He's nervous with everyone here.

Last time he was at Madison's house, they'd had a great time which ended badly and when he looks at Madison, he wonders if she remembers it, too. Her gaze flickers briefly over to him, as their parents seat themselves uncertainly in the same lounge that they'd –

His mother is looking at him and Nick can't read the expression on her face. Guilt still curls up in him, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

God, he's such an idiot, Nick thinks. How could he hurt his mother like this?

"Okay," Madison begins. "First of all, thank you for coming, Mother. Dad. Mrs Hawthorne. We're very grateful that you could make it, at such short notice –,"

"Madison," her mother says, hiccupping, her breaths hitching. "I –,"

"Not right now, Mother," Madison says sharply, her tone lingering on edge. "There's something a little more important at stake right now, and I need Dad right now, not you. Apologies."

Her father, who has been eyeing him curiously, leans forward. "Oh my God," he says, his voice hoarse. His gaze turns darkly murderous on Nick. "You're pregnant."

Nick's mother gasps, turning to him in horror. "Nick! You didn't!"

"Oh my God," Nick mutters. "How has this gone wrong already?"

He wants to slam his head on the dining table.

Madison is rolling her eyes in a way that makes Nick want to laugh.

"As if. I don't have that much baggage," she says, with that iconic crippling disparagement that has made her the ice queen of Redwood. "No, this is... dangerous. I ...bit off more than I could chew."

"So did I," Nick confesses heavily. "See, when I came here, I meant to leave my old life behind, but that didn't happen."

Slowly, with him and Madison taking turns in an almost effortless ease, they explain everything that's been happening.

Madison tells them about Kyle and Audrey, how she'd meant to deal with him by simply kicking him out of Redwood, and how he had physically retaliated by attacking Audrey and threatening Madison. Even the thought of Madison at the hands of Kyle makes Nick want to deck him. Nick explains about Mitchell and his gang, how he had tried to leave that life behind, but Mitchell hadn't wanted to let him go, how he had attacked, and Mitchell had reacted by putting his friend in hospital.

"Does this Mitchell know about Madison?" her mother says immediately.

Nick knows the sheer fear that's going through her right now, because he feels exactly the same. He's terrified about what Mitchell could do to Madison, because he was so stupid enough to seek her out when he knew Mitchell was in town.

He nods, letting out a taut breath.

His own mother is ashen-faced, her eyes wide. Nick feels even more guilt for having put this all on her shoulders. She doesn't deserve this, he thinks, his stomach clenching uncomfortably. He keeps heaping more trouble on her.

"That means Madison's in danger from both of these thugs," her mother says sharply, turning to her father. "Richard, if you don't bring something on them, I'll break their faces –,"

"Mother!" Madison says, startled.

But to Nick's surprise, and slight amusement, the adults seem to be agreeing, all of them vehement on breaking Mitchell and Kyle's faces for daring to attack their children. Even his own mother's jaw is set with a fierce determination he's never seen, her gaze protective over him.

Her father lets out a heavy breath.

"You can't break their faces, Elizabeth, much as you'd like to," he says. "But we can do something else."

*

Madison nudges him towards his mother pointedly, stubborn and pushy as ever.

"Go on," she insists. "Talk to her."

Nick swallows thickly, before he moves after his mother. "Mum?"

She is stirring herself a pot of tea, the steam slowly drifting up in lazy, grey swirls.

"Have you come to tell me about another gang, Nick?" she says dryly. "Does this one deal with bird droppings, instead of crow feathers?"

He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, Mitchell's the only one, don't worry," Nick tells her. He lets out a breath. "I should have told you about attacking Mr Carroway and your business. I just – when I heard what he said to Mrs Carroway, it set something off in me and I couldn't understand why you'd hire someone like that."

His mother is looking at him carefully.

"Sometimes we aren't afforded the luxury of freely choosing who we'd like to spend our time with, Nick," she says softly. "Mr Carroway was, personality-wise, terrible, but he was a very smart and capable individual in my company. His loss meant a big blow to the profit margins." A guilty look passes over her features. "I know that sounds very shallow of me, but –,"

"Money is money, right?" Nick says. "I'm the last person who's going to judge you for making it, Mum." He leans in and stage-whispers, "Not sure you've noticed whose company we're in, but I doubt they care either."

She laughs at him, a real laugh, and Nick feels the tightness in his chest ebb away.

"You shouldn't have hit out at Mr Carroway and I should have listened to you, instead of rushing off all the time," she tells him. "What a life you've had, Nick. All these gangs and the feathers. I shouldn't have just picked you up out of that life and pretended it didn't exist. I was just... I felt guilty."

"For what?" Nick blinks, startled.

"I left you with your father," his mother tells him, shame-faced. "It made you grow up a lot faster than I would have liked. You're a very independent person, Nick. You know how to take care of yourself, but it's not a bad thing to let someone else take care of you."

Nick nods slowly.

"It's just – Dad didn't do a very good job," he says awkwardly, the burn against his shoulder aching. When his mother's face crumples, he feels even worse. "I mean, it's fine, Mum – you're here now."

His mother nods steadily, guilt flashing across her face.

"And I won't leave you again," she tells him. "I need to spend more time with you, so we can learn to be a family. Maybe I'll get a therapist for us both." Nick snorts, but she's not joking. "It could be a good idea, Nick. Would you be up for that?"

Nick actually thinks about it.

All he's ever known of therapists are from those cliché movies and tv shows. They swoop in like angels and fix up whatever's wrong in the brain or whatever, right? He knows he has trouble with communicating properly and letting his guard down. Madison's the only one who he trusts enough to be vulnerable around.

When he looks at his mother, he thinks maybe he wouldn't mind being vulnerable around her either.

"Yeah," he says slowly. "I wouldn't mind that."

She beams at him, her eyes bright.

"If this Mitchell thug tries to hurt you," his mother says casually, offering him a mug of steaming tea, "I'll destroy him."

Nick bursts out laughing. "Is that your attempt at gangster-talk, Mum?"

"No, it's my concern, as a mother who won't let her son get hurt by some idiot thug," she tells him promptly, but they're both chuckling now.

As he drinks the tea slowly, Nick's gaze lingers over to Madison, beautiful as ever. She is speaking with her parents, lingering beside her father. His heart aches a little when he looks at her.

"Madison seems a very sensible girl," his mother says deliberately, and Nick has to actively stop himself from gaping. "Very unlike her mother."

He thinks briefly of how he took her Barbie socks and she chased him through this very house.

"Yeah," Nick says, coughing a little. He tries to sound as casual as possible. "Yeah, I guess she's alright."

His mother eyes him over the rim of her cup, her lips quirking as though she knows something he doesn't.

"The two of you danced very well together."

Nick promptly chokes.