Hello, folks, and welcome to my latest story. It's my longest so far, and set shortly after Family Ties, which has joined my ever growing list of favourite episodes - if just for Roy doing those sit ups! But I'm sure I'm not the only one who felt like taking a bat to his awful mother in law.

Thankfully for her, my plot bunnies have come up with a less violent idea, that will make her see her son in law in a whole new light.

I also found it interesting that she only visits once a year. It made me wonder if Joanne finds her as difficult to live with as Roy does.

Since she's never mentioned again, I've used a bit of licence with her character, and the relief team that Joanne and the other wives of Station 51 belong to. I don't know if this happens for real, but just thought it was something they'd do.

I've included Molly from 'The Exam' episode, and there's also a quick reference to Decision - still my favourite episode so far.

Enjoy!

The Ties That Bind

The call came at 17.10. Just as Joanne had finished that night's dinner. Beef stew, with extra portions of artichoke to raise her beleaguered husband's spirits.

Roy's favourite. Which meant, of course, that her mother hated it, as her latest rant against him continued.

"...I hope you remembered I don't eat artichoke, and... look, all I'm saying is you could have done so much better. I mean, look at Eileen, and how successful Mark's been in his career, compared to... this..."

Taking one of her husband's calming breaths, Joanne had to take several more to keep her temper in check. Damn, she was tired of this. Caught in the same old crossfire between her bitter, self-obsessed mother, and the husband who deserved none of her resentment, and all of her respect.

Time after time, she put him down. Found fault in everything he did, from his choice of career, to how he supported his family. The same, constant criticism that had driven the father she'd adored into an early grave.

Well, no more. This senseless point-scoring against him had to stop, or she'd lose Roy to it too. Even his saint-like patience had its limits.

"How, mom? How could I possibly do better than marry a man who risks his life to save others?"

"...so why isn't he a doctor? Why is he still just this - this paramedic? Or wasn't he smart enough to go to medical school? Well, he never was that bright..."

Snatching up the phone, Joanne fought down another, equally familiar conflict of emotions. The sudden knot in her throat, that her mother would never understand. This call could be anything, from Roy saying he'd be late home for dinner, to the one every fireman's wife had to live with.

'Please, God. Just let him be safe.'

Furious, too, at her ignorant insensitivity, she kept her back turned to the woman who'd given her life, but who also made that life a constant misery. All that mattered to her right now was Roy, and the news report that was unfolding on the kitchen's TV.

A train crash, at the height of rush hour. Scenes of chaos and carnage, that merely hinted at the casualties involved. And even as she breathed a sigh of relief, Joanne's heart broke for all those who'd lost their lives in Roy's place. Lines of covered stretchers told their own, tragic story.

It was the crowds of walking wounded, though, that now held her attention. The first thing she'd learned about being a fireman's wife was the role that bound them together. Headed by Beth Stanley, they didn't stand by and watch when such disasters happened, they pitched in and helped.

"Hi, Beth? Yeah, just seeing it now, and... yes, I'd say they will. On scene, right? Okay, I'll ask Allie to pick up the kids, then I'll pick up Kathy, and meet you there. And you'll pick up Molly? Okay, Beth, see you there. Bye."

She'd barely replaced the receiver before her mother's disapproval erupted once more.

"You're going down there? Oh, for God's sake, Joanne! What use can you possibly be there? And who's this Allie? If you're really going to do this ridiculous thing, at the very least they should stay here with me!"

Turning towards her, Joanne fixed her mother with the glare that not even Roy dared to defy. For once, it silenced her mother too. And in this peaceful quiet, an idea began to form, that she wished she'd had before now.

"Because, mother, this is what we do. Instead of fretting over our neighbours' business, we help where we're needed too."

Making her call with no further interruptions, Joanne grabbed her keys and strode towards the door. With everything settled, she could get to work. Be as close as she could get to Roy's side. And as for her mother - well, whether she wanted to or not, she was coming too.

"And the reason Allie's picking up the kids is because you're coming with me. You're going to see what Roy faces each time he puts on that uniform. Then maybe, just maybe, you'll start to understand."

Every disaster had its surreal contrasts of utter chaos and revering silence. Joanne didn't know which of them had ended her mother's ongoing protests. But just as Roy would have done if he'd been there, she still offered her a reassuring smile as they made their way through the crowds.

"I know, mom. The first time I saw this, it shook me up too. But like I told you before, we're perfectly safe here, working with really good people. And even if we just give out comfort to those who need it... well, that has to be more useful than just watching it all on TV... right?"

Still staring around her, Martha Davis didn't even notice how her own words had been turned against her. But as she introduced her to Beth and the rest of her relief team, Joanne could see that an age-old tide was starting to turn. Faced with tragedy in its rawest form, scorn and derision were giving way to the greater gift of simple humanity.

For the first time, she was seeing the horrors that her son in law faced. Not the life of city luxury that her other son in law enjoyed. No expensively furnished office, or three hour business lunches, or luxury holidays. No, this was hour after hour of back-breaking work, in situations that put his life at constant risk.

Not quite the 'grit 'n' graft' that her own husband had put into the farm, but enough of a connection to remind her of her roots. Yes, she'd always lauded Mark's success, and everything it had given him. But how many brokers would run into a burning building, with no thought for their own safety? How many would give their life to save that of a total stranger?

Or one of their own, she thought, glancing towards the young woman who stood beside her. For Molly Hanson, her husband had made the ultimate sacrifice. But was she bitter? Angry? Filled with self pity? No, she was here at this relief station, offering comfort to a little boy who'd been separated from his mother. And when they were reunited in a flurry of tears and hugs, her eyes had stung too.

For such a long time - too long a time - she'd forgotten how it felt to help those in more need than herself. And as the search for more victims continued, so her thoughts centred around the shy, quiet young man that every mother, or mother in law, would be proud to have.

With each hour that passed, so this new regard for him grew into the respect he'd always deserved. Concern for him too, that he was still working in such dangerous conditions. Although the fires were now out, the search teams were still having to work through hulks of burned and twisted metal. Several firemen had already been injured by falling debris, and two had been taken to hospital.

None of them had been Roy, though. For the first time she could remember, Martha felt a genuine relief that he hadn't been hurt. But from what she knew about Molly, she also knew too now how quickly that could change.

Not just for Joanne's sake now, or the kids, he had to be safe. He just had to be. Finding him, though, through all these crowds of firemen, was close to impossible. But for reasons she wished she'd felt before now, she had to try.

"And where's Roy? I - I mean, in all these coats and helmets, they all look the same."

Scanning those crowds too, Joanne smiled back at her. Yes, that tide had fully turned now. The approval she'd always wanted for him was there, for all to see. But it was Molly who voiced the pride that all of them now felt.

"Knowing Roy, he'll be the one leading the line."

As if timed by fate, Hank Stanley's voice now rose above everything else to call him to his latest rescue.

"Roy! Johnny! We've got a guy in full arrest here!"

Even with this help to identify him, Martha still couldn't tell them apart as they ran towards a still smouldering carriage. But a white coated figure that followed them was instantly recognizable. The doctor that she'd always nagged her son in law to be. A career professional, who held so much more status than a mere paramedic.

To her contrition, that's what she'd always thought. Just hours before, she'd thrown scorn on his ability to do so. Well, now she'd see how much that had changed. Now she'd see them working together, using all the skills they had to bring their patient back to life.

As they carried him clear, she watched in horror as the carriage they'd just left exploded, hurling all three to the ground. As her arm tightened instinctively around her daughter, so Joanne's did the same around her. For both of them, that had been terrifyingly close.

But then the helmet came off, revealing a mop of rusty blond hair. With a clear view of him now, though too far away to hear what he was saying, she watched him set to work. Not under that doctor's direction, either, but from his own training and skill.

This was her son in law. The senior paramedic, taking charge. In both pride and the quirks of human curiosity, it was a compelling sight.

Still unaware of her presence, none of that mattered to Roy. Even if he had been, he'd have ignored her anyway. Right now, his focus was solely on the patient in front of him.

His name was Corey. Just married, setting off with his wife on their honeymoon. As he set the defibrillator to charge, Roy was determined that those pained, whispered words wouldn't be his last. Without even looking at them, he knew Johnny and Kel Brackett felt the same way.

For several minutes, they fought together, for a life that was dying in front of them. Dying too soon. Lying so still between them. So damn still.

"Charging... one... two... three... four... hit him!"

"Clear!"

"Still in V-Fib."

"Johnny, charge back to four hundred."

"One... two... three... four..."

"Clear!"

"No conversion... still in V-Fib."

"Damn it, Corey, come on!"

"Okay, epinephrine in."

"He's in flatline."

"Right, Roy, restart CPR. Atropine's in."

"Still in flatline. No respiration."

"Damn, that's nine minutes now. If he doesn't come back from this, we'll have to call it."

"We've got to keep trying, Doc, and... Johnny?"

"Sorry, Roy, still nothing."

"Ten minutes, and... okay, Roy, that's it. Stop CPR."

Then, finally, the words that every doctor, nurse, and paramedic dreaded to hear.

"Still in asystole. No activity."

"I'm sorry, Roy, he's gone. None of us can do any more."

Refusing to accept defeat, Roy carried on for several more minutes, until Kelly's hand on his shoulder told him, again, that he had to stop. Let go, and accept. Physically and mentally drained, he sat back on his heels, bracing his hands on his knees as the efforts of CPR took their toll.

For their patient, it was tragically over. Yet there was still one last duty for those who'd fought so hard to save him. And while the doctor at scene was all ready to carry it out, it was Roy who decided otherwise as he rose to his feet.

"No, Doc, I'll - I'll tell her."

What happened next was as heartbreaking as it was inevitable. Refusing to believe that her new husband was dead, Ellen Day screamed in furious denial. Slammed her fists into Roy's chest, until she collapsed into his arms.

In his own silent grief, he held her through the only comfort he could offer her. Kept his arms tightly around her, until a Red Cross volunteer came to lead her away.

Only then did his let his own emotions show, to release the bitterness of failure. It took Johnny's hand on one shoulder, and Kel's on the other, to raise his head again. Their own words of consolation to make him nod, in weary agreement.

"Come on now, Roy, don't you start beating yourself up here. Like the doc said, we couldn't do any more."

"He's right, Roy, his injuries were just too severe. Even if we'd got him to Rampart, I doubt he'd have survived there either."

For Joanne, too, it was a sobering sight to see him like this. Such losses were thankfully rare, but the first one that Roy had faced still haunted him. So yes, every part of her wanted to be there at his side. But as she explained to her mother, such natural instincts weren't always possible.

"I know, mom, but... no, not yet. We need Captain Stanley to clear the scene first. Besides, Johnny's there with him. He'll say everything that Roy needs to hear."

Ah, yes. Johnny... Gage, wasn't it? The 'brother' she'd heard so much about. Met before too. But, again so stupidly, she'd refused to know him better.

To see him now, though, resting his hands on Roy's shoulders as he tried to talk him around - yes, now she understood what her daughter had said. Brothers in all but name, theirs was a bond that, unless you were part of it, you could never understand.

After such a harrowing day, the traditional big brother protectiveness had switched around too. As the rescue operation concluded, Johnny stuck to his partner's side like a humanised limpet. Even when Hank stood them down, the worried glances towards him still continued.

Exhausted and demoralised, he needed all the comfort he could get. Not just from his partner either, but his wife too. So the sight of her striding towards them should have made him smile. Instead, to Johnny's surprise, it made him curse with unnatural anger.

"What the hell is she doing here?"

Studying the 'she' in question, Johnny now knew why Roy's face looked like a thundercloud. Yes, he'd teased him over the 'mother in law from hell.' Damn, they all had. But if she'd come here to make his life even more of a misery, in the state he was in right now - well, she'd have to get past him first.

Luckily, Joanne had sensed the storm that was about to break, and was equally determined not to let it ruin what she'd achieved. She had the perfect first move for it too - kissing him so soundly and thoroughly that even Johnny found a sudden interest in the state of his boots.

'So that's how she always wins their arguments. Wow!'

If he'd had the breath to speak, Roy might have agreed with him. Instead, he let Joanne hug away the rest of his anger, and answer the questions that lay beyond.

"I'm sorry, honey. Maybe I should have called you ahead, but... well, when Beth called, I just wanted to get down here. So did mom."

Okay, so it hadn't quite happened that way, but Martha now had the tact to keep that to herself. Whether from concession or just pure exhaustion, Roy didn't have the strength to pursue it anyway. Instead, he just stood in his wife's arms, letting her work her magic to settle him down.

Over her shoulder, he could see Johnny, still on 'stay or go' watch beside them. If faintly, it drew out a wry smile, as grateful affection mouthed out the rest.

'I'm fine, Johnny. Now get on home.'

Sensing too, that it was now safe to do so, Johnny nodded. With a quick hug for Joanne, and slightly cooler nod for her mother, he headed towards the Squad.

Watching him go, Roy relaxed more into the comfort he'd needed for the past three hours. Yeah, home sounded pretty good to him too. To a hot shower, fresh clothes, and the first decent meal he'd had all day.

Now, if he could just get his legs to move. Maybe crank his eyes open a bit, and - damn, since when had that been so hard?

Against her six foot, increasingly deadweight husband, Joanne knew she had to get moving too, before they both suffered the indignity of hitting the ground.

"Roy? Honey? Come on, baby. Let's get you out of here."

For Roy, at least, the journey home passed in a blur. One minute, he was at the crash site, the next he was stretched out on their couch. He must have showered at some point too, since his hair was still damp, and - oooh, camomile tea? Yes, after such a hard day, his lady knew him so well.

Of course, that day's events still had to be addressed. With Chris and Jenny sleeping over at their Aunt Allie's - his lady was also quite the arranger - those matters could be resolved without upsetting their still vulnerable ears.

But then, there didn't seem to be any reason to start any kind of argument. He'd calmed down now, enough to realize that something had... happened. Not just today's disaster, but the attitude of the woman who sat in front of him. Somehow - and he really didn't care why - it had completely changed.

As he'd talked everything out with Joanne, her mother had kept silent. No criticism, or her usual barbs of why he hadn't become a doctor. Even when he came to Corey Day's death, she kept her thoughts on it to herself. In this reverent quiet, it was just him, and Joanne, and this first stage of healing.

"... but Roy, you... I mean, you did your best, Roy. You couldn't have done any more."

"Yeah, I know. This time next week, I might be able to believe it."

Rubbing the lingering tiredness from his eyes, Roy then realized who'd spoken. Not Joanne this time, but the woman who'd made his life a living hell. Who now regarded him with something he'd never thought he'd see. Not just approval, but pride too, with real concern for what he'd been through.

'Damn, thank God I didn't call her 'honey'!'

Thankfully, he hadn't spoken that thought aloud. His mouth must have still opened, though, since Joanne now nudged it closed for him. And when Martha smiled at him too, he recognized this gesture for what it was. Not just a peace offering, but a full blown truce that, if still quietly, he still managed to return.

"But right now, Martha, for - for you to say that... yeah, I really appreciate it. Thank you."

"Well, it's... long overdue," Martha reminded him, studying him now with a frown that was scarily like his own mother's. "And I know you have your day off tomorrow to recover, but I really think you need to get to bed."

Another suggestion that Roy couldn't argue against. Yes, to his sore and aching body, those freshly laundered sheets would never feel so good. Once snuggled within them, though, he couldn't resist a sleep-addled attempt.

"I must be high on that tea. Did she really order me to bed? In my own house?"

If not for the glint in his eye, Joanne might have taken him seriously. But as she watched him drift into much needed sleep, an even happier smile settled on her face too.

Today was past now, its wounds already healing. And tomorrow? Well, however they spent it, they'd do so as she'd always wanted. As a family bound by love and understanding, instead of torn by hate and ignorance.