A/N: Since I'm home sick today (24-hr flu epidemic spreading around the southern half of New Jersey), and since the last chapter was relatively short, here's the next one. Don't worry about me, I'll be better by tomorrow :)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Stella and Andy waited anxiously in the living room, looking out of the front window every five minutes or so. Another Nattrod attack- or battle, as it seemed more like, with their increasing numbers- had just occurred, and they were hoping none showed up when their father got there.

In his phone conversation the night before, Mark had apologized completely for leaving. He said that he had never felt so sorry in his life for abandoning his children, and that he did it because he'd felt overwhelmed by everything he'd done in the past. He'd tried to run away, but he worried about them too much, so he had to come back. Of course, when he drove to his house and found the state it was in, he panicked. Stella had informed him of their location, and he said he would start out once it got to be morning.

She and her brother were anxious to see him again- sure, they (Andy mostly) were a little angry about him binding their powers and lying about their mother, but they wanted to reconcile and get things back as normal as possible.

Stating that they were in San Francisco, at 1329 Prescott Street, naturally opened a whole new world of conversation. They talked for about an hour about powers and witchcraft and the current situation the family was facing. Upon hearing the story, their dad had paused for a second, and then answered, "I may be able to help you with that." They didn't know what kind of help they would be getting, but they were grateful for any at this point. More and more Nattrods kept coming. It was shaping up to be a war against them.

"He's here," Andy stated as he looked out the window. Their father's car had just pulled up. Stella instantly ran towards the door, her brother in tow. She opened it and hugged her father as he walked across the porch.

"Dad!" she exclaimed. "We were so worried!"

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry for everything…" Mark Joyce apologized profusely as they headed inside. "Hey, Andy," he said, giving his son a pat on the back.

"Hey, Dad," Andy replied, returning the gesture. His father looked around pensively at the house.

"What is it?" Stella asked.

"It's just… I haven't been here in a while," he mumbled. Recalling the events that had taken place all those years ago still gave him chills. Mark knew he would never be able to forget seeing his wife dead on the kitchen floor, her body caked with blood.

"So, what were you saying over the phone about being able to help us?" Andy asked.

"Right. Well-"

Just then, Pam walked down the stairs. As soon as her eyes met her long-lost uncle, she stopped. Her stare was as cold as death. "You…" she said viciously.

"Pam," Mark replied, trying to think of a way to answer her. He didn't get a chance to.

"What are you doing here?" she asked cruelly.

"I can help you…" Mark began.

"Oh, you want to help us?" Pam asked. "Now, after all the time you've spent screwing us over, you want to help us?" Mark was silent. "You abandoned your own kids two weeks ago, and now you just show up expecting total reconciliation?"

"But we do forgive him, Pam," Stella interjected. "He's apologized."

"I haven't heard anything," Pam stated. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Pam, if you'll just give me a moment, I'll explain everything…" Mark started.

"You've had your chance to come back here and explain things for quite a while now. It's too late. We don't need your help."

"Yes, you do! I know about Stephen Joyce, the demon hunter! I know what he used! It's strong enough to kill anything!"

Pam looked like she'd just been floored. "It kills anything? So let me get this straight, you watched our family perish for months and didn't mention a word of this? Your wife could still be alive! Leo could still be alive! My mother could still be alive!"

"I know. Listen, that's been haunting me…"

"Usually when something haunts someone it doesn't take them eleven years to realize that they should apologize," Pam sniped. "Or were you too drunk to figure out where you went wrong? That's a great way to build a family, on lies and alcohol…"

"He gave us the best childhood he could!" Andy shouted. "And he's changed now! Can't you just accept that?"

Pam stared at them all. "No," she replied. "Get out."

"What?" Mark answered, dumbfounded at how she was reacting.

"Get out. I don't want you in my house."

"Pam…" Stella started.

"No, it's alright," Mark stopped her. "I'm not wanted here. I'll go."

"Dad…" Andy said. He stopped abruptly at that, not sure what to say afterwards.

"Bye, kids. Hopefully we'll see each other again soon." And with that, Mark left. Stella and Andy would've followed him right out if they weren't aware of the fact that without their Wiccan relatives, they wouldn't stand a chance against the demons that kept coming. They turned to face Pam, both wearing particularly angry expressions.

"Why did you do that?" Stella asked.

"Are you kidding? He's been hurting us for years. It's time he owes up to all that he's done," Pam replied defiantly.

"But he's our father!" Stella continued.

"He unfairly took away an entire half of who you are," Pam reminded. "I'm surprised you guys are standing by him."

"Because he's our dad!" Andy burst out. "Just because he's not perfect doesn't mean he doesn't care! And it certainly doesn't mean we're not gonna care about him! He's always tried to do what he thought would be best for us, and he said he was sorry!"

"Why couldn't you just let him talk?" Stella asked. Her voice was shaky now. "You know our only chance of vanquishing the Nattrods is learning what he knows." She sniffled. Her andAndy walked past Pam and headed up the stairs. Pam stood there, wondering if maybe she had made the wrong decision. When anger got in the way, she could be so much like Prue sometimes… She related Stella and Andy's situation to her foster father, and that's when she really started to question herself. Of course, if he had done anything, she would forgive the man. But he had never done half the things Mark had done… he did try to send her to a psychiatrist though… Pam headed back up to the attic, trying even harder to justify her temper.