Welcome!

[Steven Cain]

Support Group. The words had a bit of a stigma that made Steven uneasy – support groups were for alcoholics and for people with terminal cancer. Ordinary, sane, healthy happy people didn't need support. Or so it seemed.

He'd found the flyer stuck to a pillar while waiting for the train last week. 'Single Fathers of NAC' it had read – a group for dads who had the works of both parents cut out for them... like him. He wasn't entirely sure why he decided to go, even now. Maybe it was because it was scheduled to meet in the park, and not in some musty church basement. 'Bring your kids' the flyer had also read. And he brought Abby to the park all the time anyway...

Abby had been waiting for him to pick her up outside of her school. Samson Elementary was only four blocks from Dresden Park, and it was a nice day, so they walked. Abby was dressed in a white turtleneck and a dark blue jumper with pink and blue striped tights she'd picked herself, and was doing a strange little skipping step over the cracks in the sidewalk. On the way she regaled him with stories of who had been sent to the principle's office that day for sticking gum in someone's hair, and what Mackenzie Baum had said on the monkeybars during recess, and so on and so forth.

Normally he listened attentively to every word she said, but today his mind was elsewhere. Elsewhere being last night. It had been a bust – not even a single soggy dollar bill had made it into his possession. But, on the upside, he'd gotten out without having his face rearranged by a 9mm, and the cut on his leg had looked a lot worse than it was. He was hardly even limping now, thanks to a hefty amount of bandages and prescription-strength painkillers.

They'd reached the park and the location the flyer had specified – near the Roland memorial playground, between the swings and the statue of Marcus Roland, which someone had drawn a mustache on with permanent marker. Steven looked around and spotted a small group of men sitting in a ring of folding chairs on the grass, looking slightly uncomfortable. Someone had set up a card table with paper cups and lemonade.

He turned to Abby. "Ok Abby-bee. I'll be right over there if you need me. Want me to hold your backpack for you? Ok. Have fun." She handed over her Hello-Kitty knapsack, then sprinted for the swing set, her short blond curls bouncing as she ran. He watched her for a moment, smiled, then got himself a seat.

[Niall Donovan]

Single Fathers of NAC. Could there be a more depressing support group? Not for Niall, unless it was "Superheroes Beyond Their Prime". He really...really hoped there would never be one of those for him to attend.

No, no, he actually loathed going to this group. In order to be able to have Liam as much as he did (which was most of the time), he had to attend this support group. It was just another way that Ava was able to torture him without actually being there to physically and mentally torture him.

Speaking of torture.

Niall opened up the bottle of Vicoden that Mac had given to him. If he recalled, it was exceedingly dangerous to drive while taking Vicoden, which is why he had appeared in the alleyway near St. Joesph's. Dangerous, but it got the job done. He rounded the corner and got Liam as soon as he saw the boy, decked out in uniform and everything. The two of them looked mismatched, biker dad and private school son. After a hello and a very skilled one armed pick up and kiss on the cheek Niall and Liam headed back to the alleyway...

---

It was arguably the fastest way to travel, even though Liam seemed to hate it.
They were a few blocks away, out of the public few for a second. Both came out onto the sidewalk, and then Niall got the run down of the entire day. It was relatively interesting, apparently one of the boys in Liam's class got into a serious amount of trouble, which means the Nuns got to step in. It did make Niall smile, at least it wasn't his son...and nuns were always funny.

They soon arrived at the park, and Liam, forgetting himself as children do, grabbed Niall's right hand and tugged on the arm. "Oh shit," the man almost went down onto the pavement, in plain few of all the other fathers (who no doubt heard him curse). He bit his lip and rubbed his shoulder lightly.

"Alrighty Liam, I can see you're eager. Let's not pull on Daddy's left arm." The boy frowned, but Niall just smiled, "Don't worry about it, I can take a little tugging. Plus, Uncle Mac is taking good care of me." He allowed his son to take his right hand and merely grinned through the sharp, pulsating pains from his severely burned arm. He had promised Liam that morning that he wouldn't let that happen again. The boy was so upset this morning he almost didn't go to school, but with a little coaxing (and a promise of ice cream and quality time tonight) Liam finally went.

Once they reached the playground, Niall bent to give Liam a kiss and hug. The two exchanged a few words in Greek (some of which were "Be careful Liam") before the boy ran off to play. Niall b-lined for the table, grabbing a lemonade and a name tag. He scribbled his name (he was thanking god he was left handed), plastered it on his Harley shirt and discreetly took the Vicoden he had been holding since he picked up Liam.

He noticed a shaky man with glasses. Nice, he looked new. Niall had been doing this for at least 6 months. He took a seat next to the man, unsure if he was trying to scare him with his Biker (who had several nasty cuts) aura or just trying to be nice. "Hey," he offered his left hand, "I'm Niall. I've got a five year old son, Liam." He didn't smile, but he did try to find a cigarette with his right hand (which was NOT fun or pain free). "My, uh, My wife was fucking my accountant. What's your story?"

[Steven Cain]

Steve sipped at the lemonade, which was too sweet. Abby had managed to steal one of the coveted 'good' swings (what made any one swing better than the rest was a complete mystery to him) and was grinning ear to ear. He felt a little surge of warmth inside. Warmth and pride and unconditional adoration. Only a 30% chance of survival, the doctors had said, and now, there she was, bright and happy and healthy. Watching her made all the little stresses and anxieties and failures of the day melt away, leaving only a sense of contentment.

But contentment gave way to reality once more, as a figure stepped in front of him, blocking his view. Steven glanced up at the man decked out like a biker as he dropped into the seat beside him.

"Hey. I'm Niall. I've got a five year old son, Liam."

The man extended his hand and Steven shook it, half-noticing that he shook with his left and not his right. "H-hi. I'm Steve." he murmured in reply.

"My, uh, My wife was fucking my accountant. What's your story?"

He choked a bit on the lemonade he'd just sipped and coughed. "Um." Whatever he'd expected of a support group, this wasn't exactly it. Though granted, this man did stick out a bit from the other flannel and button-down-clad dads sitting in the circle. He supposed there was something to be said for directness, however. "I, uh, well. Julia just didn't want to be a mom. Or a wife, I guess." He took his glasses off and wiped them with the hem of his shirt. "Th-that's my Abby over there. She's seven." He gestured with the glasses to the small, light-haired figure on the swings, and felt a small ounce of confidence return. "This is my first time here."

[Niall Donovan]

Well, at least he wasn't running off scared. It was sort of Niall's intention, but you know. Sometimes things didn't go according to plan. The burn on his right arm were a shining example of that.

"Nice to meet you Steve." He said, dropping his completely useless right arm at his side. Niall decided to get the cigarette carton out with his left hand, flipping the top of the carton and grabbing the cigarette out with his teeth. He knew that he looked like a moron, but he really needed a cigarette, despite being 100% sure that he wasn't supposed to smoke while taking Vicoden. Fuck Mac, he was a little pussy anyway.

He lit up, listening to Steve. Poor guy with little a skittish, wasn't he? Childhood trauma, Niall figured. Probably from some kid just like Niall picking on him. He slide his special brand of cigarettes back into his pocket. "First time, eh? Yeah, you looked a bit scared. We're just a bunch of single dads dealing with the same issues, most of us anyway." He caught glimpse of Abby swinging, who Liam seemed to be staring at, probably awestruck...or jealous of the swing (the kid wanted to be a ladies' man. Needless to say, he hadn't developed the skills yet and Niall was waiting for him to get sacked by one of the older boys).

"Looks like Liam's taken a liking to Abby. He's harmless, she could probably beat him up. I was thinking about enrolling him in Karate or something fierce like that. Balance the smarts with a sport. He's only in kindergarten, but Liam's special." Niall stopped. He was suddenly turning into one of THOSE parents. You know, the ones that would show you a picture of his kid every chance he got? Pride was important, but Niall didn't want to go overboard. Liam was special, but elaborating seemed like a bad idea. He was already a bit weird from when Liam pointed out that one of the kid's father's was packing some serious power. Niall didn't really talk to Jeff...he didn't want to slip up.

"Anyway," He blew out smoke, "Your Julia just left you with Abby? I sort of wish Ava would have done that. That adulterous bitch is still trying to suck money out of me." He inhaled deeply, blowing smoke out through his nose. Niall did this often when he was angry, and when talking about Ava...well, anger followed. He snorted a little. "And I wouldn't even touch that woman in a sexual manner ever again. Or any other woman." Maybe THAT would scare him off. That would be a riot. Skittish little puppy scared off by a ripped gay biker. "I'm sure that accountant gave her every single venereal disease he possible could. She just left me like it was nothing. She never loved me, I was a terrible husband. I was a workaholic, I was never there. Things like that. " He flicked the ash off his cigarette. "Women, they're all the same like that."

"So, what do you do for a living, Steve? Find a good woman, or a man yet? Live close to the city?" Niall smiled once more. At least he could make Steve a little uncomfortable. "I know, I ask a lot of questions. But come on," his Southern accent was showing more than normal, "It's your first time. I gotta make sure that you're not going to try to kill me, right?" Niall laughed loudly, "Do you want a cigarette, Steve?"