Surprise! I got a day off, so here's a new chap. Enjoy! Again, I don't own the TB's just the characters I made up.

John whistled as he stirred the sauce on the stove. He had jazz playing in the background, and the bluesy notes suited the rainy weather outside. He glanced up at the clock and smiled. Christa got off work twenty minutes ago, she should be here soon. He lowered the flame under the sauce and took a peek at the chicken in the oven.

"Maybe she won't show up after all."

"Shut up."

"Now John—"

"I said shut up." John tried to drown out the voice in his head by turning the music up louder. He walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey, then sat on the couch, idly leafing through a sheaf of papers.

"DING-DONG!"

John's head snapped up and he turned down the music, listening intently.

"DING-DONG!"

John smiled and walked over to the door. "What happened babe, forget your key?" He asked as he opened the door.

"Hey there brother mine."

John stood stunned. "Scott?"

Scott grinned tiredly up at his brother. "In the flesh so to speak."

"I…how…What are you doing here?"

Scott chuckled. "Sounding like Brains there John. If you let me come in, I'll explain everything."

John shook off his shock and stepped aside. "What? Oh sure, come in."

"Thanks bro." Scott shook the water out of his hair. "Dad's right behind me. He's getting the luggage out of the car."

"Dad's here too!"

"It's kind of a long story."

John felt his temper building and he folded his arms across his chest. "I'm dying to hear it."

Jeff opened the door at that moment and took in the sight before him. Scott stood, grinning sheepishly, while John glared, his blue eyes bright with anger. "Hello John."

John turned and nodded. "Dad. Scott here, was about to tell my why you two have suddenly appeared on my doorstep." He said shortly.

Jeff narrowed his eyes at his second son. "Last I checked, it was my doorstep."

John took a deep breath. "Fine." He stormed off towards the kitchen.

Jeff raised an eyebrow at Scott who shrugged. Well, isn't this going to be a fun stay." Scott muttered, walking up the stairs.

Jeff sighed and went into the kitchen. John was stirring something on the stove, muttering under his breath. "John, I'm sorry for the intrusion, it just never occurred to me to call a hotel."

John jumped, his eyes darting wildly around the room. Jeff frowned. "Are you alright?"

John turned back to the stove. "I'm fine." He said shortly. "You startled me that's all. Not used to having anyone around."

Jeff leaned against the counter. "I'll make a few calls and find a hotel."

"Great." He replied, not looking up.

Jeff sighed. What happened to the John of a week ago that called me for help? "John look—"

Before he could continue, they heard the front door open. "Hey honey! Something smells great!" Christa sauntered into the room, shaking the rain out of her black hair. "What are you making? Oh, hello." She paused looking at Jeff.

Jeff smiled. "Hello."

"Wait, you're John's father. We spoke on the phone once…" She smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Christa Lynch."

Jeff took her hand and grasped it warmly. "Jeff Tracy."

"So Mr. Tracy, what brings you to Boston?" Christa asked.

John turned and folded his arms across his chest. "Yes, I'd be interested in hearing that myself."

Christa shot him a quizzical look. "John? Is something wrong?"

John let his breath out in a huff and turned back to the stove. "It's nothing." He snapped.

Christa raised an eyebrow at Jeff who shrugged. She started towards John when Scott came back in the room. "Hey Blondie! I found nylons hanging in the bathroom. There something you want to tell me?"

"Actually, they belong to me." Christa glared at him.

Scott started then broke into an easy grin. "Hey there. You must be Christa."

She smiled back. "Yes I am." She eyed him critically. "And you must be…hmm, it's either Scott or Virgil. I'm guessing Scott."

"You guessed correctly." His grey eyes twinkled at her. "So, you're the girl who got my little brother's head out of the stars."

Christa laughed. "Well, we did go to the planetarium on our second date."

Scott walked over and draped his arm across John's shoulders. "Bro, we so need to talk."

John merely shrugged himself free. "Trying to cook here." He tossed some pasta into a pot of boiling water.

Scott glanced at his father who shook his head. "John, don't go to any trouble. We'll get something at the hotel." Jeff told him.

"Hotel? Why are you going to a hotel? There's plenty of room here, right John?" Christa smiled at John.

John took a deep breath. "Sure. Plenty of room." He said through clenched teeth.

Christa frowned at him. "We'll just go wash up, it was a long flight." Jeff started from the room, grabbing Scott by the good elbow and pulling him along. "Let's go Scott."

Christa waited until they were out of earshot before turning to John. "Want to explain to me what that was all about?"

"What?"

"Don't you 'What?' me. That little scene with your family? You were downright rude." Christa told him.

John finally looked at her. "Yeah? Good." He sighed. "Look Christa, I've told you. Things are…strained between us. I'm just surprised to see them here OK?"

"You could be a little nicer. You don't even know why they're here."

"I don't particularly care."

"John."

John sighed. "Fine. They can stay." He muttered.

Christa stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank-you. Now, what's for dinner?"

"Chicken parmigiana. I hope there's enough." John said, pouring a glass of wine for himself and Christa.

"They'll be plenty." Christa placed two more settings at the table.

"Plenty what?" Asked Scott as he came back in.

"Dinner. John doesn't think we'll have enough. But he eats like a bird anyway." Christa winked at John who rolled his eyes. Scott burst out laughing.

Jeff walked in at that point. "Eats like a bird? Are you talking about John?"

John groaned. "Yeah, let them stay here, great idea." He muttered under his breath. "OK, I'm not a waitress. Serve yourselves."

Jeff grabbed two plates. "Scott sit and rest, I'll get yours."

John took a good look at his brother and for the first time, noticed how stiffly Scott was moving. "What's wrong?"

"My shoulder." Scott sat down as Jeff put a plate in front of him.

Christa frowned. "John told me you fell and cracked your collarbone or something. What happened?" She sat down across from him.

Scott met John's eyes behind Christa. John shook his head and Scott sighed. "I was doing some work on the roof at home and slipped off some scaffolding. I need to see a specialist about it."

John sat down and stared at his brother. "It hasn't healed?"

Scott shook his head. "Not really." He looked down at his plate.

"Who are you seeing?" Christa asked.

Jeff joined them. "Some one named Rosemary Vickers."

"Rosie? She's the best. You'll love her." Christa told Scott.

"Of course he'll love her. She's got legs doesn't she?" John muttered, breaking the tension around the table.

The meal continued with everyone, except John, talking and laughing. John merely picked at his meal, finally getting up and leaving his nearly full plate on the counter, and marched from the room. A few moments later they heard the front door slam.

Jeff looked over at Christa, who sighed. "He'll be back in a little while." She said softly as she got up and started clearing the table.

Jeff shot a look at Scott and nodded towards the door. Scott sighed. "Thanks for dinner. If you both don't mind, I'm going to lie down for a while. I'll take one of the spare rooms."

Christa frowned at him in concern. "Are you in pain? I have some stuff in my bag if you need it."

A fleeting emotion flashed across Scott's face. "No thanks, I'll be fine." Without another word, he slipped out of the room.

When he had left, Christa looked up at Jeff. "What else is wrong with him? What didn't he tell us?" Jeff looked up started. "Please, I'm not blind."

Jeff started loading the dishwasher. "He's addicted to painkillers. Vicodin especially." He sighed. "We're hoping we can kill two birds with one stone while we're here."

"Mr. Tracy? Scott has to want to stop the drugs. Otherwise…"

"I know. And the name is Jeff."

She smiled. "I'll try." She glanced out at the rain outside and sighed. "Mr. Tracy…Jeff? Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What's on your mind Christa?"

She busied herself at the stove a moment, then sat down at the table, looking down at her folded hands. "It's John…"

Jeff sat down across from her. "What about him?"

"He told me that there's some…tension between all of you."

"You could say that." Jeff sighed. "Did he tell you why?"

She shook her head. "No. He said that things were strained, but that's it." She sighed. "He's talked a little about his accident. How his lab was attacked by terrorists and that they kidnapped some of his colleagues. But then he gives me some story about using his name and money to go on the World Police raid to get them back!" She got up and paced the room. "He's lying to me! I know he is! He's plagued by these horrible nightmares and panic attacks and then there's the drinking…" She sighed. "I love him, really I do, but…" She looked up at him, her indigo eyes brimming with tears. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

Jeff got up and took her in his arms. "Oh honey." She trembled, crying silently and he gently rubbed his hands over her hair. She was so tiny, that she barely came up to his shoulders.

Christa pulled away, wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

"I just met you and I'm dumping all this in your lap." She took a steadying breath. "It just gets a little overwhelming sometimes. Every time I think I have John figured out, he throws me a curveball."

Jeff smiled. "I know exactly how you feel." Then his smile faded. "He's still drinking?"

She held up an empty wine bottle. "You and I each had a glass, Scott didn't have any."

Jeff closed his eyes. "Damn…" He looked up at her again and weighed his words carefully. "I don't know exactly what went on that day. I was only there for the aftermath. He was attacked, and did go after his attackers. What happened then, he won't talk about. I've tried to be patient, but getting John to open up is like trying to talk to a brick wall sometimes. The only one who's ever really gotten through to him is Scott."

"Maybe he can help."

Jeff shook his head. "Scott has his own demons to deal with. I've left John alone, hoping he'd turn to me when he was ready, and he has to an extent but…"

"But he's still holding something back." She finished.

"Exactly." Jeff looked solemnly into her eyes. "Don't let him drive you away Christa."

"Is that what he did to you?"

Jeff nodded. "In a way. He convinced himself that we don't care and he isn't needed and left."

Christa's eyes widened in surprise. "He never told me he left you! I thought…"

"That I sent him away." He shook his head. "He was hurt, physically and emotionally. I'd never to that to a stranger, let alone my son."

"Mr. Tracy—Jeff, I'm so sorry."

Jeff shrugged. "I'm hoping that being here with Scott can make him see that we do still care."

Christa smiled and took his hand. "We'll work on him together."

John staggered up the front steps and unlocked the door. Stepping inside he waited until the foyer stopped spinning and glanced up at the clock. 2:30…Terrific. He pulled off his sodden jacket and after fighting with the coat hanger for a moment, just dropped it on the floor.

He stumbled to the stairs and after staring at them a minute, decided to sleep on the downstairs couch instead. Not that I couldn't get up there if I really wanted to. He made his way into the living room and flopped down on the couch.

"Late night there John-boy?"

John yelped in surprise as the lamp next to the couch turned on. "Scott? Why are you still up?"

"Wrong time zone. What about you?" Scott asked, settling himself gingerly back in his chair.

"I don't have to explain my actions to you." John snapped.

Scott met his brother's gaze levelly. "No, but you do have someone you should have talked to."

John groaned and put his face in his hands. "Shit."

"You're lucky bro. She's not here."

John's head snapped up. "Where is she?"

Scott shifted again, idly rubbing his shoulder. "She got called into work. Some kind of accident on 95."

"Shit." John said again. He got to his feet, and paused as the room spun around him.

"Dammit John!" Scott bolted to his feet and placed a steadying hand on his brother's arm. "How much have you had?"

"None of your business." He pulled his arm free and started towards the door, reeling unsteadily.

"Where do you think you're going?" Scott asked, once again steadying his brother.

"To bed, where do you think?"

Scott snorted. "Like you can make it up the stairs at this point. Hell, Fermat could knock you over one handed." He steered John back to the couch, wrinkling his nose at the alcohol stench emanating from his brother. "Plant it Blondie."

Knowing it was useless to argue, John sagged back on the couch. "Was she pissed?" He asked a few minutes later.

Scott sat down across from his brother. "Actually, she acted like this was an everyday occurrence. Is that true John?"

John glared. "No."

"John."

"Look Scott, it's none of your damned business if I have a few drinks!"

"You've had more than a few there bud."

"And how many pills have you popped today?" John had the satisfaction of seeing Scott go pale. "Just because I don't live at home anymore, doesn't mean I'm out of the loop. Alan's been the only one who's bothered to keep in touch with me the past few months."

Scott willed himself to stay calm. "Maybe you should have tried harder to keep in touch with us."

"Fuck you Scott." John got to his feet again, this time lurching over to the bar.

Scott frowned. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

John ignored him and took a long pull of whiskey straight from the bottle. Scott shook his head in disgust and left the room without another word.

John watched him leave out of the corner of his eye, then sat back down on the couch.

"The nerve of him."

"Don't start. I'm not in the mood."

"No, you are a bit irate this evening, aren't you John."

"I said knock it off." He took another drink.

"But John, is it me you're angry at? They are the ones who showed up on your doorstep without so much as a by your leave."

John nodded. "Yeah…"

"And now Mr. 'Holier than thou' Scott Tracy lectures you? So you had a bit to drink. You are a grown man. Responsible for your own actions."

"At least I'm not popping painkillers like they're candy." He muttered, placing the bottle on the coffee table.

"He nearly got your brothers killed."

John started. "What? When? How?"

"Scott caused the accident with Gordon and Alan. Did not your father tell you?"

John started to do a slow burn. "No, he only said Gords had been hurt on a rescue."

"Well, I suppose this is just one more thing they did not want you to know about. Sleep well John."

John gave a groan and settled back onto the couch, closing his eyes and giving in to oblivion.

Scott paused in the hallway, listening to his brother's one sided conversation. He thought at first John was talking to Christa, but as he went on, Scott felt a chill run through him. The Hood, it has to be. He glanced back into the room, and seeing that John had fallen asleep, or passed out, he sighed and made his way to his own bed.