Author's Note: AU & angsty. -DMH

"Sammy! Sammy! Do you want a spanking?" Mercedes yelled as she jumped up from the park bench and marched across the playground to snatch up the tiny green-eyed boy that was yanking on a girl's ponytails. "Stop being a bully! You know better than that!"

Sammy's little golden face suddenly flamed with red as it scrunched up in preparation for a tantrum, but Mercedes was not even entertaining it. "Little boy, I have had enough of you today. We are going home!"

"Mommy no!" bellowed the four year old when Mercedes picked him up. She ignored the hot tears and snot that were staining her t-shirt and running down her neck and waved goodbye to her friend Tina who was still sitting on the bench, watching her own children play on the swings. She took Sammy to the car and buckled him in. He was just reaching the end of his tantrum when they got home, reduced to a few sniffles when she opened the back door and helped him unbuckle his seatbelt. "I'm sorry, mommy," he said in the sweetest, softest voice she would ever hear. She smiled at her baby and wiped his wet cheeks before planting a kiss on each.

"Come on, little boy. I know you're hungry after all those tears."

Sammy was playing with his Legos in the living room and she had just taken some chicken out the freezer when the doorbell rang. With a frown and a sigh, she shuffled out of the kitchen to peer through the front door's peephole. "The fuck?" She opened the door, but kept the chain locked. "What do you want?"

Green eyes narrowed at the chain and the barely opened door. "Seriously?"

"What do you want, Sam?" She looked him up and down slowly. "You get sick of trying to make people like you, again?"

"Can I see my son?" he asked and her eyes widened in surprise.

"You know good and well not to just come over whenever you feel like it."

"Then maybe you should answer my calls."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and started to close the door again. "Bye."

"Let me see my son," he growled, wedging the toe of his boot between the door and its frame before it could shut completely. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"Check your tone."

"You check yours. I just came to see Sammy, not to fight with you."

"Are you sober?"

He flexed his jaw and nodded. "Yes."

She looked him up and down a final time then nodded. He pulled his boot back, so she quickly shut the door and unfastened the chain. When she opened the door to let him in, the frown on her face had deepened into a scowl. He stepped around her into the foyer, glancing around as if looking for anything to have changed since the last time he was there.

He looked tired. He always looked tired. Like he was working too hard to keep up with himself. Maybe it was the way he held his lanky body, slightly slumping, or the premature baggage he carried under his eyes. The circles weren't as heavy as they had been last time, she noticed. Not as dark.

"Where is he? I brought him a present." He lifted a bag she hadn't noticed before.

"Living room."

He nodded and disappeared into the next room, humming the Superman theme. A happy shout of "Daddy!" rang out into the hall, so she bit her lip and went back into the kitchen.

"Sammy! Come and eat!" she called out half an hour later when the food was finished. She smiled at how quickly her baby dashed into the room. He was seated at the table before she had even set his plate down. She patted his mop of dark brown curls and told him, "Eat all your green beans and you can have two cookies for dessert. Alright?"

He nodded and proceeded to stuff his face with the vegetables. She walked to the sink and was still smiling even as she started scrubbing dishes. Until a tall shadow fell over her.

"Do I get to come 'n eat?"

She didn't even bother glancing over her shoulder. That must have bothered him because suddenly, he was crowding her against the sink, his front to her back, his arms wrapped around her middle, his cheek on top of her hair. She tensed in his hold, but then deliberately relaxed herself. Because her baby was in the room. "Yeah Sam. Get a plate."

"Tell me how you've been."

"Busy. Go get some food," she said softly. She didn't want to be in his arms again. She had been so unsuspecting; it wasn't fair to have both her tears itching to get out and her heart suddenly racing up to her throat. She didn't want to play this game. Not in front of her son.

"I missed you," he had the nerve to breathe into her ear.

"Stop it." She dropped the dish she was holding into the sink abruptly and reached for a towel to dry her hands. "You don't get to…"

"I can't say that I missed you?"

"Where have you been?" she asked, turning slightly to look at his face.

"I sent you money," he whispered.

"Where have you been? Who were you with?" He didn't answer, just dipped his head a bit and caught the corner of her mouth with his lips. She melted pathetically. Disgustingly. Allowed him to turn her in his arms. Let him tease her lips open, taste her tongue.

The sound of fork dropping jolted her back into reality and she yanked herself away from him to look at her little boy. Sammy was still sitting at the table and he was looking at her with wide eyes. "Mommy, I dropped my fork."

Her throat grew tight, so she nodded instead of trying to say something. Sam got to the fork first, so she just opened a drawer a pulled out a new one. "Need more rice, Sammy?"

He shook his head, wild curls flying everywhere. Sam reached out to stroke them with a smile. His large hand ruffled that hair, sent their son's giggles into the air. Sam sat to watch their son eat, so she made him a plate and then made hers.

He stayed until she tucked Sammy in that night. Even read him to sleep with a comic book. Superman, of course. Superman was Sammy's favorite. He had the pajamas, he had the posters and he had the action figures. All thanks to his dad. His Superman.

Not hers, though. Superman ain't saving shit.

Sam stayed to tuck his son in and then he climbed into her bed that night.

"Do you still love me?" he asked between soft kisses. "Yeah? You do?"

It almost felt like making love. That's how gentle he was. All fingertips and grazing lips.

"Don't cry," he said much later as he leaned against the headboard. He was looking down at her, playing with the ends of her hair as she curled up against his chest.

"Shut up."

"Can we just lay here without you starting something? I mean, I just busted a nut a minute ago. God."

She sat up and glared at him. "Don't talk to me like that! Not after what we just did."

"Why? Because it was important?" He sighed as soon as he said it and was reaching for her as soon as more tears brimmed her eyes.

"Get out. Get out!" Before she could yank herself away, he grabbed her by the wrists and tugged her onto his lap. "Stop it."

"I'm not doing anything. I'm sorry." He pressed the words to her lips, softly and sweetly over and over until she relaxed in his arms again. "I'm sorry. I love you," he said even though she shook her head.

"Stop it," she muttered when his mouth travelled to her neck. How easy would it be to tell him that she didn't love him? To lie and tell him that she didn't want him? She moaned for him instead. "You drive me crazy."

"You drive me crazy, too. God, baby," he growled, rolling them over until he was on top of her. He sucked a brand onto her neck and slipped inside her again. She wrapped herself around him, arms tight around his shoulders, legs clamped around his hips, begging with her body for him to save her. Save her from him. She felt like she was a little girl again, seeking comfort from the hands that just disciplined her.

He only ran away and hid behind bottles and women when she reminded him to be himself with her, so she let this man pretend to not love her because tugging on her pigtails was the only way he knew.