It had always been an ugly house.

The floorboards were more scratches than wood, grooved with little claw marks of various rodents. He remembered how they used to creak underfoot, echoing eerily as invisible monsters passed his bedroom during their nightly prowl.

They creaked now, too. He drifted past the china cabinets, ignoring his reflection in the dusty glass panes. His eyes ran over the familiar shelves, catching on the chipped statuettes and books that had never opened, framed pictures of long-dead relatives…He stopped, picking one up at random: an austere-looking woman, sitting straight-backed with her chin lifted slightly.

"Who's that?" Emma's amused voice asked, her footsteps scuffing softly behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder, looking over it curiously. "Old grandmother?"

"I have no idea." Neal exhaled, putting the picture back. "I don't know who half these people are." He stood back, leaning into her embrace. "Can't believe I'm back here," he murmured. "I thought I'd left this place for good."

"You don't have to do this, you know," she reminded him. "You can still say 'no'."

"I can't do that to Ruby," he said, shaking his head. "She needs me, Em. I wasn't there when Mom died, I can't leave her to deal with—" The words caught in his throat. He still couldn't believe it; even now, the memory still echoed in his head, like a nightmare he was still waiting to wake up from:

"Neal Cassidy?"

"Yeah, that's me. I was told to call here for my sister, Ruby?"

The sound of flipping papers; then the slightly confused: "Mmm….I don't see a 'Ruby Cassidy' on the roster anywhere."

"No, you wouldn't," he said, silently cursing himself. "She's Ruby Gold. I go by my mom's name, but she still uses my dad's." Between the two of them, she was the only one still speaking to him: Neal had given up on tying to salvage a relationship with the bastard years ago.

"Ruby Gold… Oh, here she is. Room 224."

"224?" he frowned. "What ward is that?"

"Psychiatric care." The receptionist paused. "Your sister has a history of emotional instability, doesn't she?"

"Yeah," Neal said, starting to feel nervous. "What happened?Is she okay?"

"Her injuries have been contained, but given the circumstances, Dr. Hopper thinks it's best to keep her for suicide watch."

"Suicide watch?" he repeated. Emma looked up from the stove, a concerned frown on her face. Neal rubbed his eyes with his free hand, shaking his head as Emma came over. "Wh-what do you mean, suicide watch?"

"Her roommate found her in the dorm room with her wrists—"

Neal handed Emma the phone, feeling nausea overwhelm him. He sank to a seat on steps, holding his head in his hands, while Emma continued to speak to the receptionist.

Ruby…Oh, God, why did she do these things? Why didn't she just call him? How many times was she going to scare him like this? His heart was going a hundred miles a minute right now, blood pounding to the tips of his fingers; he couldn't breathe, couldn't think—

"Dad?" A small hand touched his neck, making him look up: Henry looked down at him with troubled eyes, more solemnity in his face than an eight-year-old should be capable of.

Neal tried to smile at him. "Hey, buddy," he said, picking him up to put him on his knee. He nodded at Henry's hands, which were clasped around an action figure. "Whatcha got there?"

"Is Aunt Ruby okay?" Henry asked, ignoring the question. "You sounded scared."

"She's…" Neal looked at his son, trying to find an easy way to explain to him what was going on. "She's having a rough time right now, but she's got some good people taking care of her."

"Neal," Emma said suddenly. Neal and Henry turned around to see her with the phone to her ear, looking grim.

"What is it?" Neal said, as Henry slid off his knee so he could take the phone from Emma. She kept her eyes on him as she handed it over, the sympathetic heartbreak in her face sending a wave of anxiety over him.

I'm so sorry, she mouthed. Neal's heart sped up again.

"Hello?" he croaked into the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Cassidy." A different voice—a man's, gentle and sympathetic—sighed into the phone. "My name is Archibald Hopper. I'm working on your sister's case."

"What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"Ruby's in good hands, for the present time." There was a careful pause. "Mr. Cassidy, do you know the circumstances behind your sister's hospitalization?"

"She hurt herself again."

"Yes, but… what I meant was, do you know what prompted her to self-harm?"

"…College stuff? I don't know, she's a kid, she doesn't deal with things well."

Hopper sighed again."Are you aware that your father had a heart condition?"

"What?" Neal frowned, giving his head a little shake. "What does he have to do with this? I thought this was about Ruby."

"It is." Hopper seemed to be bracing himself. "I'm so sorry…Your father passed away, two days ago…"

He lowered the phone, even as Hopper jabbered on about "…tried to find contact information…", staring straight ahead. Your father passed away, two days ago…How could he be gone? The last words he'd said to him had been… what were they? He couldn't even remember.

"Neal," Emma's voice prodded gently. "Neal?"

"Neal?"

Neal blinked, pulled back to the present by the sound of her voice. "Yeah, sorry—got lost, for a minute there."

"Are you okay?" she frowned concernedly, turning him around to study him. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Really, I'm—"

"You don't seem fine."

"Emma." Neal lifted his eyes, looking at her intently. Just drop it, please just drop it.

Emma bit her lip, but she heard his silent plea. "Okay," she sighed, sliding her hands off her shoulders. "I'm going to go check on Henry."

Neal smiled faintly as she kissed his cheek, nodding a Goodbye after her. He listened to her boots start up the steps, her voice calling for their son. Knowing Henry, he was probably poking around the attic, looking for old telephones or typewriters: he loved studying things like that.

His phone buzzed inside his jacket pocket. Oh, God, what is it now? he thought, recognizing Dr. Hopper's number flash on screen. "Hello?"

"Neal, hi."

Over the past few weeks, Hopper had called him at least twice a day, updating him on Ruby's progress. Only recently had he declared Ruby well enough to discharge her from the ward (though, she was still enrolled in outpatient therapy). That was why Neal was back here, in the first place: she still needed someone to look after her, and now that Roman was gone, Neal was all she had. "Besides," Emma had said, after he ventured the idea to move back home to her. "The city isn't really a good place to raise a kid."

Ruby'd been doing better, but he still couldn't help feeling nervous every time he got a phone call from Hopper. Neal sighed, running a hand through his hair. "How is she?" he asked.

"Ruby's fine." He could hear the smile in Hopper's voice. "She's all excited to see you, she's had her bags packed since yesterday morning."

He laughed softly at that. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was just calling to remind you that you'll need to make sure you grab her prescription before you leave, in case I don't see you."

Neal nodded. "Will do."

"Now—" Hopper shifted some papers over the line—"your wife and son came up with you, correct?"

"That's right," Neal said, glancing upstairs as their footsteps moved around.

"And how are they taking it, if I may ask?"

"A lot better than me," he smiled bitterly. "Emma thinks it'll be good for Henry, to get away from the city."

"She may be right," Hopper said. "What about Henry?"

"Oh, you know…" Neal exhaled. "He's not thrilled about leaving his school, but he's happy that he gets to live with Aunt Ruby. Normally, he only gets to see her a few times a year, so it'll be nice for them to spend some quality time together." He paused. "I like to think that it'll do her some good, having him close by."

"I think you're right," Hopper agreed. "He might provide some perspective for her. Remind her that she's got people depending on her to get well. If there's one thing I've learned about your sister over the past weeks, it's that she cares more about others than herself. Too much, actually," he added with a sigh.

"Can't argue with that."

"Just, uh…" Hopper paused, searching for the proper phrasing. "Be …careful, handling Henry's understanding of Ruby's problems. I don't know how much she'd want him to know about everything."

"He's eight years old, I'm not going to talk to him about this," Neal said, shaking his head.

"That may be for the best." Hopper shifted a few more papers. "All right, Neal, I'll let you go. I only wanted to touch base with you before she's discharged. Don't hesitate to call, if you have any questions or concerns."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dr. Hopper."

"And Neal?"

"Hmm?"

Hopper's voice was warm and comforting, more a friend now than doctor. "I know you think otherwise, but you are a good brother. Ruby doesn't blame you, for any of it. I hope you know that."

Neal smiled halfheartedly. He wanted to believe that, more than anything; but nine years' worth of guilt and separation made it impossible. "Thanks, doc," he repeated. "Tell her I'll be there in an hour, to take her home."

"Henry?" Emma drifted down the hallway, poking her head in every room. "Henry, where are you?"

She could understand why Neal hated being back here. It was a creepy house…with a lot of bad memories attached. She shook her head against the images that threatened the edges of her mind: she'd only been here once before, but that had been plenty. The things Roman Gold had said…Not even to her, he'd refused to acknowledge her presence; but about her, right in front of her?

"Henry?" she repeated, raising her voice to pull herself back to reality. "Henry, come on!"

A small scuffle came from a few doors down. Emma exhaled in relief, and moved down the hall, ignoring the floorboards creaking in protest under her boots.

She found him kneeling on the floor, bent over a box of some sort. There was a mess of small objects scattered around him: little gears and springs, a few baseballs cards… Emma frowned, leaning against the doorway with folded arms.

"Henry, I've been calling you," she said. "Come on, we gotta go get your Aunt Ruby."

"'Kay…" he said distractedly, making no moves to get up.

"Henry."

"Just give me a second," he mumbled. Emma raised her eyes to the ceiling, letting out a tense breath.

"Look, you'll have plenty of time to play later," she said. "But we gotta go now. Ruby's waiting for us."

Henry exhaled, and obediently set the box down. Emma half-smiled, holding out her hand for him to take as he passed her. Henry folded his small hand within hers, keeping his head down as they walked down the hall. Emma glanced down at the top of his head, and bumped him with her elbow.

"So, what do you think?" she asked. "You like the house so far?"

Henry shrugged. "It's okay," he said. "I didn't really look around that much."

"You seemed to be pretty interested in that box back there," Emma remarked.

"I like keys," was all he said. He stuffed his other hand in his pocket, and lifted his head, raising his eyebrows. "Where's Dad?"

"Downstairs. Waiting."

Henry's brow twitched concernedly."Is he okay?"

"He's fine, Henry," Emma said, looking away from him. She actually wasn't sure how "fine" Neal was, but she didn't want to worry Henry. He was already much too serious for an eight-year-old, she didn't want to throw more anxiety on him.

"He doesn't like this house, does he?"

"No, he—he's just worried about Aunt Ruby," she sighed. "She's been really sad lately."

"I know." Henry sounded solemn. "She's always sad."

"Not around you," Emma said, trying to get a smile out of him. "She'll be really happy to see you."

Henry's eyes turned hopeful. "She will?"

"Oh, yeah," she assured him. "She loves hanging out with you, you know that."

Henry smiled at that. He barely knew Ruby—only saw her a handful of times a year—but Emma knew how much he cared about her. "Does she still work at the chocolate milkshake place?" he asked as they thumped down the stairs.

"Granny's? I don't know, we'll have to ask her." Emma dropped to the last step and turned, waiting for him to jump the last two. "Careful—"

The floorboards rattled under his feet, loud enough to alert Neal to their presence: he emerged from the other room, looking at them with raised eyebrows. "Hey, there you are," he said. "You ready to go?"

"I think so," Emma said. "I think we might have to swing by the chocolate milkshake place, on the way back." She bumped Henry with her hip, who looked at Neal with pleading eyes. Please, please, please, please, please?

"We'll see," Neal winked. "All right—go get in the car."

"'Kay." Henry released Emma's hand and scampered out the door, excited by the prospect of chocolate milkshakes. Emma folded her arms, drifting closer to Neal as they watched him go.

"Feeling nervous?" she asked softly.

"It's just being back here," he sighed. "Lots of memories."

"Bad memories?"

"There's a few good ones." Neal looked around the room with haunted eyes. "But not enough."

Emma unfolded one arm to take his hand. "We'll make some good memories of our own," she promised. "We can be happy here."

Neal half-smiled, drawing her closer to drape his arm around her; pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "I hope so," he murmured into her hair. "I really hope so."'