Heh, nearly forgot to post. Anyway... Family ties should be up next week, depends on how busy finals week and moving out of the dorms makes me. Massive, massive thank you to A Singular Jame, a close friend that has been supporting me from the beginning, well before I started posting.

Enjoy!

NoS

The knock on the door was unexpected. It was the weekend, and Barbara was home for once, having the day off to spend with her son, and after "Mr. Blinky" had spoken to her about what Jim was going through, their relationship had cleared up. Jim was laughing at some story his mom had just told when he answered the door, pulling it open to reveal a man with dark hair that was just starting to go grey, an unkempt beard, and rumpled clothes.

The two stared for a moment, the man smiling, and Jim waiting. "Can I help you?" Jim finally said.

The man's smile faltered. "Jimmy," he said, "it's-"

Jim's eyes went wide, and he didn't hesitate for a moment before he slammed the door shut. He didn't care what that man had to say. He didn't want to see him. Jim threw the deadbolt and turned the lock on the handle as well. A moment later, the handle rattled.

"C'mon, Jimmy," the man said from the other side of the door. "Open up. I just want to see you again."

Jim's jaw clenched as he turned away from the door. He stalked back through the house, shoulders hunching and his footsteps thudding heavily against the floor.

"Who was that, Jim?"

Jim immediately straightened and tried to act relaxed. "No one," he said. This was the first day they'd had together in a while. He didn't want to ruin it, to let him ruin it.

Barbara's eyebrow lifted. "Didn't sound like no one to me." She started walking towards the door, having learned by now that if Jim didn't want to tell her, he wasn't going to.

"Mom, really, it's not important," Jim begged, grabbing an arm to try and stop her from going to the door. Thuds echoed through the house as the man kept pounding on the door.

"Jim," Barbara gave him a sad look, "I thought we were past this. You can talk to me." She pulled her arm out of his grip and started walking again.

"Mom, please." She didn't stop. Jim took a breath, closed his eyes, and hunched his shoulders. He could say it. If it kept her from opening that door, he could say it. "It… It's Dad."

Barbara froze, hand just inches from the nob.

"Jimmy? C'mon, Jimmy, I know your there." His voice was muffled by the thick door, but it was still recognizable and, to Jim, seemed to echo over the room's occupants.

Jim opened his eyes at the silence that followed. "Please, Mom, just ignore him. He's not worth our time."

Suddenly, she was in motion again. First, she stalked away from the door, and Jim heaved a sigh of relief, thinking he'd won. Then, she grabbed a heavy cast iron pan from the kitchen and returned to the door.

"Mom, no!" Jim yelped, trying to get between her and the door.

"Jimmy?" James said from the other side of the door.

Barbara pushed past her son, unlocked the door in a heartbeat, and tore it open, the handle of the pan held in a death grip. "You get the hell out of here, James!" she yelled, eyes blazing and body tense with barely restrained fury. "You just up and vanish on us and come crawling back eleven years later!? I don't think so!"

James took a few steps back. "Barbara," he tried, "please, just hear me out!"

"Not a chance in hell, James! Jim, go call the police! James, if you don't leave right now, I will make you leave." She adjusted her grip on the pan, lifting it slightly. Jim shuffled off, he knew there was no stopping her now.

James glanced down at the heavy cookware and stepped back again, almost falling down the steps. "Please, I'm sorry. I- I didn't- It's complicated!"

"Complicated!? So complicated that you couldn't tell me you were leaving!? So complicated you couldn't be bothered to send a single goddamn letter or pick up the fucking phone!? Hell, they couldn't even track you down for child support! Which you never sent! Not even once, James! What the hell could possibly explain that!?"

"I-"

"And you turn up now!? Looking like this!? What do you want, James?" Barbara took a step forward, looking for all the world like a very pissed off wild cat that had finally cornered some exceedingly annoying prey. "Is it money!? Is that what you want!? I know you don't want to be a part of our lives again."

"I missed you!" he cried desperately, stumbling down the last few steps.

"You missed me? Not as much as Jim missed having his father! Not as much as I missed having someone I could trust and rely on!"

"The police are on their way." James jumped. He hadn't noticed Jim reappearing in the doorway. The teen stood just inside the house, body relaxed and his face blank. He looked disinterested, except for the knife held firmly at his side. His threat was the counter to his mother's. Her fire and fury and white knuckled grip, and his cold gaze and still hands promising a much swifter and more permanent end.

James gulped, but decided to try anyway. "Jimmy, tell your-"

"Don't you dare talk to him," Barbara hissed, leveling her pan at him.

"I don't go by 'Jimmy' anymore," Jim said, only a small flash in his eyes and a slight tensing in his shoulder betrayed how he felt, "not since you left."

James blinked. He wasn't sure what to do now. He glanced between the two and tried his luck again. "Don't you want to talk to your old man?"

"No."

James' arms fell to his side. He turned back to Barbara, who looked like she was seconds away from launching herself down to start swinging at him. "Listen, please, I- I've hit a rough patch. I really need some help right now."

She snorted. "I could have used some help raising our son."

"But-"

A car door slammed behind him. "Is this man bothering you, Dr. Lake?"

"Yes, Officer," her voice had gone cold and calm, "I would appreciate it if you would escort him off my property. I would also like to file a restraining order against him."

"I have a right to see my son!" James burst. Barbara's fiery anger had gone, making room for his.

"You gave up that right eleven years ago!" she spat back.

The officer went pale and said something into his radio as Jim continued to watch from the door, cataloguing every move and word.

"E-everyone settle down, now. Violence won't solve anything."

"Then tell this bitch to let me talk to my son!"

"Then talk to me and leave," Jim said. His voice was calm, cutting over the Barbara's. His calm composure was cracking, jaw clenching and fist tightening around the knife, but he still held the mask in place.

"Jimmy- I mean, Jim, don't you miss me?" James lifted his arms again, offering comfort and companionship to a lonely boy.

"Of course," Jim snarled, more of his mask finally slipping, "you left us. And on my birthday, too. We were supposed to build that bike together and you just left!"

"Get away from us," Barbara finished, shifting her grip on the pan again, "and don't come back."

"C'mon, sir," the officer said, taking a cautious step forward. "Let the courts handle it."

James scowled at Barbara and spat on the ground, before turning and stamping to his car. He slammed the door and started the engine. With one last middle finger to Barbara, he drove away a bit faster than he should have.

Once he was out of sight, Barbara slumped and her grip on the pan loosened. "That man," she muttered.

The officer cleared his throat. "If you could explain what happened, Dr. Lake, that would be much appreciated." He pulled out his notepad and a pen, prepared to take notes.

Barbara sighed a quickly explained, before excusing herself. Once inside the house, she locked the door again and turned to Jim.

"Jim, until he leaves town- Is that a knife?"

Jim glanced down at the blade for a second, mildly surprised she had noticed. "Um, yeah." A beat of silence. "You grabbed a frying pan."

Barbara hesitated, glancing down at her own improvised weapon. "I suppose I did." She sighed. "As I was saying. Don't go anywhere alone. Oh, one moment." She dashed off for a second and returned with a small canister that she normally kept in her purse or the pocket of her the lab coat she wore at work. "Here," she said handing it to him, "keep that with you."

Jim frowned at the pepper spray. "Don't you need it?" he asked as he tried to pass it back.

Barbara shook her head. "I have spares, and I don't want you alone or unarmed if he tries anything."

"You really think-"

"No, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Jim quickly pulled her into a one-armed hug, keeping the knife pointed at the ground. "We'll be fine," he said softly. "We pulled through the first time; we'll do it again."

Barbara returned the hug. "Just stay safe, Jim," she whispered into his ear. "For me."

Jim nodded slightly, then pulled away and went to the kitchen to return the knife to the knife block. They would get through this. They had to.