I have no place starting a new story with my ridiculously packed schedule but this plot bunny bit me and it just wouldn't let go. I don't mean any disrespect to anyone who has a friend or family member fighting in any war anywhere. The war depicted here is strictly fictitious. Also, I don't own the OC. Etc etc etc…

I might have screwed up the dog-fight scene at the beginning so if you know anything about flying a jet, let me know.

I hope you like this, it's not something that has been done before and it deviates from my usual Ryan/Summer stories. I'll love to hear what you'll think about it. Ergo READ and REVIEW!

Always faithful is the motto of the Marines. When one of their best is injured, he will not only have to struggle through his recovery but he will have to face his own demons. The question is, can he do this on his own?

"Alright Ghost, it's a beautiful day some aerial reconnaissance!" Lieutenant Ryan Atwood quipped into the radio of his F/A-18 Hornet. "Follow my lead and we'll have this over and done with soon…"

"Tell me Grass, why is it that we get stuck with all the shit assignments?" Ghost asked Ryan, using his callsign.

"I have no idea. Let's just take a few snaps and high tail it out of here…" Ryan told his wingman, not in the mood for chit-chat.

"We're coming up on the site; let's reduce altitude and airspeed…" Ryan ordered his subordinate as they were reaching their target.

Looking out of his window Ryan prepared to take a photo of a site that his superiors suspected had surface-to-air missiles and surface-to-surface missiles. Something which could be seen as hostile action and that could be catastrophic in the current political climate.

A light started blinking on his heads-up-display or HUD for short. Glancing at his radar he saw three blinking lights.

"Are you getting this Ghost?" Ryan asked.

"Confirm that Grass. Three bogeys on our six." Lieutenant told his superior.

"Command, this is Phantom Rider 1, we have three bogeys heading our way. Please advise." Ryan radioed into his command post.

"Phantom Rider 1, this is Command, the bogeys are of unknown origin, please be advised that your rules of engagement are to fire only when fired at. Atwood, your aircrafts aren't equipped for a firefight so if things get nasty get your asses out of there…" Captain Larson said from his position on the USS Bounty at the flight command.

"Roger that. Moving into formation."

"Grass, these bogeys are moving fast, the only jets that move that fast are MiG's…" Ghost radioed to Ryan.

"I am aware of that. Arm your weapons and do not fire until fired at!" Ryan ordered.

"Holy shit! Grass, we have three MiG-35's on our asses! These Fulcrum's are faster, more maneuverable and more heavily armed that the MiG-33's, if these guys decide to get hostile we are out gunned." Ghost said and Ryan didn't answer.

"Our asses are hot! They are coming in hard and fast, I think we should prepare ourselves for the worst…" Ghost said, his voice full of panic. "Shit! One of them has a radar lock, I'm going evasive!"

"If that wasn't hostile I don't know what was!" Ghost yelled after the missile blew past him.

Ryan realized they might have bitten off more than they could chew and he was also starting to panic. Even though he was one of the best pilots the marines had, nothing prepared him for this. 16 months of basic training and them 8 months of specialized training al blew out the window when the odds were stacked against you. Your sense became hyper alert, seeing every minute detail, hearing the faintest of noise and even smelling a hint of the oil used to lubricate the engine. Everything seemed to slow down. This Ryan knew out of experience. He had been in a combat situation before and he knew that if he was going to survive he was going to have to draw on every ounce of experience. He saw his wingman break formation out of the corner of his eye and his mind switched to combat mode.

He saw a MiG pull up behind him and allowed him to settle before he slammed on the breaks and let the MiG fly right past him, allowing Ryan to fall behind him, right on his ass. When the familiar red light flashed and a distinct beeping sound was heard, Ryan pulled the trigger, releasing a missile with an exclamation of "Fox 3!" signaling his wingman and command that he was firing. He saw the MiG in front of him burst into flames and focused his attention on the other two.

"Two left, both bogeys focusing on Ghost, I'm going for the leader…" Ryan informed who ever was listening to the radio.

He saw the two MiG's on his wingman's ass and dropped in behind them. The lead MiG went lateral and Ryan followed suit. He armed a missile and waited to get a missile lock. When the MiG went into a nose dive, Ryan almost lost him but somehow he stayed on his tail, through a hard left turn and a wide s-loop. When the light flashed and the beep echoed in his ears he pulled the trigger, taking out the MiG.

He was just starting to think that they would be able to win this fire-fight when a loud alarm went of in his ears, signaling that someone had a lock on him. He turned around in his seat and was shocked to see the third MiG had dropped in on him and had a perfect shot. He went evasive and pulled up, causing the missile to fly right past him. He had not however eluded the MiG who was still firmly behind him.

"I can't shake him!" He yelled into the radio with a shaky voice. "Ghost, where the hell are you!?"

For the next few seconds Ryan battled to lose his pursuer but he was unable to do so. The MiG switched to automatic guns and rattled off a few rounds.

"I'm hit! I'm hit!" Ryan yelled, not sure to who he was speaking to but aware that he needed help, fast.

"I've got a lock, I'm taking him out!" If finally came from Ghost and Ryan was relieved to see the MiG explode.

He could hear the applause and cries of relieve flood the radio, but the damage had been done, his right engine was shot to bits and his left wing was riddled with holes. The combination caused his plane to spin and for him to finally lose control of the Hornet.

"Mayday! Mayday! I'm losing control and I can't get it back! I'm going to eject!" Ryan said and hit the eject button with force. His jet's canopy blew open and he was ejected with one big jerk. His parachute opened and he started falling to the ground. He was nearing the ground when he started to panic, he had no idea where he was and didn't know if it was in a friendly country. He just prayed he would be alive to find out.

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Sandy and Kirsten Cohen were enjoying breakfast in their kitchen when their phone rang. Sandy picked up the phone, unbeknownst to its importance, and said in his normal relaxed tone, "Hello?"

"Mr. Cohen?" The authoritative voice on the other side asked and an ominous feeling took hold of his heart and he could all but breathe his confirmation.

"Mr. Cohen, this is Commander Harold Larwood of the USS Bounty, you are listed as the next of kin of Lieutenant Ryan Atwood. Is this correct?"

"That's correct." Sandy said, moving towards a chair because his legs were no longer capable of carrying him. Kirsten saw this and immediately she knew something was wrong.

"Mr. Cohen I am sorry to inform you that Lieutenant Atwood's plane was shot down ten days ago…"

"Ryan… Is he alright?" Sandy chokingly asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

When Kirsten heard her husband's words, her worst fears were confirmed. She and Sandy were unable to have children of their own and for many years they were happy with their situation. That is until Sandy's job as public defender made their paths cross with a young abused boy named Ryan Atwood. At first Kirsten was hesitant to have the boy in her house because he was a criminal her husband had to defend but after having him in her home for just one weekend, he had an irrevocable place in her heart. They adopted him and ever since he was their child, a part of their family. A child of their own would not have been more special to them than what Ryan was. Ever since he joined the army and was stationed overseas they had awaited the call to tell them their son was dead…

"Mr. Cohen, when your son's plane was shot down, he ejected over a hostile region and hew was captured. Two days ago we received intel that he was leading a group of three people through the wilderness and we picked him up. Your son lead an escape from where they were held captive, according to one of his fellow escapees your son was hit with shrapnel from a nearby mortar-explosion when he helped them escape, he said Lieutenant Atwood, like a true marine, wasn't leaving a man behind. When we found him, he was delirious and clutching a gun which had to be pried from his hands. He is currently on board of the USS Bounty and we are flying him into Florida tonight. He is safe, but he is badly hurt. The only reason I am telling you this over the phone is because your son needs you and I need you to meet us in Pensacola at the naval hospital."

"We're leaving immediately. We'll meet you there, Commander." Sandy put the phone down and saw tears in his wife's eyes. He went to her and he felt the tears prick his own eyes.

"Ryan's hurt. He's alive, but it's bad… We're meeting them at the hospital. They're moving him to the naval hospital in Pensacola."

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"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen?" A doctor in a white lab coat asked as he approached the waiting area.

Sandy and Kirsten stood up and went to the doctor. The smell of detergent in their noses and the sight of family members waiting for news of their loved ones added to the ominous feeling they had.

"We're the Cohens," Sandy said. "Is there any news on our son?"

"As you know," The doctor started and pushed his glasses higher on his nose, an act, Sandy mused, that the doctor thought made him look smarter, "The damage was quite extensive. En route here your son's lung collapsed and it was touch and go there for a while but we managed to repair the damage best we could. He has two broken ribs and multiple cuts and abrasions to his upper torso; we managed to remove all of the shrapnel as it was mostly small pieces. Most of the above will heal satisfyingly. We are worried about his left knee though. From what we can gather, a large chunk of shrapnel hit his knee and whilst it did not embed itself into the knee, it caused quite a lot of damage. It ripped his ACLR to shreds. We removed a lot of scar-tissue but the prognosis isn't good…"

"So, basically, he is going to need a lot of therapy before he can use his knee again?" Kirsten asked, still struggling to comprehend her son's injuries.

"What I am saying is, Mrs. Cohen, it'll be a miracle if your son ever regains any use of his knee, let alone full use. As it is, he is going to have a lot pain for the rest of his life… Now, I was hoping we could discuss what the best course of action will be for your son seeing as he listed you as medical proxy, Mr. Cohen…"

"No." Sandy said with in a harsh tone. "No. I will not accept this."

The doctor looked slightly taken aback and asked with a frown, "I'm sorry, is something the matter?"

"Yes. Yes there is. I mean no offense to you Doctor, but are you a specialist in orthopedics?" When the doctor shook his head in denial, Sandy continued, "Well then, you are in no position to tell me that my son will never be able to use his leg again! I'm having Ryan moved to a facility that specializes in his type of injury!"

"But," The doctor tried to placate Sandy, "as a member of the United States Marine Corp. his treatment here is free and we might not be specialists but we are still capable of treating your son."

Before turning and leaving, Kirsten said, in clear support of her husband's decision, "We understand. We appreciate what you've done for Ryan but he needs specialized help and we can give it to him. Money is no object."

Nodding his head the doctor said. "I'll get a list of suitable facilities in your area. As a fellow Marine, let me just say that the entire Corp. owes a debt of gratitude to your son. He saved four lives, he is a genuine hero and I salute him. Semper Fidelis."

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"Ryan? Honey?" Kirsten whispered when a flickering of his eyelids indicated he was waking up.

"Kirs… Kirsten." Ryan struggled to say with his raspy voice.

"Shhh… Don't try and talk too much. The doctor says your throat is going to be sore from the pipe they put in to help you breath." Kirsten said and brushed a hair from his eyes.

"Water." Ryan asked and Kirsten held a glass of water in front of him so that he could take a drink. Her heart grew heavy when she realized how easily she could've lost her son.

"What happened?" Ryan croaked.

"You were hurt when a mortar exploded near you as you were escaping… The doctor's say that it was a miracle how you managed to get so far with your injuries." Kirsten told Ryan the story and he nodded and closed his eyes again, too exhausted to continue. Kirsten took this as a sign that she could finally get some rest herself because she was now sure that Ryan was going to be okay.

Turning away from the coffee machine she saw Sandy talking to a doctor and made her way towards them.

"Hey…" She greeted Sandy and he slipped an arm around her.

"Dr. Wilkins was just telling me about a facility in Anaheim where an orthopedic surgeon called Dr. Chavez specializes in injuries like Ryan's. Dr. Chavez used to be one of the Mighty Ducks doctors… Dr. Wilkins thinks that we should get Ryan transferred there as soon as possible because if there is a chance that surgery might help they'll have to do it as soon as they swelling is down." Sandy explained his brief conversation to Kirsten.

"Ryan woke up." Was all Kirsten said in reply before hugging Sandy and letting her emotions course through her.

For his part, Sandy felt the rock drop from his stomach and he too finally let his emotions take over, silently letting a tear fall for the son he almost lost.

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It was much later when Sandy and Kirsten were sitting in Ryan's room, chatting animatedly, not breeching the sensitive subject that was a like a big elephant in the room.

"So, we were talking with the doctor and he thought it was a good idea that we move you tomorrow, he called ahead and Dr. Chavez is expecting you…" Sandy told Ryan the plans they had made.

"That's good… I guess." Ryan said without any enthusiasm.

"It is good. So, Ryan, I know we haven't really spoken about this but, what happened out there." Sandy ventures, attempting to analyze the big pink elephant.

Sandy saw the raw emotion flash through Ryan's eyes before his face hardened, taking on a stony front. "I was captured and I escaped. Let's leave it at that…" Ryan said with a voice void of any emotion.

Sandy glanced towards Kirsten and saw his fear and worry over Ryan mirrored in her eyes. He realized that Ryan maybe needed more time to process his emotions. He decided to broach the subject at a later stage when Ryan seemed more willing to speak. By nature Ryan was a quiet person, not airing his emotions, but over the years Sandy had learned which buttons to push on order to get Ryan to talk. He appreciated that he might have to work harder this time to get Ryan to open up but he was more than willing to try.

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"You see Mr. and Mrs. Cohen Ryan has a severe myotendinous strain of his anterior cruciate ligament. Basically one of his ligaments have snapped to such a degree that it appears to be bundled up. The good news is that Ryan's injury is of such a nature that his ACL can be repaired by surgery. The bad news however is that even with the surgery, Ryan's knee will probably never be completely the same, which means he might not regain a full range of motion and he will have pain for the rest of his life. Surgery can make it better, but it will not fix it…" Dr Chavez explained to the Cohen's after his exam of Ryan's knee.

"We understand that. But you can help? All is not lost?" Sandy inquired.

"Yes, I can help." Dr. Chavez chuckled. "After his surgery he is going to need extensive rehabilitation. I can recommend a few rehab centers in our area. Unfortunately because we sort of squished Ryan into the schedule, we are only able to do the surgery and keep him here during the early stages of recovery, we regretfully do not have space for him during his rehab." The doctor blushed before adding, "I really am sorry about this…"

"We understand doctor but we were planning on Ryan doing his rehab at home. We were thinking about getting a live-in therapist." Kirsten explained.

"I might have someone who will be willing to help. I'll be sorry to let her go but she needs the money more and, if I can speak frankly, I would love to get her away from her no-good fiancé."

Marissa Cooper was heading up to her office when her boss called her into his office. She was a physical therapist who started working with Dr. Chavez straight out of college. She couldn't complain about her job because the money and the hours were good but she sometimes felt as if something was missing. Her fiancé was an assistant district attorney and she sometimes worried that he was only with her because she looked good on his arm. She sometimes sat looking at other couples and admired them. There were no fireworks when she kissed Anthony and the ground didn't shake at the mention of his name but she cared for him deeply and she was certain he would never hurt her.

"You wanted to see me, Dr. Chavez?" Marissa asked when she entered her boss' office.

"Yes, we've got a new patient and the Cohen's here have an offer for you, please, sit down."

Intrigued, Marissa complied.

"As I was saying to Mrs. Cohen, you are our best physical therapist and I believe you are best suited for the job at hand." Dr. Chavez said.

Confused, Marissa said, "I'm sorry Doctor, I'm not sure what you are talking about…"

"I'm getting to that… The Cohen's son is scheduled for an ACL reconstruction tomorrow. He was a late entry on the schedule so we can't facilitate his recovery here. The Cohen's were hoping you would agree to be their live-in therapist, at their house in Newport, whilst their son undergoes his recovery…"

Late entry could only mean one thing: enough money to skip a waiting list of three months and judging by the Cohen's clothes and the location of their house, she was right. She was in no mood for a stuck up little rich boy who hurt his leg playing video games. "I'm sorry; I'll have to decline your offer. I'm still paying of student loans and my fiancé and I are looking for a house so that would be inconvenient for the two of us…"

"We'll double whatever you are currently getting paid…" Sandy said, shocking Marissa.

To Marissa this was now a whole other ballgame, still uncertain she said, "I don't know…"

Kirsten turned to the younger woman and said, "Flying is my son's entire world. He needs to get back up in the air or he'll fade away. The marines won't let him fly if he doesn't pass his physical and if Dr. Chavez is correct, you are the best person to help him get back on his feet. Literally and figuratively."

Touched by Kirsten's words Marissa agreed to be work for them on a trial basis. She already had bad feelings about what was going to happen and she hadn't even met the patient yet.

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Entering the room behind the Cohen's, Marissa saw her patient and when his eyes met hers she was shocked speechless for a few seconds. His eyes were a shade of blue that could only be described as eerie. With his head of blonde hair cut to just shorter than a quarter inch he had quite the ominous appearance. There was unexplainable electricity in the air and Marissa was certain she was the only one who realized that.

"Ryan, this is Marissa Cooper. She's going to be staying with us after your surgery; she's going to be helping you with your rehab…" Sandy explained.

Sandy saw his son look Marissa up and down and much to his surprise, some of the passiveness washed out of his eyes, it was however replaced by a devious look and something Sandy could only describe as desire. Sandy struggled to suppress a laugh at his son who was ever the ladies man. He just hoped it wasn't going to cause a problem…

"Dr. Cooper… Very nice to meet you." Ryan said.

Marissa said in reply, "Please, technically I'm not a doctor, so please don't address me as one…"

"I don't see a ring so I can't call you Mrs. Cooper. I'm not going to call you Miss. Cooper and Marissa makes it sound as if we friends." Ryan said with a smirk. Before Marissa could answer Ryan added, "I think I'll call you Cooper…"

"Mr. Cohen…" Marissa began, not aware of Ryan's parentage, but Ryan interrupted.

"Actually it's Lieutenant Atwood but you can call me Ryan."

Oh yes, it was going to be an uphill battle, of that Marissa was sure.