"Yeah well, he's not here, keep looking," Greg went to shut the door, "and don't come back here again or I'll knock your heads off. We don't like unexpected visitors,"

"We're looking for a man named James. James Wilson. You haven't seen him?" the woman begged, "we're really worried about him, he's not been responding to any of our messages or calls,"

"I'm sure that if your James wants to talk to or see you that he will get in contact," Greg growled, "now get the fuck off of my property," as he raised the baseball bat.

"Greg? Who's at the door? And why are you threatening them with a metal baseball bat?" James called out from the lounge room, coming to inspect the cause of the commotion.

"That's our James! He is here! We know his voice! Get out of the way!" the man shouted, pushing the door.

Greg stared him down, shoving the door back, "you step one foot into my home and you're going to fucking regret it. We have kids here; don't think I won't protect them in any way I see fit as their father," to which James approached and peered out the front door, rolling his eyes and turning to walk away, just before pushing on the door and closing it behind them.

The couple exchanged confused glances and turned to see if there were another way to get inside, they walked around to the side of the house and peered through the ten-foot-tall side chain link fence to see a young boy playing with a dog. "Hey boy," they called out, and Tyson turned to look at them, as he cautiously approached the fence and narrowed his eyes, "can you let us in?" they begged.

"Uh-uh," the boy said, crossing his arms and staring at the couple, "I'm not allowed to let strangers in. Plus, Daddy and Papa would give me a smack on the bottom if I did. You gotta go. Papa and Daddy don't like strangers coming here. 'Specially not daddy,"

"Is Daddy the guy who opened the front door?" Samuel, James' father, asked "holding the baseball bat?"

"Maybe, Daddy has short hair and a beard, Papa has long hair, like a lady," Tyson frowned.

"Is one of them called James?" Samuel questioned and Tyson looked at them suspiciously.

"Papa's name is James. But Daddy calls him Jimmy sometimes,"

"We're your grandparents. Let us in boy," Samuel said, as he began fiddling with and tugging on the heavy-duty chain and massive padlock on the gate to enter the backyard of the house.

"No, you're not. Granddad has a moustache, and he has blonde hair. You don't," Tyson took a step back and then screamed at the top of his lungs, "Daddy! Papa! There are strangers at the gate, they're trying to get in! They're saying that they're my grandparents… but they aren't Granddad!" and within seconds, the front screen door smashed open and the man they'd just met was storming across the front porch and across the driveway towards them.

"I told you to leave my fucking kids alone!" came a bellow, followed by two shots shooting up into the sky; and the couple turned to see that the angry man who'd answered the door was now fuming, seemingly out of control and now holding a Glock in one hand, "get away from my fucking kid!" he screamed, storming over and just about thrusting Samuel through the fence, shoving the gun under his chin, "don't test me to see what I'll do! I'll blow your fucking brains out of your skull, right here and right now; you filthy paedo! You wanna try and talk to my kid without us here, lure him out or try and sneak in. You'll learn the consequences!" Greg screamed, "we told you to leave politely, and I'll only say it once more before things get messy! Get off of our property! We don't know you! I suggest that you leave and never step foot here again!" James came out following Greg, holding the metal baseball bat over his shoulder, seeming just as ready to attack on instinct.

"James, we thought we'd never see you again!" his mother weakly mentioned, holding out her arms that James stayed away from, although he lowered the bat to his side.

"You need to go," James stated shakily, his entire body shaking from the adrenaline; "I don't want to see you, I've moved on with my life, you need to move on with yours too. We don't want, or like, unexpected, unknown visitors, and we don't welcome strangers,"

"We're really sorry for barging in like this, and we're even more sorry for upsetting your friend so much," she whispered, as James gently pulled Greg away from his father, Greg lowering the gun to his side, as he stepped back to just behind James, while still watching them through cautious eyes, clearly ready to jump into action to protect his family if things escalated to that stage; "James, we're not 'unknowns'; we just want to reconnect,"

"I've got to think about it. But this isn't the time or place," James stated mutely, "I'll see you guys later. You really need to leave; because he's not bluffing when it comes to protecting the children, especially against strangers,"

"We're not strangers, James," his mother whispered, "we're your parents and we love you no matter what, even if you're single. Even if we don't get grandkids… although did you ever get… tested, you know… in case you're impotent?"

James flashed bright red at the suggestion, "I'm not impotent. I can have sex just fine. And you are strangers to Greg,"

"These are your parents?" Greg questioned suspiciously, watching James' parents eyeing the gun with suspicion and fear.

"Yeah," James nodded, and Greg stepped back again, stating that it was James' decision to do what he pleased. "Well, you're here now," James sighed awkwardly, "why don't you come in?"

The four of them sat awkwardly around the living room on the couches; "I'm sure I know you from somewhere," Samuel stared Greg up and down.

"I'm Greg. I've been your son's best friend for over twenty years. We've met a couple of times," Greg added.

"And the two of you just live here, as single men, in Detroit, with a couple of kids and a dog? If I didn't know any better, then…" Samuel stopped and stared at a large, framed photograph of Greg and James on their wedding day, standing and facing together with their hands interlocked, in wedding suits clearly on a makeshift wedding alter, staring up together watching the rain falling down onto them with a flash of lightning in the background. It was then that he noticed the wedding bands on the hands of both men; "you're gay?" Samuel spat at James, who flinched and pulled away.

"Yeah… I didn't really realise myself until a couple of years ago, but yeah… Greg and I are gay, and married, we have adopted two children; and we live an incredibly happy life together. I've never been happier than I have been with Greg," James mumbled.

"So that boy, outside… that is Greg's son?" Alana, James' mother, questioned.

Greg shook his head, "no, that's my cousin's son, who we adopted him and his younger sister. My cousin passed away a few months before we moved to Detroit. We have full, legal, guardianship custody of these kids as legally dictated in court, just in case you had anything in mind,"

"Why have you grown your hair out so long, James? You look a little bit… feminine," Alana asked quietly reaching out to touch it as James flashed red in shame again and pulled away.

"I like it, actually," Greg grinned, "it's easier to play with and pull that way… you know, in bed,"

"Greg," James mumbled, "why don't you go and get us a drink, and check on Charlie's nap… make sure that she's still asleep?"

"As you wish, your highness," Greg mumbled, getting up and walking away.

"James, it's not too late to repent and leave this lifestyle, this… strange life that you've created for yourself," Samuel pointed out and James looked at him with an expression mixed of horror and shock.

"I'm absolutely perfectly happy here. Greg and I have a wonderful life. Nobody could ever make me as happy as he does. We are perfect for each other. Case in point," James pointed up to the wedding photos; "our wedding day was absolutely nothing like what we had planned initially, and the day of was so stressful and everything that could go wrong, did go wrong… My wedding day was the happiest day of my life, alongside the day we were granted full custody of Tyson and Charlie. I was one hundred times happier on that wedding day than I ever was at any of my other weddings; even if on paper they were perfect; because for the first time I was marrying my best friend, and someone who I truly love," James pointed out.

"But what about your religion, James? I notice that there's a crucifix up on the wall there, why would you turn your back on your religion in that way?" Samuel added.

"Firstly, this isn't our house. Technically it belongs to Greg's uncle Rob, who comes and goes… he lives here part time, and the kids were baptised as Catholic, Greg's side of the family who live in Michigan are Catholic, just mostly non-practicing. Secondly, it doesn't mean nearly as much to me as it does to you," James pointed out, with a half shrug.

"Did Greg even take your last name?" Alana questioned, to which James just shook his head.

"No… we both changed our names. We're Gallaghers now. It's the last name of the kids so it just makes sense for us. Neither of us felt any particular connection to our surnames, so we might as well have just made it simpler for us," James shrugged.

"Gallagher… that sounds a bit Irish," Samuel added, and James nodded his head.

"That's because it is," James added, starting to feel a little annoyed, as Tyson came bounding into the room, with Shady behind him, "hey buddy," James smiled at the young boy; who avoided contact with James' parents entirely, and instead crawled up next to James on the couch.

"You know that being married to Greg will be very different than just being friends with him, you know that right, James?" Alana began.

"I'm well aware, mom, we've been together romantically for a long time. Getting married didn't fundamentally change anything about our relationship. Greg is still who he always has been, and so am I, and we mutually accept that. The only thing that a romantic relationship added to our relationship as it had been for over twenty years beforehand was some extra closeness… along with… added benefits of course," James' eyes sparkled, knowing that this would only serve to infuriate his father.

"If you insist," Alana sighed, before going on with a question that James had doubted she would have the gall to ask, "this may seem like an inappropriate question, but are Greg and the boy cut?" and James felt what he could've mistaken as a lightning bolt flash before his eyes.

"That is a super inappropriate question," James mumbled, feeling the fury rise through him. "It isn't any of your business for either of you. I'd rather that you didn't picture whether that's the case for my husband or son. It's nobody else's business what's between the legs or my son or husband,"

"Come on, James, I'm your mother," Alana pressured and James just shook his head in disgust, Tyson looked up curiously and James mouthed 'don't ask' so Tyson decided; in seeing the seriousness in James' eyes along with the scene that he had just witnessed unfolding outside, that it wouldn't be worth pursuing such a question.

"Hey Greg, could I have a beer?" Samuel called out towards the kitchen doorway.

"Nope, no alcohol in this house, whatsoever," Greg yelled back before following up with "James, what… what are you all discussing?"

"You don't want to know," James replied.

"The cultural importance of circumcision," Alana called back, interrupting James who rested his head in his hand, and massaged his temples, muttering under his breath that they should've just kept that part of the conversation between them as it wasn't about to continue under any circumstances.

"The- what?" Greg yelled back, walking back into the room, "why is Tyson in here? He doesn't need to hear this shit. Tyson, go play," Greg instructed, and Tyson got up off the couch and awkwardly crept past James' parents, when Samuel reached out and grabbed Tyson by the arm who immediately just froze in place, staring at Greg looking for some kind of help to get out of this situation. Samuel began tugging on Tyson's arm, trying to pull him closer to himself.

"Dad, you better let him go," James warned immediately, "Greg doesn't play when it comes to the kids," when Samuel looked up and saw he was staring back at the business end of the gun, pushed up right between his eyebrows, he automatically, instinctively, held his hands up, letting Tyson go in the process, who hid behind Greg who patted him gently on the shoulder, just before Tyson ran outside, once Greg had lowered the gun; before walking around and sitting down next to James.

"Do you point that gun at everyone who comes in here? At every visitor? Do you not realise how irresponsible and stupid that is?" Alana asked in wide-eyed shock.

"The gun only gets pointed when the visitors begin asking questions about our son's penis and then immediately grab and physically restrain him; then yeah, the gun is coming out," James answered curtly, "we're protecting our family. We will do whatever is necessary to protect our family. And that family doesn't include the two of you,"

"James, don't be so dramatic. You've always been such a drama Queen," Alana rolled her eyes, "relatives don't hurt relatives like that. It's not the kid's fault that he's stuck in this strange 'family' dynamic. We would never hurt children, you know that; especially in... that way. You boys are just being so paranoid about everything,"

"We don't know that. We don't know you, I have seen you less than five times in over twenty years. That isn't family. Hell, our euchre buddies are more of family than you guys! At least they came to our wedding! We're just protecting our family," James snapped, nearly getting up out of his seat.

"This isn't a family," Samuel sneered, "this is a bastardisation of a family. This is two confused men who couldn't find a woman to stay with them long term, so they jumped in bed together, who then ran away from their world, adopted two unwanted children and now hide away in their little house in Detroit and chase away any visitors who come, including family, by pointing guns in their faces or," he turned to James, "waving baseball bats. This isn't a family. Although I never would have expected anything different from you, James. You were always the pathetic let down of the family,"

"Hey!" Greg snapped, "leave him the hell alone! You want to talk to someone, then you talk to me!"

"Fine, I will," Samuel replied, "you turned our son into a faggot like yourself, you destroyed his life, and you dragged him out here so that you could trap him and drag him down into the awful spiral of destruction that you have created. You destroyed any chance we had to have grandchildren from James, you changed his last name, ruined and completely destructed his identity, and brought him down as low as possible. You turned him into a disgusting bottom feeder like yourself; you disgust me. People like you should be lined up and shot,"

With that, the front door started jiggling, and then opened, and Rob walked in, staggering slightly, "saved by the bell, saved by Rob's timing, that's a first. Where have you been lately, Rob?" James asked turning his head, while simultaneously trying to hold back his emotions.

"Staying with a lady friend. Who the hell are these people?" Rob asked, closing the door behind himself, "you've not replaced me, have you?"

"I don't think anyone could ever replace you, Rob," James chuckled, as Rob approached them, looking both of the Wilson's up and down with glazed over eyes.

"Fucking rich pricks these two are. Who the hell are they?" Rob slurred, and James mentioned that they were his parents, "well, okay then, when are they leaving? The house is damned crowded enough as it is,"

Charlie came running up and jumped up into Rob's arms, "so you don't trust us, James, but you trust this. I'm guessing that you are 'Uncle Rob'? Do you know that these two faggots were pulling weapons on us?" Alana stated.

"You were trying to break into our back yard and trying to lure Tyson out, and then you grabbed and dragged him towards your lap!" Greg snapped back.

"I am his grandmother, and Samuel is his grandfather! Apparently, that's what goes for family definitions in this house. You all live here and are related to one another, somehow, it's not our fault you all live in this bubble of paranoia- for whatever reason!" Alana snapped back.

"I am goddamn Robert Gallagher, uncle of Gregory and James, and grandfather of the kids, I wear my name with goddamn pride. They absolutely fucking should've pulled guns and bats on you. I'd have done the same, just be glad that it wasn't me pulling the gun or you'd have already met your maker, they have more self-control than me when it comes to protecting the kids. If someone tries to hurt one of us, they are trying to hurt all of us, and we all step in and protect each other. That's the Gallagher way, isn't it, boys? And as for the two of them, sure, they might be faggots, queers, gays… whatever they like to call each other- but at the end of the day, they're fucking Gallaghers and that's all that matters! They're my boys, and they take great care of me, and the kids… I don't give a shit which of them sucks the other's dick, or who takes it up the asshole, they're my boys and that's all that fucking matters," Rob ranted, interrupting the argument, before handing Charlie to James. "I'm actually not feeling all that great, excuse me your Royal Highness assholes, I'm going to go up to bed. See yourselves out, you fucking posh assholes," as he staggered over to the stairs and stumbled up them.

"What a disgusting, filthy man," Samuel shook his head, "James, it doesn't have to be like this; you can leave and have a normal life,"

James chuckled darkly and shook his head, "actually dad, it does have to be like this, because this is what I want. This is the life that I want; with Greg, and the kids, and even Uncle Rob. This is the life that we chose, and we are so happy with it. If you can't accept us for who we are, then I guess I'll just have to ask you to leave," and with that, Alana and Samuel didn't put up much of a fight and left the house. Alana had to hold back tears as she heard the main door click shut, a couple of locks click locked, and a chain rattling to lock the door. All Alana could feel was immense regret and guilt for things said and done that it now felt too late to repair, and her son had now figuratively and literally locked them out of his house, and his life.