I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.

I doubt Ryan Murphy would even recognize it now.

Wherever You Are

The Distance Thing

They also made the trip back to Brandon . . .

"Good morning, darling!"

"Hey, Moms!"

"Good drive up, Patrick?"

"Yes, sir."

"Jimmy."

"Jimmy."

"Good. Now, come here and give me a hug."

"Ma-Da!"

"Darling!"

"Ma-Ba!"

"Darling!"

"Granddaddy!"

"Hey, Little Man!"

. . . every Sunday morning after a lazy and relaxed weekend breakfast.

"How're you likin' the new radio job, Annabel? You know, your moms and me, we listen to it every morning it's on."

"It's good! At least I see daylight now."

"Patrick, how you liking staying at home?"

Small, happy Daddy Patrick smile.

"I like it. I know it's not traditional or anything-"

Errant wave of shiny metal hook.

"Hey, whatever works for you guys. I miss gettin' to spend all day with this little man . . ."

Completely unintentional skewering of Sarasota's newest morning dj.

". . . so I get enjoyin' spending time with him."

"Anyway, who's in the game today, Daddy?"

"Oh, I don't know. Ya know, whoever."

Sometimes they broke bread with the Clarks.

"Patty's oldest is getting ready for high school, can you believe?"

"I'm just surprised she's not already married with a kid on the way-"

"Annabel!"

"Oh, it's alright, Patty does have a big family, doesn't she? At Christmas, I tell you, what we spend on gifts . . ."

Sometimes with Lucy.

"- Orlando?"

"Oh, it's going alright, I suppose. I actually am doing more directing of the program than hands-on now but-"

And sometimes it was . . .

"Patrick, did I ever tell ya about the time Annabel-"

Oh my god, Daddy, what are you-

. . . just the six of them.

They always hated to go.

"-when we get home, okay?"

"Alright. Be safe."

"We love you."

"Say 'bye to Granddaddy."

"'Bye, Granddaddy."

"Say 'bye to Ma-Da and Ma-Ba."

"'Bye Ma-Da and Ma-Ba."

"'Bye, baby! We love you!"

Moms would inevitably look teary-eyed.

Daddy would inevitably direct a five dollar bill into Patrick's . . .

"You don't have t-"

"Hush, son. We want to."

. . . reluctant palm.

And Annabel and Patrick would inevitably. . .

"That was a nice time."

. . . have the same conversation . . .

"Yep."

. . . they always had.

"Food was good."

Baby-not-baby-anymore Jimmy asleep in his car seat.

God, I can't believe he's almost five.

"Yep."

Scruffy Sam the Sublime next to his small charge . . .

"They seem to really happy to see The Baby."

. . . head drowsing on paws.

"Yeah."

And, of course, . . .

"And us."

. . . music on the radio.

"Yeah."

And it really, really was . . .

". . . into the danger zone . . ."

. . . okay.

"I love you, Annabel."

"I love you, Patrick."

". . . into . . . the danger zooooonnne . . ."

But life . . .

"Um, about Sunday . . ."

"What is it, darling?"

"Well, there's a thing we wanted to do, you know, as a family . . ."

"Oh. Well, alright."

Ma-Ba's voice was curiously flat and disheartened.

"I'm sorry, it's just . . ."

Pretending it wasn't.

"No, no, Annabel. Not at all."

And she felt really guilty.

"Would you like to come Saturday instead . . . or next weekend?"

But she really, really . . .

"Next weekend, I think. I've got stuff Saturday."

. . . wanted to do the thing.

"Well . . . that'll be just fine then. No problem. Your father and Bette and I will probably just stay in and relax."

Like, really.

"I like that'd be nice."

And Ma-Da said it was okay.

"Yeah. Sounds like."

So it must be.

It only took a few months.

Six, Sister.

Little Jimmy's going to forget us.

So young, of course he will.

I can't believe it's already happening.

She may as well go back to Colorado now for all we're going to see them anymore.

Don't you dare challenge her with that

Jimmy, their darling, appearing in from outside the kitchen door.

The spring in his step lessened somewhat in advancing age.

But dimpled grin . . .

"Hey girls, did you think we could have a lemon icebox pie Sunday when the kids come up?"

. . . still just as recognizable as ever.

And clueless.

Oh, Dot!

Oh, Bette!

"Oh, Jimmy!"

"How could you say something like that?!"

Jimmy taken aback as his dear darling wives buried their sobbing faces in dishcloths.

"Well, I mean, we don't . . . I'm sorry . . . I thought you liked lemon icebox pie . . ."

"Ohhh!"

The letters had started back up again.

A little before she had discovered their letter to Patrick.

Years and years without them.

Ever since they'd moved back.

She hadn't missed them.

They'd been right next door.

But now that they were farther away.

"-ly rates are just deplorable, can you imagine?"

And the advent of instant messaging and Skype was still far, far in the distant future . . .

"Yeah, it's crazy. How about Wednesday nights? Eight-thirty?"

"Sure. We'll write it on the calendar."

. . . the mailbox surprise once a week . . .

Dear Annabel,

. . . actually was a pleasant . . .

We know we only saw you Sunday . . .

. . . addition to her day.

. . . but it seems so odd to wake up in the morning and know Mrs. Farris and her feral cats are next door to us instead of you.

She read usually with a smile.

I don't think any of them are spayed.

Frequently a chuckle.

And we're afraid we're about to be overrun by miniature saber-tooth tigers . . .

And then handed them over to an interested . . .

. . . before long. God save us all.

. . . and hovering Patrick.

There was never anything in them that couldn't wait until Sunday to be discussed.

Dear Annabel,

But she figured it was the simple act of writing them . . .

Dot and Jimmy are being slowly driven mad by Mrs. Farris' horde of cats.

. . . made them feel comforted.

They don't really bother me so much . . .

And she was far enough on in her adulthood that she could appreciate . . .

. . . if only they didn't smell bad . . .

. . . the loving parents Patrick had never had.

. . . and have loud, angry sex in our hedges.

And now seemed to dote on.

We're afraid they might kill the shrubs.

"Good morning, darlings!"

"Hey, Moms!"

"Good drive up?"

"Yes."

"Ma-Da!"

"Darling!"

"Ma-Ba!"

"Darling!"

"Granddaddy!"

"Hey, Little Man!"

"Who's in the game today, Daddy?"

"Oh, I don't know. Ya know, whoever."

She knew it was a possibility.

I mean, you know, it happens.

It had certainly happened to her during the months after she and Patrick moved back from Colorado.

That being said, she had been growing a baby at the time.

Which accounted for it.

And Patrick, dear Patrick, was raising said baby.

And Moms have been giving him their treasured dessert recipes.

Still . . .

I mean, I guess it's kind of cute.

And he's still the same Patrick to me.

Even if he is past thirty now.

They say that's when your metabolism starts to slow down anyway.

Whoever they are.

"I think this shirt got shrunk in the dryer."

"Uh, yeah, Patrick, that happens sometimes."

"Will you hand me another one out of the drawer?"

I don't think that's gonna help, my little panda bear.

"Sure."

It didn't.

But it really wasn't . . .

"Maybe if I stretch it . . . no."

. . . a very big weight gain after all.

"More cheesecake, Annabel?"

"No, I'm good. Why don't we save the rest for tomorrow night?"

"Okay."

Not much.

Life, life, what a balancing act, huh?

Anyway, thanks for reviewing, midnightrebellion86! You rock, dude. :)

Next up, the balance tilts.