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: I've done it! It's finally updated! Bet you thought I forgot you guys, that I'd leave you hanging. Well, don't worry—I didn't; I just had to work out a few kinks in the chapter—needed to give you the best quality possible :-) So. The second chapter of my fic is now complete- with the helpful reviews and gentle prodding of Ditey and Visbot (many thanks, also, to the other three reviewers). I would have posted 5 days ago, but I had issues with my printer, which prevented me from printing out my drafts to proofread. But it now works, and I am thus handing over to you my second chapter with a hopeful heart—that you enjoy what will follow. Now, all I need are five more reviews- once I see them, I will post. So, review, folks! Read and review!

I hope you enjoy!

-roverjj

Chapter 2

Beep.

Ephram's hand slammed down forcefully on the alarm clock as its incessant whine continued, knocking it off his bedside table where it subsequently crashed against the wall and landed on the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before slowly untangling himself from the covers, stumbling groggily to the bathroom and into the shower. The sudden sting of the cold needles hitting his back and running down his bare length was enough to wake him, but not enough to drive away the headache bordering on a migraine. Brushing his teeth and shampooing quickly, he stepped out and toweled off.

Aimlessly, he put on a black, unmarked T-shirt over an equally nondescript grey shirt. Pulling up his jeans with one hand, he reached with the other into the medicine cabinet above the sink. His fingers hunted around blindly as he struggled with the fastenings at his waist until they finally settled on the bottle of Advil. He popped open the top, shaking two tablets into his mouth while turning on the cold water faucet. Cupping a handful of the running water, he tipped it into his mouth and swallowed. Grimacing slightly, he carelessly ran his hand through his wet, purplish-brown hair before reaching out to the doorknob, turning it, and stepping out into the hallway-

whereupon he was immediately greeted by his father.

Oh, joy.

"Good morning, Ephram! You know, I was just about ready to head out, but I figured I should wait for you first-"

"Should've saved yourself the trouble," muttered Ephram, brushing by him on the way to his room.

Andy's voice followed him to his bedroom, where he was gathering together his books. "I'm driving to Denver and storing the car there. My flight's at 11:05—it should last about four to five hours. Marianne-" Ephram snorted rudely, but his father was oblivious. "-will pick me up and, from there, we'll be—or rather, I will be revisiting New York City until her concert, after which I will drop by several former colleagues' offices, check up on former patients-"

"You know, Dad," said Ephram, reemerging from the room, stuffing papers into his half-open bag, "as sure as I am that the run-off of your schedule would prove fascinating beyond belief to the many Dan Rathers and Tom Brokaw mini-mes out there- I really don't care." He moved past his father and trekked down the hallway towards the stairs.

Andy's footsteps echoed angrily behind Ephram down the hallway. "What's your problem with this trip, anyway? The minute I mentioned it last night, you became so- offended and upset, and now you 'don't care?' If you could've caused your own rat-sized version of Hiroshima, I'd say you probably more than qualified for 'caring.'"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

"Yeah? Well, there's definitely a problem that's not going to be overlooked just because of your newly-acquired apathy-"

"My 'newly-acquired apathy?'" Ephram paused two steps down the staircase to stare at Andy, incredulous. "Don't even get me started on the subject of apathy because I've got many years' worth of examples I could give you right about now."

"Forget that. It's just—couldn't you just show one ounce of civility or respect towards me on the morning I'm scheduled to leave for an as-of-yet undetermined amount of time?"

Ephram faced his father halfway down the stairs, eyes flashing. "Oh yeah—I forgot you were going off across the world as the sole member of the 'I-want-to-be-a-world-patron-like-Mother-Theresa-focusing-solely-on-the-importance-of-single-handedly-curing-all-disease-and-living-vicariously-in-a-life-filled-with-hypocrisy-and-apathy-while-excluding-the-value-of-familial-priorities' Country Club. You know what?" He raised his hands in mock defeat. "Forget it. I'm wasting breath that could be much better used discussing the ramifications of eating seriously molded bread with three month old, sun-curdled milk. So enjoy yourself on your perfectly innocent, nondescript, non-hypocritical, and certainly non-apathetic trip to Julliard."

Andy's hand slammed against the banister in anger and frustration as he continued pursuing Ephram towards the living room. "Jesus Christ, Ephram—you know, sometimes I wonder why I even try. I've put up with your- crap, day after day after day, and the least I'm asking for today is a civil goodbye! God, Ephram, do you purposefully go out of your way to make our lives, especially mine, a living hell?"

Ephram threw his bag violently over his right shoulder and glared at Andy. "It's always got to come back to you in the end, doesn't it? Let me remind you exactly who it is that's leaving us for the next week or longer. Now is not the optimum time to take on the role of the self-righteous, affronted father. And as for making our lives a living hell-" Ephram chuckled bitterly, "you've succeeded at doing that all by yourself--and a fine job of it, if I may add." He turned and stormed through the kitchen, barely noticing the silent occupants at the dinner table.

"Nina made us pancakes and bacon!" Andy called out desperately to his rapidly disappearing back.

Ephram stumbled over the medium-sized suitcase and carry-on resting directly in front of the door, replying, "Have a nice trip."

Andy moved determinedly to the front door. "You need to eat something, and Nina went way out of her way this morning to make us breakfast!"

"I don't want any, I'm not hungry!"

"Ephram Brown, come inside right now, sit down, and have some pancakes with us as a family!"

He struggled with the kickstand before hopping on, wobbling forward and yelling defiantly over his shoulder, "Take your family pancakes and shove them up your ass!"

"Ephram!" He pedaled furiously, oblivious to the slick, snow-covered road.

Andy slammed the door and glared at it, fuming. He finally turned towards the dinner table, forcing on a weak and defective smile that crumbled even further when met with Nina and Sam's shocked expressions—and Delia's indifferent back. Taking the forgotten frying pan from Nina's limp hand, she raised it absently in her father's general direction while cutting herself another forkful of the syrup-drenched food in her plate.

"Pancakes?"

Author's Note: If you have time, please take the time to post constructive reviews for me so I can better approach the 3rd 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 the chapter, and why.