(OOC note: This story contains examples of abuse. In no way, shape or form do the writers involved condone such things. If you should find yourself in a situation that is abusive, mentally, physically, sexually or emotionally, please, get help. It's out there.)

This RhyDin place was certainly hard to get to, Alyson Ryan mused as she all but marched up the street towards her son's house, husband in tow. They'd barely had the news that the newly married couple were expecting twins before Alyson had packed them both up, demanded that George take a few days of leave, and set out a plan to get them to RhyDin to coo over the pair.

George kept his wife's hand curled into the crook of his elbow as they walked through the very interesting city. The city had an old fashioned feel to it, with it's cobblestoned streets and roughshod wooden and brick buildings. The people and creatures were far more surprising. It was like he was walking backstage during a school pageant. People dressed in Elizabethan style all the way down to punk rock influences with mohawks, piercings, tattoos and holey clothes. He wondered just how Stas fit into this place. "Alyson, slow down. You're going to roll your ankle and Stas won't be able to take you to see his clinic." He gave her a gentle smile, and patted her hand. "It's just up ahead, see, there's Amelia." And he waved from half way down the street to his daughter in law.

AJ was sweeping rainwater off the porch, jeans rolled up to her knees and a tank stretched over her bump, when she happened to glance up along the street. Her eyes widened. "Stas," she called in a resigned tone of voice to her husband inside. "When did you say your mom was gonna visit?"

Stas had just put a load of laundry into the dryer and was carrying a basket of clean clothes out to the living room to start folding them. He was barechested, just a pair of mauve scub pants on his lower half, and barefoot. "What, Amelia?" he called out through the open window. "She said after the babies were born." He smiled and waved out a towel with a snap.

"Yeah, well, looks like she changed her mind." AJ's tone of voice didn't change at all, but as she spoke, she was leaning on the hazel broom and waving down the street to the approaching Ryans, a wide smile on her face. "Might wanna get dressed, hotshot."

"Amelia!" Alyson waved her free hand wildly at the young woman waving back at them, her own smile huge and rather too excited for a woman of her age. Unlike her husband, Alyson hadn't been paying any attention at all to the city around them, too focused on finding Stas and Amelia and having a good nosey look around the place they'd made their home. She was practically bouncing with excitement as they walked towards the house.

"What do you mean, changed her mind?" Stas still didn't get it. Even when AJ told him to get dressed, he lounged in his scrubs, folding clothes. "It's too hot to be putting clothes on. I'm dressed enough to be decent. Not like I'm running around butt naked." He laughed and put the folded towel aside to pick up another one. "There's not neighbors for miles. I could go naked, you know."

Being dragged by the tiny woman at his side, George gave Amelia a friendly wave. As they got to the porch, he overheard his son. "Rather you didn't, son." His loud, baritone with a strong authoritative undertone to it. He released his wife's hand, then. He knew she was going to fly up the steps and poor Amelia better brace herself. Leaning on the railing, his foot casually placed on the top step, he smiled brightly and folded his arms over his chest.

Sure enough, that was exactly what Alyson did. As soon as her hand was freed, she was up those steps and flinging her arms around Amelia with a loud squeal of greeting. "Oh, my dear girl, you look positively radiant!" she exclaimed, hugging Amelia tightly around the neck before leaning back to run practised hands over the bump between them. Her voice lifted. "Stas Patrick Ryan, you get out here and say hello to your father!"

Laughing at George's response to Stas' comment, knowing it would have given her husband a minor heart attack, AJ wasn't ready at all for Hurricane Alyson, and staggered backwards under the hug, only just remembering to hug back as she gasped a little for breath. "Hi, Mrs Ryan," she laughed a bit as the woman pulled back, just about keeping herself from rolling her eyes as the inevitable bump love happened. She looked over at George with a smile. "Hi, Mr Ryan."

George followed the women in, after Stas' hasty retreat. He glanced around the living room, and approved of what he saw. It was cozy, and not overly done. Something he taught Stas as a child is that even though you may have more than your neighbor, it's not polite to flaunt it. He was glad to see that Stas had listened. When Stas appeared, dressed this time, he gave his son an approving nod and smile. He let the women chatter as he went to the couch to have a seat.

"Oh, what a lovely room!" Alyson was determined to fill the room with her presence it seemed, dropping AJ's arm almost immediately and scurrying around the space, exclaiming over various things set around the room. "I can see your hand in the comforts, Amelia - good for you! No man knows how to make a house a home without a woman's touch!" She laughed merrily to herself, caught a glimpse of Stas out of the corner of her eye and swooped down on him. "And don't you look handsome! Oh, I was the envy of the officer's mess when we showed around your wedding photos!"

From his perch on the couch, George watched the others around him. A man of few words, for the most part. "Very nice home, Amelia."

Laughing to herself at Alyson's enthusiasm, AJ was quick to excuse herself into the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it to boil. Once alone, she rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. So much for having a quiet couple of months. As soon as her parents found out the Ryans had been to visit, they could definitely expect another invasion. Setting up a tray, she wondered idly if she could feign an illness of some kind to keep them all away.

As AJ passed him, Stas swatted her behind. "Coward." Whispered over his shoulder to her. His tongue stuck out, too, until his mom swooped down.

George nodded in agreement with Alyson's declaration about the living space. Watching his daughter in law leave the room, he cringed slightly when Alyson swooped down on their son. He loved his wife to distraction, and he thought her open displays of affection and words of praise were over the top. Soft chuckle and he leaned forward to grab a magazine from atop the coffee table. He took one look at the cover and quickly placed it back down. No way he was going to read OB Today.

"Mom..." he groaned and shook his head. "You've not been boring Dad's friends with those pictures, and you didn't tell them the eating me story, did you?" He gave her a loving smile and moved to steer her towards his father.

Alyson allowed herself to be steered, plopping down onto the couch beside her husband and beaming up at her son. "Well, of course I did," she declared indignantly. "You can't expect me to tell the tale and leave out the best parts, can you?" She prodded his knee with a wide smile, that faltered slightly when she glanced at the kitchen. "I hope we haven't upset your Amelia by just dropping in like this."

A faint crash and a very quickly muffled curse were heard at this point from the woman in question, followed by the door to the kitchen quickly closing. AJ ran her hand under the cold tap, wincing, while her other hand stroked her bump, scolding her babies under her breath. Kicking the tray mommy is balancing on you is not a fun game.

Knowing Stas had everything in hand with his wife, Alyson was quick to pick up the broken fragments of crockery and dump them in the bin, overseeing her own husband's attempts at mopping with a critical eye. When he was done, she rooted around for another teapot, and set to making a fresh pot, keeping an eye on her son and Amelia at the same time. "You don't have to do everything yourself, you know," she told the mom-to-be. "Get used to asking for help before the little ones arrive, you'll be glad of it. Right, George?"

Helpless in the face of the combined Ryans' insistence, AJ allowed herself to be sat down on the chair, holding out her hand for Stas with a weary sigh. "Really, it's not worth all this fuss," she tried to insist. "I just burned my hand, that's all. It's nothing to get all worried about."

"Right." George nodded to Aly as he set the broom outside of the kitchen door to dry. "That was a lesson that Aly learned herself. She tried so hard to be the perfect wife, perfect mother, perfect everything, that she wore herself out. And I wasn't smart enough to see what it was doing to her." He walked over and gave his wife a warm hug. "Never want to see her crying like I did that day. Silly girl should have known she was already perfect in my eyes."

"You let us decide what is and isn't worth worrying about." Stas' mother had struck on something that he'd been meaning to bring up. "We're hiring a cook and a nanny." Stas nodded firmly, there was no argument to be had about it. He'd made up his mind. "I'll not have you wearing yourself out, Amelia." He applied the cream and set a loose bandage over it to keep it clean. "There." He gave the bandage a kiss and smiled at his wife. "All better soon."

"But these are my children, I don't want to hand them over to someone else to raise," AJ objected, with a stricken look up at Stas. They hadn't discussed hiring a nanny at all; it actually hurt to know that he didn't think she'd be able to cope at all. She turned that look onto Alyson. "Please tell me you understand, at least. I'm out-voted in this house on everything as it is."

Alyson was smiling up at George as he hugged her, but her smile was quick to fade at AJ's words. "Out-voted?" Her eyes turned to Stas sternly. "Have you been bullying your wife?" she demanded, in her most-no-nonsense tone of voice. "Forgotten already what I told you on your wedding day' Talk, don't make decisions before talking about it."

George raised a brow at his son's declarations and shook his head. His son was going to have to learn the hard way. Moving away from Aly, he took a seat at the kitchen table and folded his hands atop the table. He simply shook his head and lowered his chin to hide the grin.

"Our children, Amelia." Stas turned and gave his mom a look then shook his head. "We'd discussed the cook. The nanny is a good idea. I'm not asking you to hand them over for the nanny to raise. I'm just saying the nanny can be here to give you a hand with them when I can't be. Just looking into your eyes, Amelia, I can see that you're already scared and overwhelmed. How is this not a good idea?"

Alyson had moved over to George with a soft laugh for his teasing comment to her regarding their son, and was almost comfortably ensconced on her husband's lap when she heard the way her son spoke to his wife. Never mind Amelia's response, Alyson was all for leaping and boxing Stas' ears for that.

First AJ, then his mother. "Ow!" Stas moved quickly away from them both. "Listen, this is my house and if you can't understand that, then I don't know what to tell you. I never considered you as stupid or an airhead, Amelia. There are just some things a man has to make decisions about. Why can't you understand that?" He rubbed his ears and scowled at them all.

George knew better than to try to keep Aly in his lap. He felt sorry for his son. He knew the pains of growing up and trying to establish himself as a man, a husband, a lover. But the way Stas was going about it was all wrong. He spoke not a word, just folded his arms across the table and shook his head.

"Your house?" AJ's voice had lowered to a deathly hush - never a good sign. "Your house, and anyone who lives here is under your rule, right' Not allowed to have an opinion, or object to the way that you are rearranging my life without even consulting me?!" Her voice had risen to a yell as she spoke, but she drew herself under control for one final, scathingly quiet comment. "And you have the nerve to criticise my parents. You're just like them." She uttered a quiet apology to her in-laws and all but ran out of the kitchen.

"And you think breaking her spirit like that is going to make what you have an equal partnership?" Alyson took a step back and let out a frustrated sigh, moving to sit opposite her son. When she spoke again, it was quieter. "Stas, you have a beautiful, bright, loving wife. She doesn't know all about your profession, or much outside her own, I would imagine. Telling her to have a C-section ....to the unknowing ear, that is asking her to cut off a limb. You frightened her." She wasn't going to mention his description of her relationship with his father; that was none of his business.

"But it's just fine for her to break mine?" He didn't open his eyes. If he couldn't see the world, then it wasn't there. "I explained it to her, that it would be safer to schedule surgery and deliver the babies that way. She won't hear of it. She doesn't want any pain medication at all." He breathed deeply through his nose, and blew it right back out. "Mom, I love you, I do. But this is for Amelia and I to sort out. Please, I appreciate your attempt to smooth things over. But, truly, this is none of your business. We would have had this same argument, whether you or Dad were here or not."

"Then it's time you heard a bit of advice my mother gave me before I was married," Alyson nodded slowly. Stas was right; Amelia was right; they had to work this out together before it would come alright for them both. "It isn't what you say, it's how you say it. Instead of 'you will do this', try saying to her 'I would much rather you did this'. And always take the time to explain why. "She reached over and squeezed his hand. "It's hard at first, and your girl's in a mess with her emotions because of being pregnant, but it'll get easier. I promise, love."

When his mother spoke of his grandmother, blue eyes opened and he canted his head, listening. "Thanks, Mom." he gave her hand a squeeze and smiled at her, albeit forlornly. "I've seen patients with so many emotional problems. Never expected my wife to be like that. I just want her to be happy. Every step of the way, it's been a fight, lately. I don't know what to do. But I can't let myself turn into her little dummy boy who just smiles, nods and hands over the credit card. I can't do it, Mom."

Alyson smiled back at him. "I don't think she wants you to be," she assured him. "It's you she fell in love with, lad, not what she thought she could make of you. But don't you ever forget, she's almost completely lost right now. She went from being unloved and unwanted, living the life of luxury, to being so loved and so wanted ....I doubt she even knows her own self what she does and doesn't want. And because she loves you, she's trying to go along with everything you say, only to lash out and dig her heels in at the least little thing." She paused thoughtfully. "You're a good man, Stas. But you know this life, and how to cope with it. She needs you to teach her how, without looking down at her, or treating her as though she's an idiot. Do you understand?"

Stas sat up and stretched his arms over his head. When they were brought back down, he straightened his shirt. "I do understand, Mom. I just wish she did. I'm only looking out for her and the babies. I've spent too many years practicing and training to simply ignore all that I know. Trying to explain things to her and I get, from you, that I should stop being so reasonable." He shook his head then and rose from his chair. "Thank you, Mom." He walked around to give her a kiss on top of her head. "Don't worry, I'll take your advice." He felt beat down, but smiled for her, anyway. Just then his beeper went off, across the room. "Sorry, have to answer that." He strode over and picked up the little black object. He checked the screen, then picked up his phone to dial the number. "Doctor Ryan, how can I help you?"

"I don't want it to be one big fight," she said quietly, her voice a little hoarse from holding back tears. "I'm frightened enough, Mr Ryan, I don't want to be frightened of my husband, too. And Stas' temper does frighten me. There's no build up, he just snaps. I don't know how to tell if I'm going too far."

His eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't know Stas' temper was getting out of control, once again. "Amelia, if you do not feel safe, you have places you can go to. You can stay with us, or your parents. Might do Stas some good to think that he has lost you. Things are going too good for him, right now, and anything that darkens that bright horizon of his is going to be stamped down. The boy needs to learn a lesson. And it's not one I can teach him." How many of his troops ended up in the brig because their wives wouldn't leave an abusive situation ....He'd deal with Stas in good time. Right now, he had to find a way to keep his daughter in law, and grandchildren safe from his son's temper.

"I refuse to run away," she said stubbornly, looking up at him. "Mr Ryan, this is my home now. I made that choice, and I won't prove anyone who thinks we can't do this right. Stas would never hurt me, especially not when I'm carrying his children. I just need to make him listen to me, and I honestly don't know how to do that." She sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know how to be the woman he wants."

"Amelia, stop trying so hard to be the woman he wants. Be yourself. Forget what other people think. You've got to do right by yourself or you'll never be happy. Stas be damned." He shifted slightly and leaned to one side, his hand supporting his weight on the grass. "And if Stas were truly making you happy, would you be out here, trying to not cry in front of his old man?"

She stared at him for a long moment, then her face crumpled, hazel eyes growing blurry with tears as she shook her head. "No," she admitted with a soft sob. "But if I stand up for myself, we fight, and that makes me unhappy. If I don't stand up for myself, we don't fight, but I'm unhappy anyway. I just want him to be happy with me. If that means crying a bit now and then, then I will."

"Amelia.." he sighed and scooted closer to take her into his arms and guide her head to his shoulder. "Isn't your happiness important to you, at all?" Oh, Stas was going to get a right arse-kicking for what he'd put this girl through. Over her shoulder, he glanced up towards the house. Emotional and mental abuse was just as bad, if not worse, in his eyes than physical abuse. And that's what he saw his son doing.

"I am happy, I am," she tried to insist, but just dissolved into rather cleansing tears, clinging to her father-in-law as she sobbed. How could she even attempt to explain that it wasn't like this all the time, that they only seemed to argue over the babies and the pregnancy' The rest of the time, they were as happy as could be. The only problem was, all they ever seemed to talk about now was the babies and the pregnancy.

"It's alright." George murmured softly, and kept her held to his shoulder. He tried to keep his anger towards his son at a minimum, not wanting to give off any bad vibes towards her. At least, not any more than were already there. "I'm sorry, Amelia. I didn't raise Stas to be abusive. I don't know where he gets that from. But it's not right and you shouldn't have to give up yourself or your happiness for his or anybody else's sake."

She lifted her head from his shoulder, scrubbing the moisture from her eyes. "He isn't abusive," she objected shakily. "He's just frustrated with me because I'm stupid and I don't know what I'm doing half the time. I'd be the same if I was in his shoes, I know I would."

"I want to show you something." The way she put herself down, calling herself stupid, classic signs of abused wife syndrome. And he'd seen it far too many times. Peeling himself away from her, he got up, then offered his hand to help her to her feet. "Come with me. It's something I was working on when Aly decided a visit was in order." He smiled to her warmly and waited for her to get up.

"Amelia, that's what she said, too. That he wasn't always like that. Sometimes he snapped when she was being stupid. The only stupid thing the girl did was to stay with him for so long." He gently took the pictures from her and returned them to the folder. "I'm not saying Stas will be physically abusive, Amelia. But emotionally and mentally he is being abusive. I don't want to see you getting hurt. If you need to go, then go. He doesn't deserve you, nor does he have the right to treat you like he is."

"I'm sorry, are you actually telling me to leave your son?" AJ couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. "After only one month of being married" Mr Ryan, I'm pregnant, I can't possibly deal with this on my own. I love Stas; leaving him now, even if it's only for a little while ....it would tear him apart. I can't do that."

"I am, Amelia." He nodded somberly. "I know it'll tear him apart if you left. But you've got to realize that what is going on is not healthy. It's not healthy for you and the stress of an unhappy mother only makes things worse for the babies." He sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Be selfish, Amelia. Think of yourself for once. And if that doesn't work, think about the babies. Do you really want them around somebody who you can't be sure won't snap because they're crying too much' He's an OB, not a pediatrician."

Her hand went to the gentle swell of her belly, where the babies were kicking enthusiastically. George was right; as it was right now, she couldn't guarantee that Stas wouldn't snap if the children got too worrisome, or she was slow to help him deal with them because of her own weariness. But the fact that he was right didn't make it any easier to accept. And as much as she appreciated the offer from George to stay with them, she didn't want to take away Stas' support by utilising it herself. She looked up at her father-in-law. "You're right," she agreed quietly. "But I have to try, just once, to get him to understand. If it doesn't work, I'll go and stay at the Studios. There are apartments above them; Greg won't mind. And I won't be on my own."

He nodded to the compromise. "Alright." With a sigh, he closed the folder and went to go put it back into the suitcase. "The man's in jail right now, Amelia. His wife won't be getting hurt any longer." He tossed that out there, just in case AJ was worried about the woman. God knows, she had enough to worry about. Once the suitcase was closed, he left it where it was. He wasn't certain if he and Aly would be staying for the week they'd planned on. On one hand, he didn't want to leave AJ alone with Stas. On the other, he couldn't see how they could work things out with the both of them being there. He'd talk it over with Aly. "Come on, let's get you something to drink. I make a mean lemonade." He grinned and offered his hands to help her up.

She smiled, grateful he'd chosen to tell her the circumstances of the man and woman in those pictures, and let out a low laugh when he offered her lemonade. "You're on," she agreed, letting him pull her to her feet and leading him back into the house. "But only if you promise to actually let me drink it, and not pour it away because there's too much sugar in it."

"What?" He held the door open for her and gave her a quizzical look. "If you don't put a lot of sugar in it, you look like this." He sucked in his cheeks severely, giving her a fishy look. Then he popped his cheeks back out. "Makes no sense to waste perfectly good lemonade." He shook his head and led her inside.

George went to grab the lemons as the two walked out of the kitchen. He set to slicing and juicing them, talking to Aly over his shoulder. "I'm going to kill our son, Aly." He said it plainly, calmly, coldly. He was furious with Stas at the moment.

Alyson blinked. It wasn't like George to be quiet if he was angry; unless he was flaming mad, in which case whoever it was who had upset him should have at least one piece of furniture between them and him. "George, what?s happened?" she asked softly, moving over to stand beside him, one hand laying soothingly on his back.

He brought down the knife with a whack to the cutting board, slicing clean through the lemon. "He's pulling a Rodney Peters, Aly. He's got Amelia believing that she's stupid and doesn't know what?s good for her and what?s not. He's manipulating her to live out his fantasy of a perfect life, perfect wife, perfect family. Amelia's not stupid. She's a bright, loving, caring girl. And he's going to end up breaking her spirit. And he may do far worse, if it's not nipped in the bud."

"Then she's coming home with us," Alyson said, quiet but firm. "I love our son, but I won't stand by and let him hurt his wife. Or maybe we should take him home with us and beat some sense into him ourselves?" She leaned against the counter, watching her husband thoughtfully. Either could be a solution, but ultimately the only real solution would come from Stas and AJ themselves.

"I told her that she has a safe place with us, if she wanted to go. I think I'm going to put a call in to her father and let him know what?s going on." He nodded. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would have smiled at his wife's tenacity. He'd always admired that in her. "Dragging his skinny arse home is an idea. But Amelia wants to try to work it out, one more time, before doing anything drastic. So, we sit and wait to see what happens from here." He leaned over and kissed the tip of his wife's nose. "I'm sorry that I treated you like that, all those years ago. If I hadn't we'd have two sons right now, instead of one."

Alyson wrapped her arms around George and hugged him tightly. "Don't talk like that," she told him firmly, willing her voice not to break. After all these years, that particular wound was still raw. "What's done is done, and none of us can bring it back again. So we'll step in and stop it from happening again, that's all we can do. Even if it means breaking those two up. I won't see her lose Stas and those children, George. They're all she has, now."

He put down the knife and hugged her tightly. He, too, still felt the loss and the guilt for being the cause of it. "I love you, Aly. And we're going to make sure that Amelia has everything she ever needs. Even if it means kicking Stas' arse up around his shoulders. Maybe I should tell him the truth about what happened."

"Yes, maybe you should," she agreed, kissing his chin. "But first ....you seem to be making lemonade. Don't forget to add sugar, instead of salt this time." She flashed him an impish little grin, and stepped back to watch her husband at work.

George arrived at Stas' office with a full head of steam. The door was pounded upon. "Stas Patrick Ryan! Open this door at once before I knock it down!" He wasn't sure what his son had just done, but he knew that it wasn't a very good thing. While he understood his son's need to prove himself as a man, he knew it could be done without destroying the will and the spirit of a very lovely young lady. The fact that he'd grown fond of his daughter in law in the short amount of time that he's known her had Stas even more deep in the quiche. "Open this door!"

Stas had picked up his forceps and started to suture the practice dummy when his father began pounding on the door. He really didn't want to get another lecture on how to treat Amelia. Really, she was his wife and it was nobody's business what went on between them. If things were so horrible, then why did she wait until now to threaten to leave" And if she were leaving, what would be the point of another lecture" Putting the forceps down, he went to sit in his leatherbound chair. "It's open dad, no need to kick the door in."

George whipped the door open and flew into the room. "You listen to me, you poor excuse of a son. That girl out there is the best thing that's ever happened to you. What is your problem?" He was around the desk and shouting in his face. Spittle flew and struck Stas on the cheek, causing him to flinch.

"She's my wife, Dad. This is none of your business." Stas growled back at his father. Blue eyes flashed with anger. "What I say to her and how I deal with her is none of your concern, so back off!" Stas' chest was heaving and he stared at his father, as if daring him to do anything.

"Back off?" George shook his head. Then, out of right field, a fist landed directly on Stas' right eye. "How's that for backing off" How's that for not listening" You don't listen to her, don't care about her, how about I show you what it feels like, son?" Another fist flew, connecting with Stas' mouth. Blood gushed forth as knuckles and teeth sandwiched the tender skin and split it wide open.

Stas staggered back from the blows to his face, hands moving up to cover to keep from being hit again. "Dad! Stop!" He quickly moved away, no match for the much larger man. And, to his credit, George did back off. Besides the occasional butt warming when Stas was little, it was the first time he'd ever struck his son. And that he'd done it in anger had him feeling low. He sank into the chair on the opposite side of Stas' desk.

Stas found some tissue and was holding it to his lip to staunch the flow of blood. Already his turquoise shirt was stained from the blood that had dripped onto it. He sat in his leatherbound chair and simply stared at his father. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but he felt pretty confident that the older man's fists were not going to be used any longer.

"Let me tell you a story, son." George spoke softly, and from behind his hands. He was quaking, trying to regain control of himself. Stas cut him off quickly. "Dad, I don't want to hear..." But it was George that cut off Stas, and rather harshly. "I don't give a damn what you want or don't want. You're going to sit there and listen." There was an authoritative tone, strong as steel, in George's voice that had Stas sitting back and nodding silently.

"Do you remember the day your brother was born, son?" George had put his hands down, and was leaning on the edge of Stas' desk, fingers curled around the softly curved wood. Stas simply nodded, it wasn't a memory that he clung to. It was there, but he'd kept it locked away.

"See, I was a young officer, had the perfect life, perfect car, and your mother, she was the perfect wife. Everything was perfect. Just. Perfect. I was giving orders and they were obeyed, at work and at home. Just like you, Stas, I had it all. And I really liked that feeling. I bet you do, too."

All Stas could do was sit, listen and nod. He didn't know where his father was going with this.

George continued. "I had no idea that your mother was miserable. And she was, Stas. I made all of the decisions, I laid down the law, and there was no questioning my orders. It was simple as that. When your mother did try to voice her opinion, I let her know that if she were to have an opinion, I'd give it to her."

Stas was shocked. Never had he heard his father speak unkindly to his mother, much less give her orders. And his father consulted with his mother on everything! It was one of the things that Stas hated about their relationship. Everything was decided in a committee.

"You came along, Stas. And life was even better. I had a son who was going to be a soldier, follow along in my footsteps, great military career and traditions. Oh yes, I had it all planned out for you. Why do you think you were dressed in camoflage when you were brought home from the hospital" Your mother hated that outfit. She had a tiny pair of jeans and a tshirt that she'd made herself. I threw them away. Said my son is not going to be a civilian wearing civilian clothes." George sighed then and shook his head.

Stas continued to stare in disbelief. "Dad, what?s this got to do with my brother" Or Amelia?" He spoke quietly though. Eventually his father would get to the point.

George looked up and glowered at Stas. "Don't you see, son' You're acting the same way towards Amelia. Telling her what will happen. What will be done. Do you ever give her the option of thinking for herself" She has a brain! She has a wonderful personality and you're snuffing it out like an used cigar." George closed his eyes and took a huge breath. "By the time your mother was pregnant with your brother, things had deteriorated badly between us. You were too young to remember. We fought, nearly every day. She tried so hard to keep from losing herself, and I was the one snuffing her out. Don't you see, son, what you're doing to Amelia?" George dreaded telling the rest of the story.

Stas' eyes were wide and shining with tears. "Dad, please finish the story." He had a sinking feeling he knew what was coming next. George lowered his head with a slight nod. His voice became quiet as he leaned back and laced his fingers together. Stas could see the nailbeds turning white from the pressure his father was placing on his fingertips.

"We were fighting that day. Your mother had enough and she said she was leaving. Taking you and going to stay with her parents. She couldn't stand the pressure of being the perfect wife, perfect mother, perfect hostess. She wasn't perfect and was exhausted trying to be. I yelled at her, told her that if she wanted to go, that was perfectly fine with me. That I would find a replacement for her within a month. Do you know how badly that hurt her?" George closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek.

Stas was holding his breath, wanting to hear the rest. The tear that rolled down his father's cheek was something he'd never seen before, and it scared Stas. A cold chill went through him and he hugged his arms around himself. "Go on, Dad." He spoke quietly, encouragingly. Tears had begun to well up in his own eyes, seeing the parallels all too clearly.

"I left," George continued. "While she was up in our room crying, I left for the Officer's Club. Got good and drunk, too. I had no idea that our fight, the stress of it, would throw her into premature labor. When I got home, there was an ambulance there. They were putting your mother into it. You were running around, crying, covered in blood. Your brother..." George couldn't continue at this point, his head lowered in shame and his hands covered his face. His shoulders shook in silent sobs.

Stas' jaw popped open, hearing the rest of the story. He had vague memories of that day. His mother had stumbled into his bedroom, grasping her rounded stomach and falling to her knees. Blood, so much blood. Stas calling the MP's for help, and running to his mom, doing whatever he could to try to calm her down. His brother came, not breathing. So tiny that he took up both of Stas' tiny eight year old hands. Stas stared down at those hands now, then up at his father. Blue eyes were wide, and awash with tears. "Oh God, what?ve I done?" He stared at his father for a long time. "What did we do?"

They both sat in the silence of the room, not knowing what to do or say next. Finally, George nodded and rose to his feet. "I lost it all, Stas. I don't want to see that happen to you." Stas was quick to rise to his feet and followed his father out into the living room. They both wiped their eyes and exchanged a hug. "Do the right thing, son." And Stas replied. "If she'll let me."

Starting Over

Well, this was it. After the truly disastrous, and yet strangely helpful, visit of Stas' parents, AJ had made the decision that she needed to get away for a couple of days. They both needed to be away from each other, to work through what needed to be said and done without the constant worry of arguments and such. So she had headed for her parents, in San Diego, to let her mother and Marguerite fuss over her, and let her father see that being married hadn't really changed her all that much anyway.

Stas wasn't happy about it, but he understood. At least, she thought he did; he hadn't argued very much at all when she'd told him what she'd had planned. He'd seen her off, even helped her pack her bag for the week she would be staying. But the kiss he'd given her when she actually left ....it had felt as though he didn't expect to see her ever again. And that was not going to happen. It couldn't, she was already on her way back.

Her mother, of course, had been overjoyed to see her - whether it was a true reaction, or the actress in her, AJ didn't know; the jury was still out on that one - and she'd been quickly settled into her redecorated room. Yes, Lillian and Richard had redecorated their daughter's room, rendering it suitable accomodations for a married couple and making the walk-in closet a nursery for the babies. They'd been a little surprised not to find Stas in attendance, but after a little creative explanation, the matter had been dropped.

And she'd had a very relaxing few days. To her surprise, AJ had found herself settling comfortably into talking to her mother without argument or tension, not flinching away from her father - which she had expected after their last meeting. No, it had really felt like she was coming home; to the home it had never really been when she was a child. So ....one family upset down, one to go.

She hadn't given Stas an exact time for when she would return, saying in a week or so, and hadn't spoken to him since, though she had made it very clear that she would definitely be coming home. She knew he was off work today, and found herself wondering if he would be pleased to see her ....or if the arguments would just begin again now she was back. Bag slung over her shoulder, summer dress flapping around her ankles, AJ smiled cheerily for the cab driver and mounted the porch steps, ready to face her husband again.

After his parents had left, and then seeing AJ off, Stas sat alone in the empty house. He couldn't help but wonder if this was the way it was going to be. Him, alone. If so, he had nobody but himself to blame for it. He'd had a good, hard cry, and slept for most of the first day that he was alone. The day after, he threw himself into work. His usual smile and warm demeanor and bedside manner were severely dimmed. Nobody mentioned it, but he could see it in the eyes of the patients, the nurses, they all wondered what was going on with Dr. Ryan. Still, he pressed on.

Alone again in the house, Stas thought he was going to go crazy without Amelia. Everywhere he looked, he saw her face, heard her laugh. He missed her something terrible. Many times he picked up his cell phone to give her a call, only to put the phone back down. He wasn't sure she even wanted to hear from him.

On that last day, he was sitting out in the garden, watching butterflies dance around the tomato plants, their crimson globes becoming heavier and nearly ready for harvesting. He wanted Amelia to come home.

That familiar voice, so sweet in his ears, even with the single monosyllabic greeting, brought an instant smile to Stas' lips. A silent prayer of thanks hastily given as he jumped up from the lounger. He was to her in an instant, taking her into his arms. "Oh God, Amelia. I missed you so much."

She hadn't known what to expect, whether he would even respond to her quiet greeting. His smile was more than she could have hoped for. AJ all but fell into his arms, holding on tightly. She didn't ever want to go away again without him. Her face pressed into his neck, and she kissed the skin there, needing to feel him, to let him know without words how much she had missed him, too. Inside her, the babies kicked at them both, evidently just as pleased by the embrace as she was. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I went away ..."

He felt the kicks and he laughed softly. He was so happy to feel that movement. He had worried so much about her and the twins while she was away. But now she was back and everything was going to be alright, once again. He pressed kisses to her cheeks, then moved his hands to hold her face between them. "I am sorry I pushed you away, Amelia. So sorry." He searched her eyes before leaning his head down to kiss her.

She gazed up at him, a world of forgiven hurt and relieved longing in her eyes in that moment before his lips touched hers. It had felt, in those days without him, as though she was missing a part of herself, and with that kiss, everything fell back into place. She felt whole again. "Don't apologise," she said softly as they parted. "Don't ....don't even think about it again. It's done, it's over. We'll be better at it this time around."

How brave she sounded and he admired her so much for it. "Yes, Amelia, so much better this time around." He hugged her close again, laying his head down atop her head. "Thank you, for this second chance." He whispered, eyes closed and lips pressing soft kisses to the top of her head. "I was going crazy without you here."

She nestled into him with a soft sigh that told him how happy she was to be home, with him once again. "You were going crazy?" She snorted with quiet laughter as her hands stroked gently up and down his back. "I think if I'd stayed with my mother any longer, I'd have been certifiable. The woman has gone insanely baby-happy."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the image. "That would have been something to see." He pulled back and kissed the tip of her nose. All was well with the world once again and he held a goofy grin on his face for it. "Now that you're home, do you need to rest' The trip must have been exhausting."

"Oh, trust me, you'll see it before long," AJ smiled, scrunching her nose under his lips. "She's even redecorated my room, just for us." She squeezed her arms around his waist, up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm not tired. I want to spend time with my husband. You know what I missed most' Just looking up and knowing you were there. Felt like something was missing the whole time."

He received the kiss and gave one back. "I missed hearing your voice, your laugh. The house was so empty without you, Amelia. Before you, it didn't bother me. But now that I've found you, I never want to go back to that empty house, ever again." He searched her face and then smiled. "Then let me cook something for you. Anything you'd like. Just name it."

"Anything," she smiled back to him. Lord, she'd missed this ....even before she'd gone away for just a couple of days, she'd been missing the simple affection they seemed to have mislaid since their marriage. "Just wiggle that skinny ass at me while you're cooking. I need a good laugh." Hazel eyes shone teasingly, and for the first time in a while, there wasn't any hint of concern that he might not take the teasing well. She trusted him not to snap at her for having a sense of humour, which is more than she had done before his father had decided to have at him.

Business done, AJ found herself looking herself in the eye in the mirror. The worst was over now, she knew; they seemed to have reconnected. Whether it would last, only time would tell. The next big hurdle was ....well ....She couldn't even admit it to herself that she was terrified about what may or may not happen. She wanted it to; God knew she really did. So maybe she should make that clear" Or not, she didn't want to pressure him into anything. So she compromised. A quick adjustment of her dress - a few of the tiny buttons undone at her cleavage - a shake of her hair from its ponytail down around her shoulders, and she nodded to herself. Hopefully, Stas should be able to spot the invitation, even if he did nothing about it.

Stas had busied himself, soup poured into a pan and being warmed gently over a low heat, so as not ot burn. His rear shook as he stirred the pot. He hummed softly, the chicken was in a small sautee pan on another burner, and the aroma of the seasoned meat was beginning to waft through the kitchen.

He smiled, happily. He thought his heart would burst with how Amelia and himself were back on the same level. Now, how to broach that one thing that really connected them. He pondered the situation for a moment. The spoon was lifted from the soup, tapped on the side of the pan and then sat to rest on the spoon holder. Quickly, his hands moved to his shorts. Down they came, and his shirt with it. Both were tossed to the side. If Amelia didn't get that hint, then something was definitely wrong.

Startled by the sight of the Naked Chef a la RhyDin in the kitchen, AJ stopped in the doorway, her eyes wide as she stared at Stas' back. Okay, obviously he was on the same page as her. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Uh ....did you spill something, darlin'?" she managed to ask, her amusement clear in her voice as she grinned at him from the doorway.

He turned as he heard her voice and folded his arms over his chest. He started to lean back, then jumped as the stove top was just a bit too warm on his backside. "Nope."

He then sauntered over to her. His hands went to where the dress was opened up. Taking a deep breath, he hoped that she wouldn't be frightened by his next move. The material was taken into his fists and he pulled his hands apart quickly. Buttons popped and pinged on the tile floor. "Much better." He grinned as he looked into her ample cleavage. Lowering his head, he kissed her skin lovingly.

She backed up automatically as he sauntered towards her, her cheeks flushing at his boldness. One hand reached out to close the door, not really wanting Marie to see what she thought was coming. The ripping open of her dress made her jump violently with a gasp, but it was hardly a gasp of fear, followed as it was by a soft moan at the feel of his lips on her. Her hands lifted to him, stroking tentatively against his arms as her head fell back against the wall with a dull thud. "Much," she agreed in a breathless whisper.

"Oh yes, much better." He pulled away only to reach down and pick her up. Carrying her across his chest, cradling her, he turned sideways to leave the kitchen. Lunch be damned. There was something much more important and pressing to do. He carried her, kissing her deeply, across the house and into their bedroom.

Promises and words of love passed between them as they found that physical connection once again, giving of themselves to one another until finally they lay together, sated and ever so slightly exhausted, side by side in their no longer quite so precarious marriage bed.

"Has been your home, from the moment you stepped into it." He quietly wrapped his arm around her when she moved in. "I know, Amelia. I've a lot to atone for." He sighed softly and closed his eyes. "I have a lot to atone for."

"Not just you," she murmured back to him. "We both made mistakes, and we both have a lot to make up to each other. And I've only got one thing that I need you to do for me ....for both of us." She drew in a deep breath, stroking her knuckles against his chest. "No more making arbitrary decisions about anything that effects me without giving me a chance to talk to you about them. Without getting angry or walking away."

"Agreed." He nodded with a soft sigh. He had no demands, no requests. He was simply overjoyed that she were back. "Discussions before decisions." He turned his head to look at her. "As it should have always been."

She felt his head turn, and her own turned to face him, her eyes soft and calm. "Tell me," she asked softly. "Tell me why you get so angry when I don't go along with everything you say." It wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation, but it had to be done. They both needed to say what had to be said, get the apologies and the anger out of the way and forgotten before they could carry on.

He sighed and turned his gaze back up towards the ceiling. It was much easier for him to talk this way. "I just want the best for you, for us, for our family. When you don't go along with what I've asked for, it felt like you were jabbing me with a stick. Like you didn't want to go along with it, just to be stubborn. And that hurt, Amelia. It made me wonder if I tell the children they can't have a candy before dinner that you'll turn around and give it to them anyway."

"There's a difference between wanting the best for us, and wanting to be in control of every little detail of our lives," she reminded him gently. Her own gaze lifted to the ceiling, though her fingers never ceased their soft stroking against his skin. She needed him to know she meant none of this as an accusation. "Since the moment you knew I was pregnant, that's what you have been doing. You've been monitoring what I eat, what I wear, where I go, what I do. You even spoke to my boss, and convinced him to bully me into not being at the studio so much. I didn't know how to tell you how cornered I felt, so I just started fighting every little thing you came out with. It felt like it was the only way I could get a little bit of my own life back under my control."

"I'm sorry." He sighed softly, his chest heaving up and down slowly. "I just want everything to be perfect, Amelia. For you, for our children. I could see just how everything was to be. I never intended to be a control freak. And when you fought back, rebelled against anything I said, that picture faded a bit more. It scared me. I had horrible images of you going out while I was at work and partying until the wee hours. Pregnant and all. Of you flirting with other guys..." He shook his head. "I never thought you'd cheat on me. But when you started to fight back, I didn't know what to think. And I'm sorry I thought those terrible things. Just made it worse." He gently squeezed her hand, then brought it up to his lips to kiss the back of her knuckles.

She was a little shocked to hear that, but was quick to quell the immediate reaction that welled up inside her, to hold in the hurt that he had lost faith in her so quickly. It would not help; the honesty, however painful, would do more good for them in the long run.

She smiled sadly, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks with loving fingertips. "Yes, you will," she told him gently. "But I won't lie down and take it when it happens again. We're going to be honest with each other; even if it seems like a really small and petty thing, we'll share it. No more bottling it all up until it bursts and does real damage. And if we manage to survive the first year of having these two under our feet without killing each other, then we'll know we're gonna last." Her smile brightened as she guided his hand to her bump, where little thumps were attesting to the handful their firstborns were going to be.

"Open and honest." He nodded and then smiled when his hand was bumped against. "Promise you won't get mad when I do this?" He scoot down on the bed and lay his head next to her belly. "Shhh now you two. Mommy and Daddy are talking. Quiet now. Rest, little ones, rest."

AJ watched as Stas spoke softly to the children in her womb, rolling her eyes with a laugh as the kicking died down. "Darlin', as long as they shut up when you tell them, you can do that however much you like," she giggled softly.

He placed two kisses to her belly and then rubbed gently. "Just hope that it works when they're born." He smiled up at her and reached to gently touch her face. "I do love you, Amelia. And you really have nothing to atone for. You were only doing what you needed to defend yourself."

She nestled her cheek into his hand, turning her face to kiss his palm lovingly. "There's a lot of coulda, shoulda, woulda," she murmured quietly, opening her eyes to look into his warmly. "After this, I won't mention it ever again. It's over, done with. We've got a busy life ahead of us, and I fully intend to be right here with you when it's over."

"Are you planning a suicide pact?" He laughed softly and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. "We may not mention it, but don't ever forget what happened, Amelia. Those that ignore the past are doomed to repeat it."

"Did I say anything about forgetting?" She smiled affectionately, her own hand moving to curl against his cheek. "I love you, and I think it's time I told you what love is to me." She leaned down, kissing the tip of his nose softly. "It's me giving you the power to destroy me completely ....and trusting you not to. You can shout and scream as much as you like, and it won't touch me. But if you break my trust ....I don't know what happens then. I don't want to lose you."

He'd never really thought about love. It was something that just was there. You knew it was there, or you didn't. Either way, it wasn't something he'd thought about. And her words had given him a thoughtful look. "I almost broke you, Amelia. You gave me too much power." He sighed and bit his lip for a brief moment. "I've never given myself over to anybody. I think it's about time I did."

She shook her head, her smile still gentle and warm as she cradled his face in her hands. "Don't do it until you're ready to," she told him softly. "Or you'll hate me for it in the end."

"I am ready, Amelia." He whispered and moved to take her face between his hands. "And I am giving my life, to you." He searched her hazel eyes, a very somber expression on his face. "Be gentle."

"Always," she whispered tenderly to him, leaning in to catch his lips with hers. Promises had been made, promises she meant to keep whether she'd spoken them or not. A heart is a delicate organ to hold in the palm of your hand, and once crushed, it is all but irreparable. And she had no intention of ever letting her will hurt him, ever again.

((Another collaboration between AJ Ryan and Stas Ryan.))