James walked back into the hotel room in a polar opposite mood to how he left it, "Greg? Buddy, we have to get ready to go," James called out as he entered the room; "Greg?"

"I'm in the bedroom," came the reply, and James walked through to see Greg lying limply on top of the duvet, "you sound a lot chirpier," Greg pointed out.

"Yeah, your mom came and had a chat to me and talked me down from the mood I was in. You don't sound better, what's going on?" James sat down on the bed and gently rubbed Greg's back, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah… everything will be fine," Greg mumbled, "what did mom want?"

"We didn't talk about anything that happened or anything that was said in that argument, if that's what you're concerned about. She pretty much just told me that she considers me a part of the family, she loves me regardless of anything that happens, I told her about the BPD, even about the suicide attempt, she gave me a big hug and called me 'son' and otherwise talked about how well suited you and I are to each other," James answered.

Greg rolled onto his back, "this isn't how I pictured this holiday going at all. I knew that dad would be pissed if he found out; but I wasn't expecting us to nearly get murdered, I wasn't expecting Lisa to tell my mother about all the abuse, and I really wasn't expecting you to do what you did," Greg looked over at James, "you really terrified me, you know? I know that it was a lapse in judgment, etc, but I was really scared, James. I thought that you were going to die, I really, really did. You looked dead. Your skin was cold, clammy and turning a sickening ashen blue, I could hardly feel your pulse; it was so weak and irregular… the rescue breaths that Lisa was giving you they didn't seem to be working, and you were in respiratory distress. I didn't expect to ever be able to see you again, James. I really didn't, I was convinced that this was going to be it. And for it to have been my own pills, James, I… I don't know if I can risk that happening again. It was only because I was having a panic attack that woke Lisa up, and she was trying to wake you up to help, and you wouldn't wake up James, you were just there, not moving, I couldn't even see your chest moving. You wouldn't wake up, James," tears started pooling in and then rolling out of Greg's eyes.

"It's okay, I'm here now, everything is okay now. That's never going to happen again," James tried to console.

"How do you know?" Greg sniffled, "how do you know that it won't happen again? Because… because statistically, it probably will,"

"We don't live off statistics, Greg. We're the exceptional ones who it isn't a part of us. Statistics are for average people, and we're far from average," James continued.

"James, if this happens again, you know that I can't stay with you, right? Even if you did survive another attempt, I would be so terrified of it setting a doomed precedent that we would have to break up. I can't be there if you kill yourself, James, I just can't. I can't watch you die; I can't do that. You have to promise me, and you have to keep that promise," Greg admitted.

"I promise, from now on, no suicide from either of us, okay?" James smiled, and then laid down next to Greg and held his hand, and they simply lay there for several minutes before James got up and started packing up what little items they had taken out, what few items they even had left after most of their clothes had to be left at the ranch and were never to be seen again.

"Come on, it's time to go," James helped Greg stand up and walk out when Lisa knocked ever so hesitantly on the hotel room door, "time to get going," James flashed a smile at both of them, and Greg limped out after him, clearly in a great deal of pain, as they slowly made their way down to the waiting truck, nobody daring to comment on why Greg's cheeks were tearstained, or his eyes watering from the conversation that he'd just had with James. But for now, everything is fine, and it will stay fine so long as he doesn't fall back into the habit of self-harming again.

They reached the truck parked down in the basement of the hotel, and Lisa looked at her motley menagerie and sighed, "so who is sitting where?"

"I think Greg should sit in the front," James pointed out, "he's not exactly feeling particularly well; I think his leg is giving him a fair bit of trouble today. I want him to be more comfortable,"

"I'm happy to drive for a while today, Lisa," Blythe offered, "surely you must feel like getting a break from it all,"

"That works for me," James shrugged, and Greg just nodded his reply and opened the passenger side door and climbed in; looking genuinely miserable and James climbed in behind him.

"I'm not sure about that, about someone else driving my truck and being stuck in the cramped back seat" Lisa muttered, clearly annoyed.

"Well would you rather put the cripple or the old lady in the cramped backseat instead of yourself?" James questioned, challenging her, and with a sigh of resignation, Lisa passed the keys on to Blythe and walked around, climbing in besides James, and Blythe in the front as they headed out into the increasingly snowy weather; with Lisa's backseat driving becoming more and more invasive and bossy.

"Lisa, my mom lived here for a long time, she knows how to drive a truck in the snow," Greg growled, "can you back off a bit, please? I have a terrible headache,"

"I'm sorry your Royal Highness," Lisa snapped back, "but this is my truck. I don't want any damage to happen to it,"

"And now you understand why you essentially had to drive the entirety of the way here. Because nobody wanted to put up with your bullshit!" Greg sniped back, to which James just placed his hand on Greg's shoulder as though to say that's enough, Greg, that's enough.

"You two are circling each other like a couple of dogs in the park. You need to stop before one of you gets an eye bitten out," James muttered, "if you both don't shut it then I might have to slip both of you a sedative,"

Blythe laughed, "don't think that he's joking mom, it would be far from the first time that one of us have knowingly drugged the other in order to get something that we want. Although in fairness, it's essentially always me who does the drugging," Greg grinned.

"Oh Greg," Blythe sighed, shaking her head, "what are we going to do with you sometimes?"

Greg was just glad that his mom seemed to not be anymore keen on bringing up the mention of his father and uncle molesting him than Greg was keen to speak about it, which suited him just fine. I'm not going to interrupt her delusional way of thinking to only make myself feel better… and I really don't think that it would, anyway. If she's happy to live in a world where none of this ever happened, who am I to take that away from her?

James was slowly started to feel like he's dozing off as he yawned heavily and leaned back against the seat; James wasn't particularly comfortable with sitting beside Lisa; not after what he'd said, and not after what she'd said spilling Greg's beans and sharing his secrets without his permission, not letting Greg talk about these things on his own timeline. James undid his seatbelt and proceeded to curl up along the backseat of the truck, his feet tucked up under him, so he wasn't encroaching on Lisa's seat, and tried to doze off; "James! What on Earth do you think you're doing? It's snowing!" Blythe yelled, "sit up and put your seatbelt on!" and with a heavy sigh, James did just that.

"You've got better control over them than I do," Lisa joked, "can I hire you on as someone to work for me specifically to sort out and control Greg and James in the workplace?"

"I'm sure that they're not that bad, dear. They're just strong willed, you need to be patient, but firm with them," Blythe continued, "and then you'll have them eating putty right out of your hand,"

"I don't know about that," Lisa muttered, "do you think that'd work in situations like last month when Greg tried to impersonate me to get a credit card?"

"He did what?" Blythe was shocked and glared over at her son who just responded to Lisa to please shut the hell up.

Within a couple of hours, Blythe and Greg's phones started blowing up with calls and text messages from both John and Henry, "I guess they got those restraining orders served to them," Blythe muttered under her breath, "and I guess this will probably continue. Greg, shut down my phone for me,"

By the time that they arrived at their first stop to spend the night; everyone was beyond exhausted, "mom," Greg muttered, "James and I don't have any clothes. We had to leave all of it behind at the ranch when we left… and I'm guessing that you don't have any either,"

"I know," Blythe sighed, "just put your same clothes back on in the morning, and we'll head to Walmart and buy everyone some fresh clothes. But I'm too tired to do that now,"

Greg just nodded, "okay," and when they reached the hotel where Lisa had managed to find a room that had an empty couple of bedrooms, one with a Queen bed, and the other with two single twin beds.

"A bed for our Queens?" Blythe laughed and Greg just rolled his eyes and James laughed somewhat awkwardly.