A/N: Happy 2014, everyone! Thanks so much to all of you reading this story, and huge thanks to those of you who leave a review! I'd also like to say thank you again to all the guest reviewers - I can't reply to you guys in person, but I really appreciate hearing from you, and am very glad you take the time to let me know what you think :)

No Such Thing as a Perfect Family (20)

The next morning found Rusty in a state of mixed anxiety and eagerness.

Though it was just past eight a.m., at least a few others in the household seemed to have woken up, too: there were occasional footsteps and other muffled noises out in the hallway, and even the rare subdued voice drifting up from downstairs. Ricky, of course, had long since gotten up and dressed. But Rusty couldn't bring himself to do the same just yet, mostly because his stomach was tied up in knots and his brain stuck in overload mode.

It had been two days since he'd talked to Sharon – really talked, past brief greetings or meaningless phrases or sparse snippets of conversation when none of them had really felt like saying much at all – and Rusty was starting to feel seriously unhappy about that. Plus… he was feeling all sorts of other things that he had trouble understanding, and there was too much on his mind and... yesterday had just been a really long day for him, too.

And then he'd had a really...complicated night.

Rusty made the bed just to give himself something to do, but since he couldn't bring himself to actually leave the room, he dropped back on top of the bedspread with a long sigh.

After finding out that Sharon had come looking for him and he'd missed her (because the universe hated him and why, why couldn't he have waited half an hour to shower and brush his teeth, why?), he'd holed up in the bedroom to battle the disappointment and frustration coiled up in the pit of his stomach. And the anxious questions whirling around in his mind: why had Sharon wanted to see him? Had he done something wrong? Was she mad about all the ways he'd inadvertently invaded her privacy?

(Mostly inadvertently, and therein was another problem. Rusty had thought that his involvement in Sharon's tragedy had ended when she'd arrived at her family home, but he'd been wrong. He may have had no idea what to say to her and may have been scared of her reactions, but that hadn't been enough for him to actually stay away, so he was stuck in a state of constant vacillation… and it kept ending up in awkward results like offering Lt. Flynn tea or having to select reading material from Sharon's father's bookshelf. All of which could've been avoided if he could only figure. things. out!)

Turning his brain off the previous night had turned out to be no easy task.

He'd opened and closed the window and rearranged the clothes in his backpack and flicked disinterestedly through the book he'd had to bring up from the study. He'd even halfheartedly pulled out his schoolbooks, which had provided the unwelcome reminder that he still had homework for the following week, but even the mild anxiety of that realization hadn't been enough to distract him for long.

Sleep had been at first elusive, then agitated. And then he'd woken up at some point and the night had really gotten… challenging.

Rusty rubbed tired hands to his cheeks, cringing at the memory of it.

And he still hadn't gotten to talk to Sharon, which was just beyond ridiculous at this point and was it really that much to ask for like, five seconds of sitting down with her, so his head maybe wouldn't explode? It wasn't Sharon's fault, of course, if anything he was glad that she was finally getting some rest, but…

..and okay, he knew that she had no idea he was feeling so… and it wasn't as if there was anything she could do, anyway, about the fact that being around her family was making his brain feel sore in ways he couldn't comprehend, but…

…he just wanted…

…just…

He didn't know what he wanted. And that was the biggest problem.

Rusty didn't know what he wanted, and he didn't want to know what he wanted. He hadn't wanted anything to change, and now it was all changing independent of his will and he wasn't sure how it was changing, and he didn't want to deal with any of it.

He didn't even know how to deal with it, and it was so unfair that he couldn't find a chance to talk to Sharon for five minutes, so he could at least get some clue…

All he wanted at the moment was to be there for Sharon. Why did that feel so complicated?

It hadn't felt this complicated before meeting her family. He'd been perfectly happy with how things were, back in LA, and he hadn't had all these... questions and feelings and... it had just all been better then, and maybe he should've stayed there instead of coming to Minnesota. Sharon should've just gone without him. He should've just kept his mouth shut and gone to some DCFS family because that would've been simpler and way, way less...

...less...

The boy rolled onto his stomach and groaned.

Just... five minutes. They didn't even have to talk about anything serious. Sharon could just like, lecture him on the virtues of those piano concerts she liked to listen to, which were just about the most boring thing in the world but at this point Rusty would've gladly listened to her go on about four-handed pianos and the likes, because that would've at least been some small piece of normalcy, and his brain really needed normalcy right now.

Especially after last night. And the whole day before last night, really.

And actually, the whole week, maybe.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Rusty flopped onto his back again with a sigh, because he didn't want Ricky to think that there was anything bothering –

Ricky never knocked. Why would he knock, it was his room basically. Actually, no one had bothered with knocking, well except 'Aunt Mary-Anne' the previous morning, but clearly it wasn't her this time and –

Another light knock, and the door opened slightly; Rusty found himself scrambling to a sitting position without even realizing it, and he knocked his head on the wooden headboard in the process, too.

Sharon grimaced sympathetically. "Can I come in?" she asked quietly from the doorway, and okay, his nod may have been a little too vigorous because he was pretty sure he'd felt a neck muscle snapping.

She stepped inside and rested against the door for a moment, until it clicked closed again, then she flicked the light switch, probably a wise choice since the room was facing west and it was really overcast, nearly dark, outside. Rusty scooted to one end of the bed to leave her space to sit, and she walked over and sat down near the other end, resting one hand on the mattress for extra support and leaning her weight on it.

The second she met his eyes again he opened his mouth to say something, and some sort of bottleneck happened whereby a hundred different things came to his mind and none actually made it out through his mouth.

And then he remembered the incident from the previous night, and… "Sharon, I'm so sorry about the thing with your mom," he sputtered anxiously, "I swear I wasn't trying to scare her or, or anything… I was just getting some water and she came in and –"

Sharon held up a hand to stop him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

The boy returned a doubtful look, because really, had she not seen the state that her mother had been in because of him? The whole incident had been the most terrifying thing ever, and it made him wince just to remember it…

He'd woken up from a restless sleep shortly before five a.m., and it was still dark out and his brain just whirred right back to life with a thousand new issues. With a muffled groan, he'd swung out of bed to go downstairs for some water, because he was too sleepy and grumpy to go another round against his many anxieties, and at least it was almost morning and he'd get to talk to Sharon soon.

It hadn't even occurred to him that he may not have been the only one awake at that hour, and so he was caught completely flat-footed by the most unexpected of the encounters he'd had so far with Sharon's family.

He was just about halfway through his water glass when he heard the shuffling footsteps outside the kitchenette, and suddenly the silhouette of Sharon's mother appeared in the doorway. Rusty froze; he thought he might have gladly jumped out the window to avoid her, but she noticed him before he had a chance to do anything. She startled visibly and took a frightened step back and the boy, too, backed away in a panic and lifted his hands in the most reassuring gesture he could come up with.

"Sorry! It's okay! I was just getting some water," he hurried to explain himself when she put a hand to her chest in alarm, "I didn't mean to bother you. Sorry!"

The old woman stared. "Who are you?"

He would've taken another step back, but there was no more space. The room appeared unaccountably eerie, with the two of them frozen a few feet from each other and the moonlight streaming through the window. "Uh, Rusty."

"But… was she like, okay?" He sounded almost desperate.

Sharon let out a small sigh. "She's not okay, Rusty," she said quietly. "But… the whole time we've been here, it was the first time I heard her laugh again. No matter the reason, I want to believe that that was a good thing." She gave him a tired sort of half-smile. "You're the one who made it happen."

And he grimaced again, because honestly the whole laughing thing had not seemed like a good thing to him.

Elizabeth kept staring, a gleam of panic in her eyes. "Rusty? I don't…" She swallowed hard. "Who … why are you here…?"

He knew he should've just stayed in the damn bedroom, what was he thinking? "U-uh… I came with, uhm, your daughter? Sharon?"

To his distress, the woman's alarm, instead of vanishing, only increased. "But… Sharon's…" she shook her head, her voice raspy with shock, "…you're not Ricky…"

"What? No!" The boy held up his hands again, frantic. "I'm not Sharon's son. I'm her… uhm… it's complicated." His heart was pounding in his ears. "But I came here with her. Well technically I came here with Katie, and part of the way with Ricky, but… yeah…" He trailed off when he realized he was ranting, and Elizabeth continued to stare for a long moment.

"So… I don't know you," she said finally, slowly.

"No…" Rusty grimaced, feeling an awful mixture of panic and awkwardness, "sorry about being in your kitchen. I was just getting some water, I swear."

Abruptly, the old woman laughed, a low, hoarse sound that echoed strangely in the small room.

"I'm sorry, though," said Sharon, and Rusty was completely confused as to why she was apologizing when he was the one who'd terrified her grieving mother by wandering around the house like an idiot at five in the morning. "I can imagine that it must have been a little uncomfortable for you," she continued, and he gave her an unsure look because a little uncomfortable?

Rusty flattened himself against the sink even more. "Er…"

"Oh thank God." And Sharon's mother chuckled again, the same scary sound, and Rusty felt panic surging in him, because what he done, and was the elderly woman losing it right there, and why did these things always happen to him?

"Look, do you want to like, sit down or something…? I uhm…"

"The last thing I needed right now was to be losing my marbles, too… I heard that it can happen, you know…?" She shook her head, the last of her painful chuckles dying down. "But I don't know you. Well… that's the best news I've heard all week."

His eyebrows were lost in his hairline. "Uh…"

Sharon's mother noticed his panic for the first time, and gave another throaty huff of amusement. "You must think I'm out of my mind."

"No!" Rusty hurried to lie. "No, you just uhm, had a… hard few days, and…"

She nodded slowly. "That I did…oh…" She wiped away a tear, and even she wasn't sure if it was from laughing or if she'd started crying somewhere in the process. "But at the very least, I'm not losing it yet," she muttered, almost to herself. "You had me wondering for a minute there…"

She had him wondering still. "Uhm, sorry?"

Elizabeth let out another impossibly gruff chuckle and the light in the kitchenette suddenly went on, causing them both to wince at the unexpected brightness.

"Mother…!" Sharon appeared in the doorway, wrapped in the same black sweater she'd worn during the day, and surprise crossed her face at the sight of them. "Rusty? What…?" She noticed the traces of laughter and tears on her mother's face, and looked to be at a complete loss. "What's happening?"

Elizabeth placed a hand against one of the counters for support. "This is Rusty," she stated.

Sharon's expression softened. "I know, Mom," she nodded. "I'm Rusty's legal guardian."

"I thought he was Ricky."

Sharon gave a small, quiet smile.

"I thought…" Her mother shook her head again, with another silent chuckle. "Never mind that. It was nice meeting you, Rusty," she told the boy in her hoarse voice.

"Uh… likewise…? Sorry about… scaring you."

"Let me take you back to your room," Sharon walked in and offered the older woman her arm, "I'll bring you some tea in a little bit if you can't sleep."

Elizabeth patted her elbow, before taking the offered arm and allowing herself to be led out. "Good night, Rusty," she said quietly, and the boy followed her slow steps with a wary look:

"Goodnight…"

Sharon turned when they'd reached the doorway and gave him a slightly worried look. "I'll be back soon, alright?"

And Rusty grimaced warily and wondered if he could've possibly made things any worse, and figured that no, no, sending Sharon's mother into some sort of panic attack had been about the worst outcome he could've wrought, short of maybe actually giving her a heart attack. "I'm fine… just going back to bed…I swear," he'd felt the need to add. "Don't worry about me…"

"I am so sorry," he pleaded again, and Sharon just gave him another sympathetic look.

"It's okay," she assured him, "Rusty, my mother was fine. Just a little surprised... and a little sorry," she smiled, "that she scared you a lot more than you scared her."

"No she d –" He scratched the back of his neck, and admitted: "Okay, kind of."

"Don't worry about it," advised Sharon, and Rusty found himself actually able to comply, and he breathed a little easier and looked at her and realized again that she was there, and finally, and –

"Sharon, are you –"

The door flung open and Ricky walked in, and Rusty might've usually felt inclined to take the interruption in stride but this time he couldn't help a frustrated grimace. Thankfully, Sharon missed it, her attention diverted to her son, who'd paused a couple of steps in, obviously surprised to find her there.

"Mom! Hi..." His eyes scanned her quickly, and when a small crease appeared between his eyebrows Rusty imagined that he, too, had noticed how tired she still looked and the way her complexion was still too pale in contrast with the black sweater... "Everything okay? Were you looking for me?"

Ugh.

But Sharon just smiled. "Julie was looking for you earlier," she said, a diplomatic dodge if ever there was one, and Rusty was a little disappointed that she hadn't told Ricky that no, she wasn't in fact looking for him and could he please get a clue – then he mentally groaned and felt generally awful.

"I think she was having some trouble getting her car trunk to open," Sharon continued in a soft tone, "I told her you might be able to help...you always fixed ours when the lock jammed."

Ricky sighed. "True, but the only reason ours 'jammed' was because Katie always backed the car into anything not tall enough to show in the rear-view mirror." The two of them shared a smile over that, and Sharon's eyes flickered to Rusty briefly and hey, it had only been that one time and the bike rack and the car were fine and he'd learned to check the side mirrors afterwards, okay? "We had to get the trunk locks changed what, eight times?" Ricky went on.

Sharon hummed. "Only until the repair costs started coming out of your allowances."

The young man fiddled a little with the pockets of his sweater, the momentary lightness in his expression fading again, replaced by the same solicitousness he'd constantly shown around Sharon for the past few days. Which Rusty would've appreciated a lot more at the moment if Ricky could've, you know, been solicitous from the other side of the door.

"Do you want to get some breakfast?" Ricky offered.

"In a little while," said Sharon, and then she just looked at him with a silent, affectionate gaze, and she really couldn't have been more obvious about telling him to get lost, yet her son still hovered, seemingly determined to never leave the room again.

Rusty shifted impatiently in his spot at the far end of the bed.

Ricky gave him another apprehensive glance and fidgeted around the room a little more.

Sharon let out an imperceptible sigh.

"Why don't you go see if your sister's awake, honey?" she finally suggested to Ricky, her tone a little tired again. "I don't want to start breakfast without her."

Thankfully, he nodded. "Oh – yeah, okay, I'll go wake her up," and immediately headed for the door.

"And go tell Julie you can help her with the car," Sharon called after him, but Ricky had rushed out of the room already; another fleeting smile passed her lips before she stood and walked to close the door again, leaning against it the same way as before.

Rusty gave her a doubtful look. "You know he'll just be back in like, thirty seconds, right?"

Sharon's lips curled faintly. "We'll see," she murmured. "My daughter shares your dislike for being woken up in the morning."

As if he needed more evidence that Katie was the one who'd gotten all the common sense.

Sharon remained resting against the door for a few seconds, then walked back to the bed and sat down again. When her eyes came to meet his, her expression was serious. "You wanted to talk, yesterday in the study?" It had been phrased as a question, but it really wasn't, and Rusty felt relieved that she hadn't bought the ridiculous book excuse after all.

His eyes flickered to the volume he'd left abandoned on the nightstand, and Sharon's followed, a faint smile crossing her lips. And he almost-smiled back, because okay, that had been about the most transparent excuse ever.

"What's on your mind?" she asked again, and he let out an involuntary sigh because did she have a few hours? Or like… weeks?

"Rusty," she said softly when he once again failed to answer for a few seconds, and there was a sad look in her eyes, "if something's bothering you, I'd like you to tell me." (but like, where to even start?) "Honey…" Sharon prompted again, more anxiously, "I know that being here at a time like this can be…difficult, and I'm sorry if you've felt that I was unavailable…" Her voice wavered and Rusty's eyes widened in alarm.

"What? No, no, Sharon – nothing's bothering me, I swear," he swallowed hard, "I just wanted to see how you were – okay? I just… because I hadn't like, seen you in two days and – no, but like, that's fine," he hurried to add when a look of dismay crossed her face, "I've been just fine, I just… wanted to see if you were… how you were doing. Alright? I swear. That's it." He felt out of breath, but at least she looked a little less distressed; he stared at her in concern. "Sharon… I… is it okay," he asked unsurely, "that you… came here? Do you… feel better…?"

He didn't think he'd done a good job expressing the question, but she must've gotten it anyway; her gaze seemed to look through him for a few seconds, thoughtful, and then Sharon nodded slowly, her eyes closing for a brief moment. "I don't know," she admitted. "But being here… yes. It…is better, than not having been able to come."

And hearing her say that was enough to convince Rusty that it had all been worth it. The unease and the anxiety and the sleepless nights, the awkward encounters and even running off on his own, on Ricky's hare-brained plan, and whatever was waiting for him back home because of that, he was finally sure that it had all been worth it, after all.

And Sharon must've read those thoughts on his face, because she grimaced and shook her head, and right, she might've felt differently about the whole running away thing… "Rusty – "

And the door flung open again. " –worst brother ever," Katie grumbled as she stumbled in, bleary eyed and still in her pajamas, and she shuffled over to the bed and curled up next to Sharon, giving her mother a warm hug. "Sorry Mom, I didn't realize you were waiting for me, to eat," she murmured, "you could've woken me up."

This time, Rusty was grateful for the interruption, as Sharon smiled and rubbed Katie's shoulder and abandoned whatever she was planning to say about his unorthodox departure from L.A.. And part of him would've liked to get that out of the way, because not knowing how mad she was was almost worse…but another, bigger part, was just happy that he'd gotten to talk to Sharon for a little while, and didn't really want to end it on a bad note.

Fresh coffee cup in one hand, Andy opened the back door, only to belatedly notice that Sharon had been leaning against it from the other side. She lost her balance as her support vanished, and swayed dangerously, nearly toppling over from her seat at the top of the back steps.

"Sorry!" He reached out to catch her, but she'd steadied herself with one hand against the wooden exterior wall and even managed to salvage whatever was in the mug she held. "You alright? I'm sorry," he said again for good measure, and Sharon just gave him a slightly startled smile.

"Don't worry about it," she said after a second. "We all know not to lean against the door, this always happens. But, it's still very comfortable."

Or at least it had been, Andy thought guiltily, before he'd disturbed her position. She stood up and walked all the way down the steps, and he noticed that she was wearing old, flat shoes that didn't sink into the soft damp ground. He pulled the door shut again and descended the three back steps after her.

Sharon wrapped the old, thick woolen shawl tighter around herself, and looked at him with a questioning expression. "Did you need anything?"

He shook his head. "Just thought I'd enjoy the fresh air with my coffee," he said, holding up the cup. "Don't get a lot of crisp mountain breeze and pine scent back in L.A."

She smiled again and nodded; clearly she agreed, since she was out there with her own mug. "And the quiet," she added, and Andy acknowledged with a nod of his own.

"Yeah, definitely don't get a lot of that back home." He paused for a moment to consider if she was trying to hint that he should leave her alone, but she didn't look like she wanted him to go, so he just glanced over the grass shining with fresh dew and the soft knolls of earth and the thin wooded area in the distance, and said honestly: "It's beautiful out here."

At his shoulder, Sharon tilted her head slightly toward him, gazing over the green early fall landscape as well, and nodded a little sadly.

Andy let a few moments go by in comfortable silence, as he sipped from the hot coffee and watched her from the corner of his eye; there was still a tiredness to her movements and black circles under her eyes, but the painful tension of the previous two days had eased from her body language. Her fingers still shook slightly as she held her mug, though.

Sharon noticed him studying her, and she turned her head and gave him another soft smile. This time, he didn't feel bad about returning an openly searching look: "How are you feeling, Sharon? Did you manage to get some rest?"

She nodded slowly, and he knew that she must have been telling the truth, but she still looked as though she could use some more sleep. "I did, thank you." She didn't seem inclined to elaborate, falling back on courtesy instead. "Did you sleep well?"

And Andy nodded, even though it wasn't entirely true, because his bones were a little too old for air mattresses... but he thought he could manage without cracking his back around her and she'd never know. "Yeah." He breathed in, deeply. "I hadn't heard the rain on the roof at night in a while. Reminded me of when I was a kid. And the academy," he added, then murmured as an afterthought "although there used to be a leak in my dorm room ceiling, so those rainy nights definitely lost some of their charm…"

That earned him an almost-smile. "I used to love falling asleep to the sound of rain, too..."

Another few moments passed in silence, and Andy watched a flock of birds flying overhead. Then there was sudden movement behind the large tree at the far end of the yard, and he startled a little at the unexpected appearance of a large black dog.

Seeing his slight jump, Sharon followed the direction of his gaze, and she let out a small sigh, seeming entirely unsurprised.

"Pilot," she murmured when the dog had run all the way up to them, and she backed up slightly as though a little intimidated by the too-energetic sixty-pound behemoth. At Andy's questioning glance, she explained: "He's our neighbors', but he learned to wander over pretty much the day they got him, years ago. My father always –" her breath caught slightly, " – encouraged it, giving him treats whenever he showed up… not surprisingly, he now thinks he owns both yards."

The dog sniffed her hand, and she scratched behind his ear.

"Go home, Pilot." But the dog just did a confused little circle around the two of them, and then stopped to sniff her hand again. "Home. Go." Sharon patted his rump, and he waddled away for a few steps, then turned back to look at her. "Go, Pilot!"

The dog let out a bark.

Sharon flinched at the loud sound, and shushed him, but he just barked again and she hurried to catch up to him, because at least while he was back to nudging her thigh and sniffing her hands, he wasn't barking anymore.

"You are a bad dog," she whispered, ruffling the fur on his neck, "go home. Go." She held out a hand, pointing to what Andy assumed was the direction of their neighbor's house, but the dog just looked to where she was pointing, wagged his tail, then turned around to sniff the hem of Andy's pants.

Then he bounded over to the house, where he stopped at the back door and sniffled, let out a small whimper and then nuzzled the door.

Sharon grimaced. Andy felt for her, because it was obvious what the dog was looking for, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

The back door opened again, and Pilot let out a half-bark, half-whimper, and tried to jump up, managing to clumsily slide down two steps in his excitement.

"Hey there, buddy." The dog wagged his tail furiously as Ricky walked out onto the back steps, and Pilot leaned in happily to have his ear scratched with an ecstatic sort of loud growl. "Thought I heard you. I missed you too."

Twenty yards or so away, Sharon swallowed, and managed a wavering sort of smile. "Ricky was thirteen when our neighbors got Pilot," she explained. "They were best buddies for a good few summer vacations."

Andy watched the young man and the dog, and smiled a little to himself as he commented: "Looks like love."

After a few seconds, Ricky looked up and noticed them; he descended the three steps and headed over, keeping his pace slow enough to still be able to pet the dog's head as they walked. He greeted Andy and turned to Sharon:

"Everything okay, Mom? Sorry breakfast is taking so long... Katie's almost ready, and I think everyone else is up by now…" He smiled at her. "Julie was gonna set up breakfast in a little bit, but if you're hungry, we can – not you," (the dog had let out a loud bark at the word 'hungry', and Ricky patted his head) "you're always hungry."

Sharon let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm alright, honey. We can wait for everyone."

"I was gonna go see if I can get Julie's trunk open, in the meantime…?" He looked as though he were asking if she needed him for anything else, and Sharon nodded her silent assent:

"Do you know where grandpa's toolbox is?" At his wry look, her lips pressed together in another warm smile. "Alright, then. Good luck."

Ricky nodded in response, then patted his leg as he began to walk over to the tool shed.

"Come on, Pilot. Do you want to help me fix our cousin's misbehaving car…? Like we fixed our sister's car, when she backed into your doggy house…? Yeah, we didn't like her much the rest of that summer, did we?" The dog wagged his tail at Ricky's playful tone. "That's a good boy." Once again he smiled over his shoulder at Sharon, who was laughing silently at his antics. "I'll see you at breakfast."

Sharon followed him with a loving gaze until he disappeared into the shed to look for the toolbox.

Andy glanced over at her. "Good kid," he said quietly, and a fleeting smile passed her lips, and she nodded her thanks.

"He is."

Again she fell silent, gaze lost somewhere in the distance as she absently readjusted the shawl around her shoulders against the chilly wind. Mindful of her contemplative mood, Andy took another silent sip from his coffee, looking across the back yard, listening to the rustling leaves, smiling at a squirrel dancing around the bushes at the end of the yard, where the well-tended grass met the small patch of woods.

"Andy."

He turned his head to look at her.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on Rusty," Sharon said quietly, and he was a little surprised by the sudden change of topic but he went with it. "This can't have been easy for him, and I wasn't… " She sighed. "I don't think I fully realized how demanding it would be for him, coming here. I know having you here helped… thank you."

Andy shook his head. "Nothing to thank me for. And the kid – he gets it, believe me," he said honestly." He didn't need looking after."

At her involuntary grimace, he felt the need to add:

"Hey, you know he's not exactly in my good books after that stunt with the letters, but this time…" He sighed. "He just wants you to be okay."

Sharon nodded slowly. "I know," she said softly. Another few seconds passed in silence before she turned to him again. "If you don't mind, Andy, I'm going to check on my mother before breakfast."

"Not at all. I'll walk you back inside," he offered, and they entered the house together, Andy accompanying her all the way to the staircase before he directed himself to the kitchen to offer her niece his help with breakfast.

Breakfast was an overwhelming affair, but nowhere near as bad as it could've been, if say, they'd had it in the dining room, sitting down. Rusty remembered the last meal he'd had in any sort of official family setting (pretty much the only meal, really), and it had been dinner with Kris' parents and had gone pretty disastrously. He was left with a healthy fear of any such events…and the prospect of sharing a meal with all of Sharon's family at once was about a hundred times more intimidating.

But there was no way to avoid it, and so slightly after nine a.m. and after stalling as much as he could, he followed Katie downstairs and held out a little hope that he would magically turn invisible.

He didn't, but it wasn't all that terrible, either.

Julie had set up all sorts of food in the kitchen – the real kitchen, this time, which Rusty had only seen during the quick house tour on Thursday afternoon. It was about three times the size of the kitchenette, and there was a table in the corner and some bar stools by the counter, and that layout made breakfast slightly less awkward than it could've been. People just walked in whenever they were ready, helped themselves to some food from the ample spreads that Julie had put out, then picked a seat or even ate standing, as was the case with Julie and Ricky. There was no great amount of pressure to make conversation or wait for everyone to be seated or anything.

Still. Rusty was thrilled to find Lt. Flynn in the kitchen when he entered, and as soon as he'd gotten a chocolate chip muffin and a side of fried bacon, he retreated to the man's side. But he had to admit that the spotlight he'd been worried about wasn't there; people didn't seem to pay any particular attention to him at all. Julie kept pouring coffee and refilling water and juice pitchers as she ate, and Katie was debating one of her elderly great-uncles (Peter?) over French baked goods, and Ricky talked about semiconductors (whatever those were) with their other uncle, while also carrying plates and cups to the sink when they were empty.

Sharon and her sister were in the kitchen only sporadically, and Rusty assumed they were spending time with their mother, who hadn't come downstairs for breakfast. Sharon had come in for about five minutes, and had a glass of water and a piece of fruit while waiting for her niece to put together a plate of food for Elizabeth, which she'd then carried out of the kitchen along with a cup of tea.

(In passing, she'd glanced at his plate, and given him one of those looks and said 'that doesn't count as food', and he'd pointedly said 'neither does half a tangerine' because really! ... and then he'd ducked his head and mumbled an awkward apology and scooped some scrambled eggs out of the pan and there, that counted as food, right? And Sharon had smiled slightly and picked up a piece of toast from the breakfast tray she was holding and dropped it on his plate, before leaving the kitchen to take the food to her mother.)

Rusty was pretty sure he'd gotten a few extra looks from the rest of Sharon's family after her departure, so great, in addition to everything else, now they probably thought he didn't know how to feed himself, either... that wasn't embarrassing at all.

Stephanie had arrived a few minutes later, and she'd eaten some scrambled eggs and toast in somewhat of a hurry, then excused herself again and gone back upstairs with her coffee mug.

Paul and his son Jamie appeared around nine-thirty, and Sharon's brother had refused any food but accepted a cup of tea from Julie before going to his mother's room, as well. About ten minutes later, Sharon returned to the kitchen, and Rusty thought about how she and her siblings were obviously taking turns spending time with Elizabeth, and he was glad that they had each other… and he was doubly glad that Sharon had her kids, particularly when Katie persuaded her to have some more food, even if it was just a cup of yoghurt (which, gross – but whatever, it was food, he guessed. Kind of.).

Around ten, they heard a car pull up, and Mr. Martin and his wife Annie arrived, the elderly woman sparing everyone a few grave smiles and patting a few heads before she went upstairs. Her husband retreated to the parlor along with Sharon's two uncles, and Katie took them all a fresh batch of coffee, while Ricky and Paul's son stayed behind to clean the kitchen after breakfast. Soon, the house became quiet again, despite the great number of people. Somehow, everyone had found a place to be and an occupation – which was completely baffling to Rusty, who could still hardly figure out what to do with himself. Finally, he decided to go upstairs and tackle the whole homework thing again, even though it was the last thing he wanted… and who cared about the determinant method for coefficient matrices, anyway?

A/N: Yeesh, this was a long chapter. And I cut part of it off, too - it was originally ending in a cliffhanger of sorts. But then I remembered the amount of angst we are all already experiencing in anticipation of the season finale, so... no need to add more. Really.

And as promised, this story is slowly making its way out of the well of unending angst! At least I like to think it is. Writing this might have skewed my definitions of what angst is. We're also getting to some of those scenes-you'd-like-to-see that I've been asking you guys about over the past few chapters (Rusty meeting/interacting with more of Sharon's family, Sharon/Andy etc.). To those of you who mentioned a scene between Sharon and her brother, I'm still working on that, haven't forgotten, trying to see if I can fit one of their 'deleted scenes' into the mostly-written future chapters. Let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see (again, except for Sharon/Rusty, more of which is coming!) while we wrap up Sharon, Rusty and Andy's stay in Minnesota.

Again, thank you for reading :) I love hearing from you more than Rusty loves ignoring instructions!

(am I still carrying slight throttle-feels from the last episode? Perhaps.)