TITLE: It Just Was
AUTHOR: Krissy
DISCLAIMER: Everwood belongs to people at the WB.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hellllllo, angst! I am utterly fascinated by the Ephram and Andy relationship. I can relate so much to Ephram. His screaming matches he had with Andy at the beginning? I've had so many similar ones. It's never easy, never, and I'm glad Ephram is realizing it isn't all bad. Although, Andy isn't a bad guy, so we all know it is two sided. But anyway, I swear, the father/son relationship is one of the highlights of the show. Treat and Gregory are such awesome actors.
SPOILERS: For November 4th's episode, Till Death Do Us Part
PAIRING: Ephram/Amy mentions, Andy/Julia mentions
RATING: PG
ARCHIVE: Please just ask me. :D
"Do you want to talk about it, Ephram?"
Ephram didn't look up at the sound of his father's voice. He wanted to be alone. To sit in his bedroom and sulk in his misery.
It was his own fault, that much he knew.
But it didn't make it hurt any less.
All he could picture was the way Amy looked when the kiss ended. Her eyes? He hoped he never had to see her that way again. But he knew he would.
"Go away," he snapped. It was too harsh, Ephram noticed that right away, and blanched on the inside. He'd been trying to be careful since that night in the hospital. Those few days had been an eye-opener. He'd seen this whole new side of his father. He liked that side. Ephram could relate to Andy's fears and hopes, and it was just so awful and true and real and Ephram was glad to see this side, but it didn't make up for all those years of missed holidays and vacations and little moments.
"I'd like to, Ephram," Andy gave his son a small smile, "but I can't. We're going to talk," he said sternly, "and I mean really talk."
"I don't have anything to say to you."
"Okay. Fine," Andy sighed, a bit impatiently. "I'll go first."
"Whatever," Ephram didn't look at him. He couldn't try right now. Not today. Not after yesterday, when he... Or after today, when Amy had ignored him like the plague.
He'd never get to be 'Ham' again. He'd never get to be the 'best friend' again. He probably would never get to be 'friend' at all. A part of him was relieved. It meant he wouldn't have to second guess her feelings for him. It meant he wouldn't have to hide his own feelings. Now he could just wallow in self-pity and doubt and wonder if things would have been different if he'd waited, or if they'd be just the same if he hadn't. No matter, in the long run, Amy'd be just as happy because Colin was awake and they'd be together again in no time.
"I miss her."
The statement startled Ephram from his thoughts. He turned unblinking eyes to his father and stared.
"What?" He felt his face warm at his voice. He nearly squeaked. Smooth, Ephram, smooth, he thought sourly.
"Julia. Your mother." Andy's eyes were far away, but they glowed. It was one of the first times he'd ever let himself just *feel.* "I miss her smile, her laugh, the way her cheeks would redden when I'd bring her a rose. That wasn't often," he granted, "but sometimes..."
"She loved roses," Ephram acknowledged, nodding in agreement. "I remember when I was seven. You brought her a dozen yellow flowers and she accused you of thinking she was boring. Because they weren't red ones."
Andy laughed, "Yes. She thought it was a sign that she was growing old so she got her hair cut and dyed it blue. 'To be less of an old woman,' she said. I never saw her as excited as she was when the dye finally faded away a week later. We had good times, Ephram," his father said, "don't you remember?"
"I remember more nights of lying awake and wondering when my dad would get home, than happy times," Ephram retorted. He stared stonily out his bedroom window. It was too dark to see anything but the blueness of the sky. It wasn't pitch black yet, but getting there.
Andy sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry--"
"Sorry doesn't change it!" Ephram spat, nearly screaming his words. "Don't you get it?! I can't forget, okay? What if I did, and then it happened all over again? It nearly did, remember! So wrapped up in the free patients that you forgot you have two kids that need you here!"
"You need me?"
It was spoken so soft that Ephram thought he missed it. But he heard it, and choked back an angry sob, and nodded. "YES! God, you're my *father*! I *love* you. You're a part of me, even though I sometimes don't want you to be! You think it's easy to hate you? Or to be reminded constantly of the fact you left us for people you didn't even know?!"
"Ephram," Andy interrupted, "it wasn't like that. I had to help them. They needed me."
"I needed you more!" Ephram protested, eyes widening at disbelief at Andy's words, "I need you more than they did. Do you know what it was like to receive thank you notes from complete strangers, telling us how you're one of the greatest men in the world and how lucky we were to have you? Do you *know* how hard that was?! Now all I hear is *this* town singing your praises because you're Mr. Miracle Man. Or now, to see Delia so happy and glad, because you're around, but always at work? She doesn't remember it all. She doesn't remember *all* the nights of sitting alone and wondering why you couldn't take us to a baseball game, or go camping, or give us advice, or recommend the best dating spots, like other fathers. She had mom for that if she needed anything, not that she needed much. What did I have? Broken promises and countless assurances that it will be better next time."
Andy didn't know what to say. He didn't know a single thing he could say that would make any difference. No matter how many magazines he'd been published in, no matter how many talks he had with anyone... None of it would give him the words Ephram wanted to hear.
So he did the only thing he did know how to do.
He hugged him.
Ephram stiffened at the contact, but slowly slid his own arms around him, hugging back.
"I'm sorry," Ephram whispered. He broke the embrace and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. His eyes spun with mixed emotions, ones Andy could read as his own, because they were.
Fear. Acknowledgement. Love. Undeniable sadness. Confusion.
Where did they go from here?
"We'll talk after dinner," Andy said, standing. He pressed a hand onto Ephram's shoulder, and squeezed gently.
"Only if we have pizza," Ephram shrugged. Andy sighed, but nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Alright. But just pepperoni this time."
Ephram smiled. It was a real smile, full of excitement, and hope and longing, and just the touch of uncertainty.
It was a start.
It was a beginning.
It was just a moment of countless trials that were sure to bring pain and misery, along with only fractions of happiness.
Love never asked when.
It didn't need to.
It just was.
END
AUTHOR: Krissy
DISCLAIMER: Everwood belongs to people at the WB.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hellllllo, angst! I am utterly fascinated by the Ephram and Andy relationship. I can relate so much to Ephram. His screaming matches he had with Andy at the beginning? I've had so many similar ones. It's never easy, never, and I'm glad Ephram is realizing it isn't all bad. Although, Andy isn't a bad guy, so we all know it is two sided. But anyway, I swear, the father/son relationship is one of the highlights of the show. Treat and Gregory are such awesome actors.
SPOILERS: For November 4th's episode, Till Death Do Us Part
PAIRING: Ephram/Amy mentions, Andy/Julia mentions
RATING: PG
ARCHIVE: Please just ask me. :D
"Do you want to talk about it, Ephram?"
Ephram didn't look up at the sound of his father's voice. He wanted to be alone. To sit in his bedroom and sulk in his misery.
It was his own fault, that much he knew.
But it didn't make it hurt any less.
All he could picture was the way Amy looked when the kiss ended. Her eyes? He hoped he never had to see her that way again. But he knew he would.
"Go away," he snapped. It was too harsh, Ephram noticed that right away, and blanched on the inside. He'd been trying to be careful since that night in the hospital. Those few days had been an eye-opener. He'd seen this whole new side of his father. He liked that side. Ephram could relate to Andy's fears and hopes, and it was just so awful and true and real and Ephram was glad to see this side, but it didn't make up for all those years of missed holidays and vacations and little moments.
"I'd like to, Ephram," Andy gave his son a small smile, "but I can't. We're going to talk," he said sternly, "and I mean really talk."
"I don't have anything to say to you."
"Okay. Fine," Andy sighed, a bit impatiently. "I'll go first."
"Whatever," Ephram didn't look at him. He couldn't try right now. Not today. Not after yesterday, when he... Or after today, when Amy had ignored him like the plague.
He'd never get to be 'Ham' again. He'd never get to be the 'best friend' again. He probably would never get to be 'friend' at all. A part of him was relieved. It meant he wouldn't have to second guess her feelings for him. It meant he wouldn't have to hide his own feelings. Now he could just wallow in self-pity and doubt and wonder if things would have been different if he'd waited, or if they'd be just the same if he hadn't. No matter, in the long run, Amy'd be just as happy because Colin was awake and they'd be together again in no time.
"I miss her."
The statement startled Ephram from his thoughts. He turned unblinking eyes to his father and stared.
"What?" He felt his face warm at his voice. He nearly squeaked. Smooth, Ephram, smooth, he thought sourly.
"Julia. Your mother." Andy's eyes were far away, but they glowed. It was one of the first times he'd ever let himself just *feel.* "I miss her smile, her laugh, the way her cheeks would redden when I'd bring her a rose. That wasn't often," he granted, "but sometimes..."
"She loved roses," Ephram acknowledged, nodding in agreement. "I remember when I was seven. You brought her a dozen yellow flowers and she accused you of thinking she was boring. Because they weren't red ones."
Andy laughed, "Yes. She thought it was a sign that she was growing old so she got her hair cut and dyed it blue. 'To be less of an old woman,' she said. I never saw her as excited as she was when the dye finally faded away a week later. We had good times, Ephram," his father said, "don't you remember?"
"I remember more nights of lying awake and wondering when my dad would get home, than happy times," Ephram retorted. He stared stonily out his bedroom window. It was too dark to see anything but the blueness of the sky. It wasn't pitch black yet, but getting there.
Andy sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry--"
"Sorry doesn't change it!" Ephram spat, nearly screaming his words. "Don't you get it?! I can't forget, okay? What if I did, and then it happened all over again? It nearly did, remember! So wrapped up in the free patients that you forgot you have two kids that need you here!"
"You need me?"
It was spoken so soft that Ephram thought he missed it. But he heard it, and choked back an angry sob, and nodded. "YES! God, you're my *father*! I *love* you. You're a part of me, even though I sometimes don't want you to be! You think it's easy to hate you? Or to be reminded constantly of the fact you left us for people you didn't even know?!"
"Ephram," Andy interrupted, "it wasn't like that. I had to help them. They needed me."
"I needed you more!" Ephram protested, eyes widening at disbelief at Andy's words, "I need you more than they did. Do you know what it was like to receive thank you notes from complete strangers, telling us how you're one of the greatest men in the world and how lucky we were to have you? Do you *know* how hard that was?! Now all I hear is *this* town singing your praises because you're Mr. Miracle Man. Or now, to see Delia so happy and glad, because you're around, but always at work? She doesn't remember it all. She doesn't remember *all* the nights of sitting alone and wondering why you couldn't take us to a baseball game, or go camping, or give us advice, or recommend the best dating spots, like other fathers. She had mom for that if she needed anything, not that she needed much. What did I have? Broken promises and countless assurances that it will be better next time."
Andy didn't know what to say. He didn't know a single thing he could say that would make any difference. No matter how many magazines he'd been published in, no matter how many talks he had with anyone... None of it would give him the words Ephram wanted to hear.
So he did the only thing he did know how to do.
He hugged him.
Ephram stiffened at the contact, but slowly slid his own arms around him, hugging back.
"I'm sorry," Ephram whispered. He broke the embrace and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. His eyes spun with mixed emotions, ones Andy could read as his own, because they were.
Fear. Acknowledgement. Love. Undeniable sadness. Confusion.
Where did they go from here?
"We'll talk after dinner," Andy said, standing. He pressed a hand onto Ephram's shoulder, and squeezed gently.
"Only if we have pizza," Ephram shrugged. Andy sighed, but nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Alright. But just pepperoni this time."
Ephram smiled. It was a real smile, full of excitement, and hope and longing, and just the touch of uncertainty.
It was a start.
It was a beginning.
It was just a moment of countless trials that were sure to bring pain and misery, along with only fractions of happiness.
Love never asked when.
It didn't need to.
It just was.
END