Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They are owned by the WB Network and the ingenious producer(s) of Everwood.

Author's Note: If you have time, please take the time to post constructive reviews for me so I can better approach the 2nd chapter. Negative or positive, I just hope you can provide some critical information such as: a) what worked well; b) what did not work well; c) what could be improved; d) your favorite/well-liked section/phrase in chapter, and why.

I hope you will take the time to review, and I hope you Enjoy!

-roverjj

Chapter 1

A bird whistled softly outside, its soft chirps floating through the air almost effortlessly. The cool breeze, no longer the harsh wintry blasts that had so long encompassed the area, rustled the leaves gently. Tinged with the knowledge of the upcoming summer, activity was bound to begin later that day. But for now, it was just silence- everyone was well asleep by now, hoarding their much sought-after sleep which was stolen during the many hours spent digging themselves and their neighbors out of the snow that had left them stranded in their house just days before.

So they needed the sleep. And they were getting it. All of them. Except, maybe, a few.

Slam. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Andy Brown sighed and rubbed a hand through his already mussed-up hair. "I just meant that I would go there and maybe at the same time go see her at the NYU performance at Julliard; she's been talking about it for so long and I know she'd appreciate it. It was a special invitation- I couldn't possibly refuse, Ephram. I did excise a brain tumor that would've killed her in several months if not properly and carefully removed. I don't see why you're so upset, Ephram. Really. It's just a concert."

Andy's tired gaze focused on his son, vaguely disconcerted that there was no response. He pressed his eyes and blinked several times, clearing the sleep in his eyes before speaking. "Go to sleep, Ephram. Delia will stay with you, or she could stay with Nina- you could come along with me-"

"No. I'm fine. You can go; I don't care. Delia'll be fine with me." Ephram shook his head and looked back at his father with an undecipherable expression on his face. "I'm going to bed."

The sound of the door closing none too quietly did nothing to ease Andy Brown's genuinely confused mind. Turning to go back to his room, he saw Delia standing behind him. "What was the big deal?" he asked, bewildered. "I don't get it," he murmured almost to himself as he walked to his door and shut it carefully behind him.

Delia remained in the hallway after watching her father enter his room, looking at Ephram's closed door. Her heart twinged before she returned soundlessly to her room, thinking to herself,

He never gets it.

Ephram stared blankly at the ceiling from his bed. His headphones lay abandoned on the pillow next to him. He didn't notice, though. His mind was occupied, thoughts scrambling dizzyingly around; one barely making its presence before another took over. "I don't see why you're so upset....It's just a concert." He rolled over forcefully and stuffed his pillow over his head, trying to interrupt the flow of words spinning inside. "...just a concert..."

His eyes popped open as his hand reached unconsciously for the headphones. Fitting them over his head, he fumbled through the c.d. tracks, randomly searching for a song to distract himself with. The whir of the c.d. player signaled that it had settled on a song. The song drifted through his head. He froze, surprised; a tight feeling began at the back of his throat as the notes played out just as he remembered them...

Ephram pressed the stop button on the player and took off the headphones. His hand shook as he brought it back to his body. He turned off the dim light, sinking the room into complete darkness. Pulling the covers over shoulders, he shook himself mentally. It didn't matter that his father would be going to that lady's concert- he hadn't expected anything different. It was just like in New York, how he remained so involved with his patients; they were always his life. It was surprising, though. He still didn't get it, why he was upset. Then again, he had never understood, and there was no reason for him to start now. His oblivion was so complete, he couldn't even notice his own mistakes glaring him in the eye.

But he knew that it wasn't his father that had caused the still-present tightness in his throat. The reason, he would prefer not to think about. So he lay, bundled under the covers, nose running, with a pressing headache sure to give him and, consequently, those close to him a hell of a time at school the next day.