Pitch was not naive enough to assume that he 'knew' someone simply because he was in a romantic relationship with them. He'd been alive on Earth long enough to know that there were plenty of people out there who could form relationships and keep them stable for years only to have been discovered as a serial killer.

Even knowing that, however, he couldn't help but be confident that he'd soon have a very critical and overly comprehensive Jack – perhaps a more investigative version of 'Mary-mode' Jack – greeting him with questions and curious half-glances. He couldn't grow to have a fear at this occurring; Jack being disquieted by the revelation that Pitch, of all the people in his life, once too had an addiction, was an absolute assurance. He was more frightened that he wouldn't get the chance to explain before Jack jumped the conclusions and assumed things, he wanted to help Jack understand before he judged.

But when he came to a stop and gave the house a long look, only to see Jack staring back at him through shrouded eyes, fear came crawling back into him and he left his own vehicle in record time, tripping over the side-walk as he exited.

"I'll head inside and get him Sanderson, I think I have a bit of explaining to do..." He huffed, picked himself up and prepared to throw himself to the mercy of Jack's overly presumptuous mind.

Sanderson gave him a snide snicker and nodded. Pitch didn't even want to know what the other pulled out of that sentence and instead rapidly made his way up to the steps – as he ascended Jack's face disappeared from view and the curtains closed. He went to knock, more out of respect for tradition then out of announcement of his arrival, but before he could the door swung open wide...and William greeted him with a broad and hospitable grin that brought a familiar level of both nausea and concern to his stomach.

"Well hello there again Pitch." Cheery, bright and delightful like a suburban forties father stereotype, William had a toothy grin, a strangely out of place gray and plaid cardigan and a bounce about him that Pitch couldn't remember seeing on anyone but Katherine. Right besides him stood Jack whose face told an entirely different story of 'What is everyone smoking?' while his hair with playfully mused by his father in a 'I'm proud of you son' manner.

It was so perturbing it caught both him and Jack completely off guard. It was like looking into a 'what could have been' moment, like over the phone they'd accidentally said some type of cosmic phrase and slipped into the twilight zone without realizing. Only after William gave Pitch a curious look of 'What's wrong' did he realize that yes, this was a thing he was baring witness to; William being an inquisitive and present father...so far at least.

"Um, hello William. I came over to pick up Jack and take him to a private session." Pitch said, only expanding on what 'private meeting' meant after William's eyebrows perked up in interest. "It's going to be us somewhat interviewing and studying from a professional psychologist, watching and participating in a session or two." He quickly lied. He didn't even know if they were going to towards the office – Sanderson didn't have the time or reason to tell him and he didn't need to: if it was important enough that Sanderson came to get him instead of faxing or mailing him, he wouldn't be here.

"Oh, really? Jack was just telling me he had the day off from school. Something about stress?" In William voice was a ghostly whisper of suspicion and doubt, Pitch was more frightened of the fact that it existed rather than being revealed as a liar.

"They gave him the next two days off to come study so he wouldn't get over stressed. His grades are good enough that he was able to get out – at least that's what I think. My teachers did the same to me when I was in high school."He mulled over the small details of the lie and shrugged to add emphasis, secretly pleased to see William's expression turn over into one of belief as he lifted his hand from Jack's head and nodded.

"It's early but I guess its okay since you're building towards your future." William said, looking down at Jack who glanced back up with wide eyed amazement – more appalled to see a sober William then anything. "Make sure you get home at a reasonable time. We need to have a good long talk about some stuff okay kiddo?"

William raised his hand to give Jack another hair rub and before he could make contact Jack visibly twitched away, eyes breaking into fear. Pitch could see the hurt flashing in William's eyes, the regret and self-turned anger that lurked in him.

Guilt, it appeared, did not haunt Pitch alone.

"Well I should probably get going." Jack said, fidgeting and trying his best not to look his father in the eye, knowing that might trigger further awkward 'bonding' time. He quickly stormed off to the door, his father's last words to him being a quiet, unheard 'Have a nice day...'.

Jack stormed outside, counting every step that helped him get further away from the now 'Topsy-turvey' house a blessing in disguise. Pitch was the lying addict and his father, of all people, was now trying to bond with him and become a sober and active parental figure in his life.

Despite not being sure he would be able to spend any time with Pitch in his current state of mind, he made a rapid beeline for the black, sleek and familiar vehicle, not bothering to voice a word of welcome or worry to his older boyfriend who followed behind him, just as bewildered as he.

"All of a sudden he comes downstairs – from my room – and started talking to me like I should know what he's talking about." Jack whispered as he opened the car door wide, shoved himself in and slammed it next to him, no patience for being careful.

Pitch quickly entered the driver's seat, buckling up his seat-belt and throwing another baffled glance Jack's way. "Why?" If there was anything that Pitch couldn't see William as, it was as an involved and caring parent, but if what Jack was saying and what he saw was anything to go by that was exactly what he was trying to become...not that it was working very well thus far.

"I don't know but it freaked me the fuck out." He mumbled as he stared out the window, watching in shock and horror as William waved him goodbye from the opened door, he considered actually waving back but felt like something horrifying would occur if he did. So he watched as the bright, eye-catching yellow car ahead of them began to move and soon after, so did theirs.

"I can tell, your eyes look like saucers." Pitch noted, taking one last rapid glance towards Jack and making sure he was properly buckled in for the ride. "Can't help but be weirded out by that though...has he done it before?"

"The 'attempting to be supportive' stuff? Yeah, but never to the point where you couldn't smell alcohol on him." Jack gazed into the back window, making sure that his father really was getting further away from him. He wasn't going to lie to himself or anyone else, he would love a kind, supportive and friendly William. Looking back at his own childhood, he figured he could use it in his life, but to see it so suddenly come back into his life even when it could be a 'sober week', gave him pause.

"That's a bit frightening." Pitch said, not wanting to expand on whether it was frightening because William was trying harder this time, putting more effort behind his own recovery meaning that if he failed he could enter a worse emotional and addictive state then before or the fact that Jack could remember smelling alcohol on his father whenever he attempted to make good on his promises to care for the family.

"Tell me about it. I nearly hit the ceiling when he touched me the first time...felt all weird and creepy – as gross as that sounds." Jack was shivering in the back seat, wiping his hands together and then dragging them across the upholstery of the car as if removing slime from his skin.

"I know how you feel." Pitch shuddered silently in his seat, flashing back to some of his own abusive or creepy in retrospect relationships, he couldn't even count the amount of times where his survival instincts and common sense had been dulled due to alcohol or due to feeling absolutely pathetic about himself as a human being. He was sure that Jack's own terror didn't come with William attempting to touch him sexually – that certainly hadn't occurred – but the sensation of feeling sticky and grossed out by another person's touch rung familiar to him. He silently extended his sympathy to a disgusted Jack.

"So, where are we headed to?" Jack stopped rubbing his hands against the car seat in favor of using his pants, figuring it to be rude to do otherwise. "Or has Sanderson not told you yet?"

"Oh, right..." He realized that his boss and Jack still had yet to meet face to face and, in a moment of both agony and revelation he stared into the back window of the sunflower colored vehicle in front of him with vehemence.

Sanderson often took it upon himself to privately 'test' the emotional durability his partners, meaning that this meeting was going to go one of two ways...Sanderson would insult him until he cried or Pitch would successfully occupy enough of his time so that he could get Jack and him away without leaving the two alone in a room together.

"Look Jack, do me a favor for today and try not to get caught in a room alone with him. We're heading in the general direction of the office so, I'm guessing he wants to reinstate me for work and things of such a nature. It appears that you're stuck with me for the day I'm afraid." A sent the younger man a playful grin that wasn't reciprocated. Lightening the mood, it seemed, was not a possibility.

Luckily enough, they were a few sparse blocks from the office. Pitch could feel the growing, half-feigned hatred dripping from Sanderson's car – although, in the shorter man's defense that could have just been his own misplaced hatred of the car itself.

"Why? Is he dangerous or something?" He could sense the smaller threads of information being knit together in the younger man's mind. The truth of the matter was that the question wasn't whether or not Sanderson was an unsafe person to be around – the question was if he was intimately linked to whatever Pitch was previously dependent on.

Pitch coiled his tongue and sucked on it, trapping it in-between his teeth as he did – thinking of which words from his repertoire he could cherry pick and use to not give Jack the wrong impression. "Not dangerous but aggressively defensive of me."

"Like...stalker level defensive?"

It wasn't difficult to see where Jack was going with this, where he was leading the both of them. Despite both the clear lack of power he held over them and the complete denial of sexual feelings from Jack, Jamie was still an active and present presence in their lives even when he was no longer in the room tormenting them both, playing with and scraping against the cords of Jack's heart like a bow against violin strings.

'Oh. Great.' The shrink swallowed and tried to make sure his following words would be rational, fair and wouldn't lead to more guilt. "Look, Jack...I think your beginning to just...make connections where there are none."

"We've stopped."

Pitch looked forward in shock, unsure of when that even came to be. Sanderson was standing impatiently right next to his car, tapping his foot and repeatedly clearing his throat while Jack kept a blank face in the backseat, almost as impatient but not revealing it just yet.

In truth, Jack was a seething, pent up bottle of rage, impatience, anger and a deep, throbbing want to know. What was Pitch's addiction – he couldn't be kept away from information so precious and not be driven wild from the lack of knowing. The worst part was that with every last second that passed as they made their way to and into the office he felt as if Pitch was somehow stalling his ass off with every last fiber of his body.

Which made sense because, secretly, he was.

–

By the time they both made it out of the car and began their assent up the office steps behind Sanderson, who Jack couldn't help but laugh at when he was confident the man wasn't looking, Pitch was sure that the entire thing was behind them. He believed this was a good thing because he despised talking about the less then happy parts of his past with Jack, whom he intended to spend the rest of his future with.

Jack on the other hand was admiring the scenery – or the distinct lack of such – from his own position next to Pitch. He'd never been in a therapist's office before and he was curious as to what the place was like...he imagined there would be more chairs, frankly.

After a short turn that reminded Pitch of how truly quiet him and his party were, Sanderson stopped short mere feet from Pitch's room, typing a message only he could see.

"What's up?" Jack inquired, hands nervously fingering the hem of his pants, once again he felt as if he was in someone else's home and couldn't touch or glance at anything for too long.

'Hey faggot.' The phone screen shined brightly in the dim hush of the hallway, Pitch almost wanted to scream – this would be where it began, wouldn't it? He glanced to Jack and nearly interjected, trying to repair the damage before it sunk in...

"Hey tiny-tiny world." Jack scoffed, keeping an unusual level of cool considering their previous conversation and the words that were went to come. He even began restfully chuckling to himself, keeping his hands in pockets and eyes unfocused. Pitch stepped back and raised his hands to Sanderson in mock surrender, unsure of where the entire meeting would lead.

'You taking dick from the brooding onyx statue?' Sanderson's face was an unreadable mirage.

"Depends," Jack took a short pause to stretch and glare down at the little man holding the screen so he could think of something good enough to finish this 'competition' of theirs. "You giving head to papa smurf?"

Sanderson's eyes narrowed in shock, hearing the words. There were very few people who had the balls to both insult his sexuality and his height and got away with it. Behind Jack Pitch was mere moments from stepping in and becoming a human barricade – the man was after all, vertically challenged but that in no way, shape or form meant that he was weak.

And then, he calmed himself, released a long, hard laugh, typing something else out on his screen while repeating quietly 'papa smurf, really?'.

'...You pass.' It read and Jack chuckled, still playing it cool but feeling like an entire ton of solid weight had crashed off his back.

"Damn right I do, now get the fuck out before I punt you like a baby seal." Jack nudged his head to the opposite direction down the hall and smiled to a frightened and confounded Pitch, who gazed at him as if he'd just solidified the rings around Saturn with a single word. "We have a meeting, don't we Doctor Pitch?"

Sanderson smiled wide and threw the keys in Pitch's face as he passed, chuckling under his breath at the new revelation he received.

"...Ah! Right, meetings. Y-yes..." Pitch rushed ahead of him, extracting his keys before rushing inside and preparing the room. Later on, he decided, he'd have to ask how the hell Jack did that.

–