JDs mother was in a mood. And a terrible one at that. Yelling at the smallest things, forcing her son into his room as the war raged on outside the wooden door. Occasionally, he'd hear her get frustrated all over again, and another bang. If disorder permitted, it would end shortly.

But it was uncontrollable. And unpredictable.

Bud Dean walked in the barren home, white walls with no decor, and his wife with bags under her eyes. Sloped on the kitchen floor surrounded by various cleaning rags. He knew he couldn't ask her questions anymore. She wouldn't answer, and it wouldn't do shit.

Stepping around her, he made his way to the livingroom, throwing his bag aside. Television station flipping to the news as he looked down the hall at his sons closed bedroom.

"You're drunk. And it's not even five." Bud whipped his head around to look at Wendy, his wife.

He shrugged it off, "You're having a mental breakdown. And it's not even supper time. What a surprise honey."

A rag was tossed at his face, "You're an asshole. I hate you, and I have no idea why I married you. I'm having a crisis, and you don't even bother to care anymore!"

Loud sigh coming from the most annoyed places in Buds being, he shook his head, running his dirty hands down his face, "When I try, you won't speak, and I get screamed at. I ain't no lost puppy. I've learned my lesson. And found a sound way to deal with your outbursts. Like Jason has."

Deafening silence filled the room as the words where processed. Dean knowing full well that she was even more upset, he watched as the weather showed on the screen. Feeling the calm before the storm at its finest.

Wendy was outraged. Emotions mixing, heart racing as he was so content. It made her furious that he was normal, and she wasn't. No matter how many pills she'd swallowed, she could never be one person. And the man she wed had stopped understanding this a long time ago.

Hand raised high, a loud smack filled the whole room. Enough for JD to raise his head from his pillow. She stepped back and watched as the redness filled her husband's cheek. Reminding herself of the time she'd cut him with glass as he clutched his face and groaned. Healed scars scattered on his arms.

The bedroom door down the hall creaked open without notice. The young boy peaking out as his father stood up, face redder than a tomato. Jason secretly enjoyed the pain that he felt. Knowing it was deserving.

To everyones surprise, Bud turned to his wife. Expressionless, and eyes dulled. Recovering from the blow still, his calloused hands from years of work met with his wives cheek. Sending her plummeting to the ground as she cried out. Watching her husband step over her and sulk into the spare room on the opposite side of their home.

She lay her head gently on the plush pure white carpet. Her vison filled with white socks and the bottoms of jeans, Jason towering over the mess that was her.

Pathetic. Is what she thought of herself. Stupid and idiotic, shoving her son into the damaged world. His father an alcoholic, and his mother a nutcase. She knew she could never let his life be normal, even if they stayed in one place. There'd always be worse things to come.

Her boy got on his knees and touched his mom's shoulder. Making her realize just how mature he'd become. Dark hair filled with so much volume it was impossible to manage. He was tall, and skinny, like his dad when she met him in college. Although he was never really home, she knew her son was grand.

Memories flashed and faded of when he'd play that costly saxophone at the most random times. Causing dinners to be quite amusing.

Watery brown eyes looked up at her kin as he spoke, "I was waiting for the day he'd hit back mom."

Sniffling, she nodded, "I'm a wreck darling."

"Yeah. I know. But you have to accommodate. And stop being abusive. And try to be one person." He began to help her up from the ground.

Her mind switched gears, "I'm a terrible person."

Shrugging as he made his way down the hall, mother's arms wrapped around his shoulders for support, he told the truth, "Yeah, you can be. But everyone has good and bad days. You just have to choose not to let them bug ya."

"When did my baby get so wise?" The two stopped in front of her bedroom at the end of the hall.

He watched as she opened the door and slammed it shut, leaving him outside abruptly. Knowing she didn't even care for an answer. And in two hours, would be baking a pie, and joke with the man she'd just lashed out on. Pretending the unhealthy was normal once again, like always.

And it was okay. He just got used to it.