Quartermaine Mansion, Interior-

Ned Ashton was a man of many talents. He could sing well enough to have, at one time, had a very successful music career. He was a chief executive officer of a conglomerate corporation which, at times, helped his family stay in the money that they had long since earned. He liked to think that, despite the fact that his mother was often considered to be Satan taken female form, a good son and a good brother. But there was one thing that Ned knew he wasn't very good at. Ned knew that he wasn't a very good father. He sat there in the living room, looking around at the pictures of various members of the family, including Lila. He was crushed when she died. He admired her spirit, everyone did. Another thing that Ned wasn't good at, he was quick to realize, was being a good husband. Lois had left him, and there was that whole mess with Alexis that ended before it even really started, although she told him that none of it was his fault that didn't stop him from thinking that there was something he did that pushed her away.

He always did that, didn't he? He always pushed people away. He pushed his family away when he got married to Lois, thinking that it would help him start living life as an individual, which was a stupid idea since they always found a way to meddle in his life anyway. He pushed Lois away… and, ultimately, pushed his daughter away. Brook meant so much to him, but did he ever show it? No. He was always too busy to do anything involving his daughter, even pick up a phone and ask her how she was doing. Despite being thought of as a paragon of perfection amongst the Quartermaine clan, Ned realized just how flawed he truly was.

"Darling, you look like you could use someone to talk with."

Ned gave a cold glare at his mother, "And you think that I should turn to you for support?"

"I am your mother," Tracy smiled at him, "I know you best."

"What's my favorite color?"

"Orange?"

Ned shook his head, "No, mother, my favorite color is not orange. I guess you don't really know me as well as you think."

"Colors don't matter anyway, do they?"

"It's red," Lois came in from the hallway. "Ned's favorite color is red."

There was a small smile that appeared on Ned Ashton's face, partly because of the fact that Lois remembered, but quite possibly it had more to do with the fact that his mother looked like she would rather be enduring Chinese water torture. Ned probably would have watched that. "You remembered."

"Give her some credit, dear," Tracy commented snidely. "Lois has a brain… somewhere. I'm sure it can remember little random factoids of no importance."

"I always thought that your present to us when we were married was staying away as often as you did," Lois kept her cool demeanor even when she didn't want to, even when she thought that the best thing she could do would be to strangle Tracy and rid the world of her for good. One day she would take a hand count. "I guess I was right."

"I thought I sent you some china…"

"You did, mother, addressed to, I believe 'my darling son and the tart.' We opened that gift in private… just in case something blew up and ruined Lois's dress."

"I would never do anything to hurt that dress," Tracy walked over to the bar, "that dress belonged to my mother, it has priceless sentimental value."

"Did you wear it when you got married?" Lois wondered.

Ned chuckled, "Which time?"

"If you two are done attempting to lower my self-esteem I'd like to continue the conversation that I was having with my son… alone, thank you."

"Look, you got me back to the mansion, are you happy?"

The three adults were all alarmed to hear Brook Lynn's very distinguished voice. She was angry, and when she sounded angry she seemed to channel her grandmother. Ned and Lois didn't like that, and they were almost sure that Tracy didn't, either. But they didn't worry about that, instead they all walked towards the door, trying to see who was with her.

"I'll be happier when I know you're safe…"

"Listen, just because you're my uncle doesn't mean that you have a right to try and boss me around! You were never there for me growing up, none of you people were…"

Dillon hid the pain that came from her scathing remark, but he knew it was true. He wasn't there for Brook when she was growing up. Even though he was barely older than her he still could have protected her, been there for her when she needed someone. "I didn't have a choice…"

"If you want to blame someone for taking Dillon away from you, you should really blame Tracy," Georgie knew that it was her choice that the two go away to Europe. Dillon was too young to even argue with his mother, but he was with her now and Georgie wouldn't let Tracy do something like that again.

"I refuse to be your scapegoat, Georgie," Tracy was the first to come into sight. "And why are you here anyway? Don't the guards have you on some list where they're to use a tazer on you if you come too close?"

"Mom!" Dillon was hoping to avoid spending any time with his mother before he left, but his hopes were dashed and two seconds into their forced encounter she was already taking apart the woman that he loved. "Would you please be a little more respectful to Georgie?"

"This is me being respectful, dear," Tracy countered. "Believe me, I'm holding back."

"What's going on here?" Lois walked over to Brook, "Brookie, where were you? We tried to call you on your phone to make sure that you were all right, but you never answered."

"I didn't want to be bothered," Brook pushed herself away from her mother. "I don't want to be bothered right now, either."

"Brook Lynn Ashton!" Ned tried to make his voice sound as intimidating as he possibly could. "You do not talk to your mother like that…"

"Oh, now you're going to try and play father?" Brook felt the tears swelling in her eyes again. "You know, I thought that I could get over the fact that you were never there for me, dad, but I don't think I can. I thought I could give you another chance because of everything that had happened… but maybe I can't do that, either."

"Brookie…"

"Don't, ma!" She snapped. "Just leave me alone, all of you!"

Tracy waited a moment, watching the young girl run up the stairs, waiting for the inevitable slamming of the door. She looked at Lois, "Your daughter certainly has your flair for the dramatics."

"Mom!"

"Mother!"

Tracy found herself attacked by both of her sons at the same time. She merely shrugged her shoulders, "You know that you were thinking the exact same thing, both of you."

Dillon rolled his eyes, "You know what… we're done here."

"No, you're not," Ned grabbed his little brother by the arm. "You brought her home, Dillon, and she's not telling anybody what happened…"

"You think I know what happened?" Dillon asked.

"Anything you can tell us would be helpful," Lois didn't know what Dillon knew, but she was right, anything would be good.

"And since you want to be a movie director, I'm sure you could embellish, just a little."

"I'm sure that Dillon will embellish when he makes a movie by having a mother who isn't a horrid witch like you," Georgie had never liked Tracy, and the resentment was not hers alone. They might well be in-laws eventually… and that wouldn't be fun.

"When I ask for your opinion in something, you low bred peon, I'll let you know."

Dillon ignored his mother's insults at his girlfriend, only finding the strength to not yell at her when he clutched his hand into a fist and gritted his teeth. Taking a moment to recollect his sanity, he focused on the important matter, his niece and her wellbeing. "Georgie and I were on the docks, we didn't know that Brook was there. We heard her singing and we went to see who it was because we could tell that there was something about the way that she was singing that showed just how sad she was."

"Brook's like that," Lois nodded. "Whenever she's sad she'll sing. I wish she would do it when she was happy, too… such a beautiful voice."

Georgie continued the explanation, "When we realized that it was her we asked what was wrong, but she didn't want to talk with us, either, but Dillon could see that there was something that was bugging her so he told her that he was going to bring her back to the mansion… but she didn't really talk to us while we were on our way back."

"Thank you for looking out for her, Dillon," Ned was grateful that his little brother still cared enough to put his family in his life as a priority.

"We'd better go…" Dillon looked at his mother, she was gearing up to think of reasons why he should stay, he knew it. "It was hard enough getting here because of all the snow."

"I can't let you put yourself at risk, Dillon, I love you too much for that. You're staying here… the wench can take a chance, though."

"Mom…"

"I was joking, darling, honest. I wouldn't want to have Commissioner Scorpio on my case because of his darling daughter's untimely demise."

"Let's go, Georgie," Dillon ignored his mother as best he could, grabbing Georgie's hand and walking away.

She turned and looked at Ned and Lois. It was easy to see that they were concerned. "I hope that Brook Lynn feels better."

"Thank you, Georgie," Lois smiled. The girl was so kind, very much like her mother. "Tell Mac that I said Happy New Year, please."

"I will."

Alice walked in from one of the other rooms, "Where do you kids think you're going?"

"Anywhere but here," Dillon's blunt response ripped at his mother's heart. If he was aware of it and if he actually enjoyed the fact that it did was unknown.

"Roads are closed," Alice stood in front of the door.

"We'll walk."

"Dillon, don't be stupid," Tracy walked over. "If you're not going to stay here for your own protection then think about your girlfriend. She's so petite that she would probably freeze to death before you got to the gate."

Dillon's eyes burned with rage at the prospect of spending time with his family again, and allowing poor Georgie to suffer just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but what choice did he have? As much as he hated to admit it, Tracy was right. He wouldn't make it back without at least getting sick. "The second that we can leave, we're gone."

"Then I'll have to make sure that every moment counts, won't I?" Tracy smiled, happy that she could at least have her son around for a little while, even if it came with the not so happy stipulation of having Georgie around as well. "Why don't we play a game? Jenga?"

"The only game you're good at is twisting people into doing your bidding, and I don't want to play that game."

"You don't get a choice as to if you want to play that game or not, my son… if I wanted you to play, you would play. Come, you look like you need something in your stomach. Does that mobster not feed you enough? Does he even feed you?" Tracy grabbed Dillon's hand and pulled at him. She had gotten herself another chance at swaying her child to return to the fold, she was not going to waste it.