big glass of water and two Tylenol. Ryan looked longingly at the glass of water but he didn't know if he could actually make himself vertical to drink it. Sandy set the glass of water down and pulled a bendy straw from his pocket. "That bad, huh?"

He held the glass and Ryan took a big sip of water. "Whoa, slow down. Not too much at once. You don't look like you're in any shape to run to the bathroom." He held out the Tylenol, and Ryan swallowed them with a bit more water. "I'll just leave the glass here for you." Sandy set the glass down on the bedside table.

"You know, kid, drinking isn't the best way to deal with your problems."

Ryan didn't realize he had problems to be drinking away. "Yeah, I ..." Ryan tried to force the words out, but even he could hear they weren't much more than a mumble.

"We don't need to talk about it now. But we will talk about it." Sandy patted him on the leg. "I think you could use some more sleep, huh?"

Ryan moaned gratefully and closed his eyes again. He tried to remember what happened the night before because he couldn't remember coming home. He remembered drinking rum and coke with Luke. He remembered being with Emily – she was pretty cute, maybe he would call her. He vaguely remembered being mad at Jeff and then – did he push Seth? Did that really happen? Everything turned into a blur. He was down the beach in the dark and maybe Summer was sitting with him. And he might have been crying. This was why he stayed away from hard liquor – it had the potential to be a messy drunk night. He wished he could remember what he was upset about. And how he got home.

He fell back asleep, not looking forward to a lecture on why not to drink so much, dreading seeing Sandy again. Unless he brought more water. More water would be good.

The next time Ryan woke up, his head wasn't quite so sore, and he could actually manage to sit up. He put on his slippers and shuffled his way into the main house. No one was in the kitchen so he didn't have to worry about talking to anyone right away. He was craving greasy food, so he rummaged through the fridge for some bacon and eggs.

He had just finished cooking the bacon and was dropping the eggs in to fry them in the bacon fat when Seth shuffled in, looking just as rumpled as Ryan felt. He sat down at the island.

Ryan gestured to the frying pan. "You want some?"

Seth shook his head. "No, man. How can you even think about eating that stuff? I wasn't near as drunk as you were, and the thought of food makes my stomach turn right now."

"If you were drunk too, how'd we get home? I vaguely remember giving you the keys, but..."

"Summer was the responsible one last night. She thought it was great you were drunk and stayed sober so she could drive."

Ryan slid the fried eggs onto the plate with the bacon and some buttered toast. He sat down next to Seth and glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. "Did I hit you last night? I sort of remember you falling on the sand, and my knuckles are bruised..."

"No, you just nudged me and I lost my balance. Your knuckles probably match the bruises on Jeff's face."

"I hit Jeff? Do you know why?"

"Luke said Jeff was being his usual idiotic self and you just blew up. You don't remember?"

Ryan shook his head. "Most of the night's a blur."

"You were pretty upset by the end of it. You'd only talk to Summer. If Luke or I went near you, you'd yell at us to get away and get even more upset."

Ryan ran his hand over his face. This is why he didn't like to drink. Alcohol made people do things they wouldn't do sober. "Sorry, man. I don't know what happened."

They both heard the front door close. "Well, you better think of something, because Dad's really not happy."

"You've talked to him already?"

"Just last night when we got home. I haven't felt the full wrath yet."

Sandy walked into the kitchen. "Oh good, you're both here. It'll save me the trouble of giving a lecture twice." He rested his hands on the counter and stared at them. "What were you two thinking?"

Seth jumped in first. "It was graduation, Dad. What did you think we were going to do out all night?"

"I was hoping you weren't going to drink yourselves unconscious."

Seth opened his mouth to protest that technically he wasn't unconscious, but he didn't think that would go over well.

"How old are you?" Sandy asked.

"Eighteen."

Sandy looked at Ryan, who was staring at his plate and hadn't looked up since Sandy started. He waited for Ryan to answer.

"Seventeen."

"In the state of California, the legal drinking age is twenty-one. Which neither of you are."

"Oh, Dad, you're not going to argue the legalities of it, are you? You're the one who defended Grandpa last year and you know what he did was wrong."

"Don't even start, Seth. This is completely different. And when you have your own place that you are paying for yourself, you can do what you want. Until then, both of you are our responsibility and we call the shots.

"So, what can we do with you two? We discussed it all morning, debating how we can show you that we are seriously disappointed in both of you. Your mother came up with an idea that I wholeheartedly agreed with. So, the car we ordered for graduation for you two that was supposed to delivered today? We cancelled it. We'll have it delivered in the fall when you go to college, but you won't have it for the summer."

"Dad, that is so unfair! Why couldn't you just ground us or something?"

"We thought about grounding you, but we thought you were getting too old to be grounded."

"We're not to old to be grounded. Are we, Ryan?"

Ryan just shrugged.

Sandy considered this. "OK. If you want to be grounded, you're both grounded for two weeks. No going anywhere other than work for two weeks."

Seth gave a sigh of relief. "So we can get the car?"

Sandy smirked. "Oh no. I already told you – we cancelled that. No car for the summer and no going out for two weeks."

"Dad! How can you do this to us?"

"I'm not doing it to you. You did it to yourselves. You need to re-earn our trust – show us that you are responsible enough to have a car of your own. Because your behaviour last night were not responsible. Not at all."

"We were responsible. We gave the keys to Summer and she didn't drink so she could drive home. I can't believe you're taking the car away." Seth glanced at Ryan, who hadn't looked up since Sandy started talking. "Some of us were more irresponsible than others."

Ryan stole a glance at Seth, then looked back down.

"Seth, don't try to shift the blame. I was here when you got home last night. I talked to you. I know just how drunk you were. You were more than one or two beer drunk, and that's unacceptable."

Seth dropped his head. He was muttering to himself about the unfairness, but he knew better than to argue any more with his dad. He realized if he kept arguing, they'd end up grounded for a month.

"All right, why don't you go and take a shower? You'll feel better." Both boys started to stand up. "I want to talk to Ryan." Ryan sat back down and pushed his plate away.

Sandy sat down in the seat Seth had just vacated. "So." He glanced over at Ryan. "Big day yesterday, huh?"

Ryan shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Ryan continued to stare at his hands. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me what going on in your head. How you're feeling."

"I'm fine. A little hung-over, maybe..."

"Ryan." Sandy turned to face him and put his hand on his shoulder. "I talked to Seth last night, and Summer this morning..."

"Summer?"

"She called. She was worried about you."

Ryan turned to face Sandy. "Look. I was drunk. Which I shouldn't have been. But I was. And people do and say stuff when they're drunk that they don't mean."

"Ryan..."

"Sandy, maybe somewhere deep inside me, I am upset about my mom. But here, on the surface, where I function and can think about it, I'm not. I meant what I said yesterday. You guys have given me an awesome opportunity. I see how it could have been - how it should have been – with my mom."

Ryan looked up as Kirsten walked into the room. She noticed them sitting, talking earnestly. "Should I...?" She gestured back toward the door.

Ryan waved his hand. "No, that's OK. I was just telling Sandy – it sucks that my mom's the way she is. But I can't change that. The baseline of hurt is always there. But this way, I avoid the big spikes of hurt that she causes whenever I see her or talk to her. Last night was just the last big spike?"

Kirsten leaned back against the counter and brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh, sweetie..."

"No, Kirsten, it's just..." He sighed. "It's just the way it is. It's just my life. I can't change what's happened. But I can control whether I let her hurt me again. More."

Kirsten smiled at him. "OK."

Ryan nodded and started to stand up. Kirsten dropped her smile. "But I don't ever want to see either of you boys come home that drunk again."

Ryan ducked his head. "Sorry." He turned to Sandy. "I know I'm grounded, but can I use the phone? I think I have some people I need to apologize to about last night."

He turned to Ryan. "Sure, you can use the phone."

Ryan cleared his plate to the sink and then left the kitchen for the pool house.

"Grounded?" Kirsten walked toward Sandy and put her arms around him. "I thought we agreed on the car?"

Sandy looked contrite. "We did. I just got a little heady with power earlier."

"They lost the car and they're grounded?"

Sandy nodded. "Too much?"

Kirsten grinned. "Nah, it'll make them think twice next time. And you know there will be a next time."

THE END