Duke left shortly after Audrey, claiming a need to clean up the kitchen. Nathan had never known Duke to leave anything for honest work, but he could understand why he'd want to flee the heaviness of the understanding that had passed between them.

And then there were two.

His fully grown son studied him over a few forlorn pieces of pancake. It was almost enough to send him back into the kitchen with Duke. "Well, this is still awkward."

He was hoping it would make the kid crack a smile. But Nathan rarely got what he hoped for.

"Look, I'm not some orphan who grew up dreaming of the perfect parents." Nathan couldn't help but think of Audrey's rare vulnerability when she had told him of that very fantasy. "I had a normal, happy childhood. The Cogans raised me as their own. I was twenty-five before they told me about the woman who showed up out of the blue and gave me to them."

"Sarah." The reverence with which he said her name was automatic. The realization of how lonely and scared she must have been, unwed and pregnant – because of him – came a few moments later. But the shame was counteracted by the sight of the man sitting next to him. The man they'd been searching for before Nathan had ever gone to the 1950's. As if he and Sarah had been inevitable. He wasn't sure he liked that. But if he was bound to her, throughout the ages, would he really mind the sacrifice of free will?

"Yeah. Sarah." James reached back to rub his neck, and Nathan recognized the gesture he couldn't kick even though he didn't feel it. "They said all she'd asked was that I come looking for her in 1983. Not earlier. Not later. Had to be 1983. And I had a perfectly fine life in Colorado, but the whole thing was so mysterious, I couldn't not go." He started to laugh, but it was a bitter sound that caught in his throat. "Some mystery all right. Now that's all I have left. I don't need parents. I just want some answers."

Nathan recognized the broken desperation, and he hated to see it in someone he was going to love. He also knew it wasn't easy to dispel – especially since there would be no miraculous return of everything his son missed. But he'd never had much use for patronizing. "We don't have many of those. But we could use help finding some."

Their eyes locked, and Nathan couldn't help cataloging every bit of Audrey and himself that he could find. He had a son, and that son was almost his own age, and a former version of Audrey was his mother, and that was all staggering. But what he found more striking than any similarity in gestures or features was that while James was willing to let him off the hook for parenting he didn't want to take the out.

"What year is it now?" James looked away first and Nathan let him retreat.

"2012."

"Guess it isn't likely my folks are still alive."

It hurt to hear him refer to someone else as his parents, and that was ridiculous and illogical but it was still true. "June Cogan is. Least she was about a year ago."

Hope and confusion made him look younger. A boy on the brink of manhood, needing his father's guidance. He would have given it. Always. "Why do you know that?"

"I went to Colorado to look for a way to bring you and Audrey back. But I didn't learn anything. Alzheimer's has her pretty far gone. She had no idea what I was talking about. Except when I mentioned you."

Nathan didn't tell him how she was convinced he was dead. Whatever conclusions he'd drawn – or hadn't – couldn't really be worse than reality.

"I could get you a ticket to fly out and see her. We're not likely to solve this any time soon. I'm sure Audrey would go with you. Or I could, if you want."

But they hadn't established such level of intimacy. The gesture was too much, too soon.

"And my father?"

It was like a stab to the gut, in a time when he could feel it.

Nathan swallowed, tried not to let the pain show. Not his place to make the kid feel guilty. He'd lived his life, and Nathan hadn't been there. Hadn't been born yet.

"Died a couple years ago. Seems like they were running a safe house for the Troubled, which makes me think they did know something about all this. But I don't know what."

James didn't respond, and the silence quickly turned suffocating. Nathan had never been one for empty words but he felt the strongest need to say something. "They seemed like good people. I'm glad they were there for you, and I'm sorry that you've lost them."

"How many people did Arla kill?" James interrupted, and the sudden change of topic made Nathan wish the silence would return.

He hadn't thought of her in a long while, but the mention of her name brought it all back – that final, terrible, almost unsolved case. The revulsion when they'd found the vats of skin and mass grave. The grief at the deaths that hadn't been anonymous. The terror every time she'd attacked or taken Audrey. How distraught Audrey had been as Rosalyn's death. How that had been when they'd started to unravel. He couldn't help but wonder how things would have been different if he'd shown up for pancakes and found Audrey waiting for him like they'd planned. If they would have been able to face the truth about the Hunter together or whether she still would have pushed him away when she learned her days were numbered.

His son shouldn't have to carry the guilt of all of that. "I'm not sure you really want—"

"Don't bullshit me! I didn't ask Lu-Audrey because I didn't want her to sugarcoat it—"

"I'm not sure that she would." Audrey had lost more to the Bolt-Gun Killer than he had, and she was as protective as a black bear.

"Then I will ask her."

"Thirteen," he answered. Audrey didn't need to relive that horror, and his son deserved to hear the truth so he could start to move past it. "That we found, anyway. Could have been more. And a couple were friends."

"Why?" Nathan's heart broke at the way the word seemed to strangle James. But he needed to be honest.

"Best we can figure, she was trying to get to you."

James turned away, clutching both hands to his head, and Nathan let him be even though he could see his shoulders shake with not so silent sobs. Nathan had learned at a young age that this world was a cruel place, but knowing that didn't make it any easier.

When James turned back his eyes were red but his tears had dried.

"There's one thing I can't understand. Supernatural barn? Sure. People who can control the weather or make your nightmares come to life – why not? I saw a lot of weird stuff spending time with Lucy. There are more things in heaven and earth than can be seen in your philosophy."

"Didn't take you for a Shakespeare guy."

James' response started shaky, but gathered vehemence, like a snowball rolling down a hill. "Arla was an English teacher. She used to make me read Hamlet with her when she was writing her lesson plans." He closed his eyes for a moment before he continued. "We grew up together. I've known her since we were four. I can't pinpoint the moment I fell in love with her. It just became … implied. We got married a couple years out of high school. And we were happy. When I told her I had to go to Maine she finished the school year and then she followed me. She wasn't even from Haven. I don't understand how the town did this to her. I don't understand how the woman I loved could kill so many people – and take their skins. If she was always a monster how could I not have seen it?"

In that instant he wished James had ignored Sarah's plea and never come to Haven. Even if it meant he never knew that he had a son, Nathan would have saved him from the truth of this ugly town if he could.

"That's what the Troubles do. They take normal, decent people and make them capable of despicable things. I've seen it time and time again. And it's usually not even the Troubled person's fault, but people die anyway. You can't blame yourself. Maybe we can't even blame her."

"Then who do we blame?"

"Your mother will find out." Maybe it was weird to call Audrey that when they still hadn't talked about Sarah, but he couldn't help it. The thought flooded him with warmth just like her hand on his face. He'd been too numb for too long not to take what was offered.

He looked down, giving James a chance to reason that out without scrutiny. When he spoke again he was far more composed, with the curiosity of an FBI agent dropped into a bat-shit crazy town which all the locals claimed was normal. "You say the Troubles change people. What did they do to you?"

Audrey never let him shy from the hard questions. She thought to ask the things no one else cared to know. And here she was, shining out of their son's eyes and Nathan had never thought himself a lucky man but this was something he'd never seen coming.

"I was eight the first time the Troubles came. At first I thought I was invincible. Nothing hurt. I could play as hard as I wanted. Didn't matter if I broke bones. But it didn't take long to learn that people are afraid of what they don't understand. The other kids made sure to remind me I was different. Pulled pranks. Called me names. The adults were worse, talking about sin and curses. And once the novelty wore off I missed what I'd always taken for granted. A damp breeze off the beach. The warmth of my mother's chicken noodle soup. I got sullen, and tried to stay away from people, and then they went away. But I was terrified that they would come back – that I would go back to being a freak. It was always there, the feeling that there was something wrong with me that I couldn't fix. That the Rev was right – that I was being punished by God for something I hadn't even done. Then they did come back, and it was worse than I remembered. Every day it felt like I was dying from the outside in. That I was already a corpse, but no one had bothered to put me in a coffin. At first I was so angry. But that faded. All my emotions did. There was no use railing against fate, or whatever caused the Troubles. There was no use in anything. But I kept getting up, going to work, because all I could do was hold on and hope that maybe they'd go away again, and I wouldn't still be alive when they came back. And then your mother came, and she saved me."

"Because you could feel her." There was something disapproving and protective in his tone. Nathan was glad for it; Haven wasn't safe, and he would need help looking after Audrey. But he'd come to terms with this issue long ago. Much as he craved her touch, that wasn't the reason he loved her.

"No. I didn't know that for months. It was because she felt awful about slamming my fingers in the car door even after I told her it didn't hurt. I was cocky and dismissive and she didn't let me get away with it. She saw people affected by the Troubles and she had no idea how any of this was possible but she didn't judge them – she helped them. She cared. She liked the weirdness everyone else shied away from. I bought her a ridiculous outfit as a joke and she wore it just to make me smile. I'd forgotten that I could still do that. That I could have a reason to laugh. When she's around I forget how different I am. She reminds me how to live. And it's like you said. I don't know when I fell in love with her. I just am."

He wasn't sure why he could tell this to his son – practically a stranger – when he'd never admitted nearly as much to Audrey. But he needed his son to understand that there was nothing manipulative in his feelings. Audrey would never think so poorly of him, even if he had questioned himself. But James had to know.

"And you think that's enough to keep her here?"

He had to think that. That theory was the only thing holding him together. What he hadn't mentioned was life post Audrey had been infinitely worse than life before her. He wasn't strong enough to bear it a second time.

"It was enough to bring her back. I won't let her go again."

"I'll help. Any way I can." He shrugged, self deprecating. "Not like I have anything better to do."

Nathan reached out and covered one of the hands resting on the bar with his own. Warmth flooded through his instantly, though he tried not to let it show. This man was a piece of him, and that was a wonder. He was exceedingly grateful that he'd inherited Audrey's affliction instead of his own.

"You may not need parents. But if you need friends, Audrey and I are here."

The corner of James' mouth twitched upwards. "I'll keep that in mind."

A flash interrupted the moment, and Nathan turned to find Audrey standing a few feet away with her phone raised. His heart seemed to turn in his chest, and it took all his self control not to rush over and kiss her just to convince himself that she was actually here.

Instead he smirked at her, spurred by the reminder of their early days when their relationship had been filled with banter and teasing and far less heartbreak. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope. You wanted photos and that's what you're going to get. Lots and lots of photos. So many you can make me a collage."

"Ha ha."

"You still owe me a tour of your house. I want to see these decoupage masterpieces. Then maybe you can teach me how to golf."

"Just because you don't have any hobbies besides reading vampire love stories."

James cleared his throat. "So … cameras got smaller in thirty years."

"Yeah." Nathan watched in delight as she floundered for a recovery. "This is a phone, actually. And no one uses film anymore." Audrey handed the phone over and gave a brief demonstration. While James was distracted she turned to Nathan.

"Film?" he mouthed.

"Shut up," she mouthed back, smacking him on the shoulder.

He caught her hand and pulled her closer, resigning himself to nothing more than pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear she must have missed when she pulled her hair into a ponytail. Making out in front of their son probably wouldn't win them any points.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." Her soft exhale was hardly convincing, but she was dressed as no-nonsense Agent Parker and he understood the way she used work as a shield.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Though she didn't leap into his arms she didn't shrug it off either. "It's just a lot, you know? We'll talk about it later."

He'd make sure they did. But right now they had the world to face.

Audrey stepped away and retrieved her phone from James. "We have to go to the Herald, and then this one should probably stop playing hooky and check in at the station. You're welcome to come."

"I think I need some time to process all of this."

"Oh. That's fine. You can stay at my apartment and we'll be in touch, I guess."

"I'll get him situated," Duke offered, emerging once more from the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up and a dishcloth tossed over his shoulder. "Cell phone. Motel room. General understanding of the past few decades. Say hello to the Teagues for me. I gotta say, I'm not sure how I feel about Vince right now. I'm glad he didn't let anyone with that tattoo kill me, but I still feel kind of betrayed."

"Call if you run into any trouble," Nathan advised.

"Why would we run into any trouble?"

"Just call. And be careful."

"Yes Chief. Look at me, taking orders from the police. I'm like a new man. Remember when I wouldn't even talk to cops?"

Rolling his eyes, Nathan followed Audrey out of the Grey Gull.

Author's Note: I know, it's been awhile since Nathan and Audrey had any alone time. There's plenty coming, I promise. But a surprising number of people asked for some Nathan/James interaction. And those pesky Troubles, getting in the way of our favorite couple. It's because I started thinking about plot instead of just fluff. But don't worry, the plot is mostly a fluff vehicle.

Reviews are always greatly appreciated!