Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately.

A/N: Okay, I know JJ's been an ass lately, but hopefully this will explain some of it. The apple doesn't fall that far from the tree, in terms of attitude here, I guess. I swear, I'll fix everything! Feedback will speed up the cure! ;0P

"H-hello?" I stare at the clock blearily for a few seconds before the time sinks in: 2:00 AM. Who the hell…

"Hey, Sam!"

It must be JJ. It sounds too much like Josh to be anyone else, and since Josh is currently asleep in our guestroom, it can't, you know, be Josh.

"Um, yeah, so Nick here tells me I've had a little bit too much to drink and that I should get a cab home. Trouble is, I can't remember where home is. Do you know where home is?"

"Yeah, I know where home is. Listen, JJ, where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm just dandy, thanks. I'm having myself a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Or is it night? I'm not entirely sure."

"It's morning. Very definitely very early morning."

"Excellent!"

"Yeah. Put the bartender on the phone, okay? I'll come pick you up."

"Why, thanks, Sam. You're a real peach."

"I appreciate that."

"Oh, anytime."

After I hang up, Ainsley stirs beside me. "Who was it, Sam?"

"JJ. He's, ah, a little worse for wear."

"Let Josh take care of it. He's his son. Stay with me."

"Ains, you know as well as I do that JJ doesn't usually drink much of anything. If he's let himself get this gone something must really be wrong. And you know he and Josh don't necessarily…"

"You're right," she sighs. "Want me to tag along?"

"No, but thanks. I'll just make sure he gets home alright."

"Make sure who gets home alright?"

It's Josh. Damn.

"I'll get him. You stay in the car."

"But…"

"Josh, otherwise he'll feel as though he's being ambushed. You haven't seen him for what? Nine months? And then to pop up acting all like, well, you, when his defenses are down? Bad idea. Anyway, he doesn't do this unless something's really wrong. It isn't like him."

When Josh speaks he sounds tired. "How is it, Sam, that you know more about my son than I do?"

I lay a hand on his shoulder as I exit. "Stay in the car, Josh."

When he staggers out of the bar, I'm shocked. I've never seen him this far gone. Sam is half-carrying him. As they get closer, my concern grows. He's changed. He looks like he's impersonating someone else. He looks like every other yuppie twentysomething out there. And my son has never been one to fit in to anyone's mold, other than his own. I know that from bitter experience. But I always admired that, that he felt comfortable being his own man. Rather envious of it sometimes, in fact.

Sam hustles him into the car. He's chuckling drunkenly. Then he sees me. He smirks. "It's Pop! Well, hey there, Pop! So kind of you to join me on this gorgeous might. Kim dumped me tonight, d'y'know? According to my beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend, she's going places and I'm not. Apparently teaching children isn't glamorous enough for her. But who am I kidding, right? I'm not necessarily a catch, for a girl like her, and besides, you've disapproved of me since forever. I should be used to it by now, right?"

He flops against the seat like a petulant child, and is soon snoring away. Sam and I don't speak for the rest of the ride to the house.

Once we're there, Sam takes charge of steering JJ. I follow, just in case. I want to make sure he gets in okay. Sam raps on the door for a few minutes until a sleepy Becca opens it.

JJ grins loopily. "Becca! My friend!"

She looks at us. "Kim?" she mouths. Sam nods. "Oh, Lord. Come on, Champ."

"Are we going to bed?"

"Well, you are, and I am. Not together, though."

"Shame. Why not?"

"Because neither of us would be happy in the morning, that's why."

"I wouldn't mind."

"You're drunk."

"Still."

Sam and I have been watching this exchange as she guides JJ towards his bedroom. A few minutes later she's out again. "Thanks."

"Thank you," Sam says. "You need anything?"

"No, he'll be out for a while. I've seen this before."

I look at her. "I'll be by in the morning."

"I'll tell him."

"Josh, are you sure you want to go over there?"

"Sam, I'm bringing him breakfast. I'm his father. It'll be fi- well, it'll be ok."

"I'm just saying, he probably doesn't want to see anyone this morning."

"I know. I just…I have to do this, you understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Don't worry, Josh. He'll come around."

"Good morning, Becca."

"Hey, Josh. Is that coffee?"

"With your name on it."

"You're wonderful."

"That I am. Jay up yet?"

"Course not. Are those bagels?"

"Yup. There's plenty. Eat up."

"Great! Hey Chris! Bagels!"

"Excellent!"

"Is it absolutely necessary for you to shout like that?" It's Jay. He stumbles, disheveled, into the kitchen/living area. He blinks, groggily. "Is there coffee?"

"I don't know, Becc. Should we save some for the lush?" Chris teases.

"I suppose we can be magnanimous, since his father brought it."

"My, fath- Oh, hi, Dad. Um, what are you doing here?"

"I was staying with Sam."

"Ah. Wait…you were there last night?"

"Yeah. I, ah, I was in the back of the car."

"Oh. Well. How fucking fabulous."

Chris speaks quickly, smoothly. "Becca, sweetheart, what do you think about making this an al fresco breakfast?"

"Sure." They exit.

"So why were you at Sam's?"

"I had some business to take care of."

"That wouldn't include checking up on me, would it?"

"I prefer to think of it as visiting. Jay, come on."

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry, Dad. Everything's so fucked up right now, I…"

"It's ok, son." We're actually talking. Without rancor. Which, sadly, is unusual enough to notice. I hesitate, then speak my mind. "Do you, ah, maybe want to come home for a while? To DC?"

"What? Dad, I'm teaching right now, I…"

"I know, I just, I thought maybe, it might help. With things," I finish lamely.

"I cannot believe you." He's staring at me, open-mouthed. "Dad, why would Washington make anything better? Have you ever listened to me? Do you want me to constantly feel like a failure?"

I know it's the liquor talking, know he's going through a crisis of sorts, and that I should control my bubbling temper.

But you know what? Screw that.

"It just seems as though you have this deep aversion to everything that I love!" His dark eyes snap with anger and quite a bit of hurt. No matter, I've got quite enough anger of my own.

"That's because I do!" Dad blinks, a bit stunned, then turns away, his jaw set. "God, Dad, do you have any idea what it's like to grow up with you for a father?"

"Yes, you had such a horrible childhood," he replies sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up! Jesus, Dad, don't you know who you are? You're Joshua Lyman, political wonder, DC's strategical wizard, sought after by anyone who's anyone. How can I possibly compete with that?"

"I never-"

"Sure, Dad. Right. The pushing for Harvard, all the cracks, the patient, ever-present suggestions about getting a job in DC. Just coincidence, my ass. Why can't you just accept me for who I am? And then! I have your name, for God's sake! Named for a dying man, a way to carry on the Lyman legacy! How am I supposed to live that down? I feel like, when anyone in Washington looks at me, they don't see me, they see an extension of you. And I'm sorry, but I just don't want that. Why do you think I left?"

His mouth forms a small 'O' of astonishment, and his Adam's apple bobs. "I just…wanted to share something with you. That's all. Christ, JJ. You never let me in, and I don't know what to make of that. I wish you would. You're my son, and I love you, but I feel as though I don't know you."

I take a deep breath, and regard him calmly. "If you hadn't been sick, would I be here?" There. It's out.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Jesus Christ." He turns away abruptly, and when he turns to face me his eyes are full of such anguish, pain, and rage that I almost take a step back."

"So. You think you're some last-ditch attempt at preservation of the Lyman name, or something? You think I'm so egotistical that I would conceive a child purely as a means of preserving my professional legacy? What in the hell kind of screwy logic is that? Is that what you really think of me? Well, let me tell you something. You know why I didn't die, why I didn't give up? It was for you. It would have been so much easier to give in to the pain. I didn't give a rat's ass about my job, anything. I could even deal with the idea of leaving your mother. I didn't want to, at all, but we'd said what we needed to say, to give us both a measure of peace. But I couldn't stomach the thought of leaving you, never seeing you, never…holding you. Never knowing you. That's why I hung on." He pauses. "If I'd known, maybe I'd have saved myself the trouble," he says bitterly.

I'm trembling. "Dad, I-"

"Save it, JJ. Just…don't. I'm leaving now. I'll see…oh, hell. Forget this." And he stalks out.

Oh, God. Oh, man.

Shit.