. Summary: Set just before season one, it is an altered version of the series in which three friends, Joey, Pacey, and Dawson are actually friends instead of just “friends.” Warning contains cheese.  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Hanging her legs freely over the creek she kicked them against the summer wind curling her fingers over the edge of the dock as she watched the golden sun hang low on the horizon. The sunset spew forth millions of shades of gold all reflecting on their own respective wave creating a glorious pattern. 

“Hey,” he said sitting beside her. 

She flinched dropping her gaze to her knees unable to look at him. 

He sighed sitting beside her, “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about the other day.” 

“Talk about what?” She played dumb. 

He shook his head studying the side of her face, “You know what I'm talking about,” he waited for her response. “The other night at that party.” 

She bit her lip, “Whatever you were thinking—” 

“I wasn't thinking anything,” he defended. 

“Then we have nothing to talk about,” she shrugged off eager to escape this inquisition. 

He stopped her, “That's not it though.” 

She looked over at him, “Then what's it about.” 

“Look I feel like we,” he searched for the right word drawing his fingers together, “had a shared moment.” 

She snapped her head away, “I don't know what you're talking about.” 

Bracing his hand on her shoulder he begged her to look at him, “Yes you do, because you felt it too, I know you did.” He waited for her to speak again, knowing that she wouldn't, “The way you looked at me, there was a sparkle in your eye, and I know that because there was one in mine too and they way that they reflected the huge volt of electricity that I felt… I know I didn't just muster all this up.” 

“There's nothing there,” she refuted, “there can't be.” 

He tilted her chin to look at him, “Come on, why not?” 

“Things would never work,” she said. 

“How do you know that?” 

“I'd get on your nerves.” 

“Like you haven't already.” 

“You'll break my heart?” 

“How could I?” 

“I'm afraid to love you.” 

“I'm terrified, but that isn't stopping Me.” 

She shook her head, “I barely even know you anymore, everything has gotten so crazy lately and every one is all up on edge, I don't know if I can trust you.” 

Tracing his thumb over her lower lip he drew his face closer, “Try,” he whispered before pressing his lips against hers. 

“And cut,” Dawson called out as his two stars wiped the back of their hands furiously over their lips like any other seven year olds would. 

“Shared moment, come on Dawson, leave that in Chasing Amy where it belongs,” Pacey shook his head climbing to his feet. 

Dawson nodded used to the abuse of his impossible actors, “Any criticism from you this afternoon, Joey?” 

She brushed her hands over her shorts, “Yeah, do I have to wear these skanky short shorts? I think I just got another splinter in my ass.” 

“I'll take it out for you,” Pacey called back to her. 

“Sure,” she nodded sarcastically, “right after I tug your tonsils out with my bare hands.” 

“Sorry, got them out when I was eight but my appendix is fair game.” 

Jen strode across her lawn stepping beside Dawson, “Fighting again?” 

“Good, it should inflict an ample amount of pain, maybe I'll use a rusty screw driver,” Joey retorted. 

“Behold the Spencer and Hepburn of our generation,” Dawson said dryly. 

~*~

Flipping over his latest English test he groaned heavily banging his head against his desk. 

“Another winner?” Dawson asked watching his friends dramatic display. 

“My father's going to kill me,” he replied simply. 

“Did you read the book?” 

“Of Mice and Men?” Pacey asked incredulously before breaking into laughter, “Right.” 

“Just relate it to life experiences, it makes it a whole lot more interesting,” Dawson offered. 

“Sure you can be the little one I can be the retarded one and Joey can be that woman I kill in the end.” 

“See right there you covered some of the plot now just fill in the holes.” 

He stared at him blankly, “How old do you have to be to legally drop out of school?” 

“Pacey.” 

The bell screeched releasing the class as they headed out in the hall, “Come on school is rather pointless, especially English I think I speak the language pretty good.” 

“Well,” Dawson corrected. 

“Hey man, who's side are you on?” 

“What are you two talking about?” Joey asked falling in stride with them. 

“Pacey's not letting the man keep him down,” Dawson explained. 

“Stay strong,” Joey joked throwing up a fist. 

“Let's laugh at my misfortune some more,” Pacey said flatly. 

Joey furrowed her brows, “What happened?” 

“I failed my English test.” 

Her jaw dropped, “But I read the chapter with you yesterday.” 

“Yeah and I fell asleep on the second page yesterday and trust me when you sleep on top of a book you don't retain anything, just get really soggy pages.” 

“Pacey,” she groaned. 

“Joey I need your help,” he pled, “There's a big final exam on this book next week and if I don't do well on it my dad'll send me off to Sing Sing.” 

“A little dramatic don't you think?” 

Dawson smirked, “He's rather desperate.” 

“Fine, okay I'll do it, but please pretend that you actually appreciate my hard work.” 

“It's so hard though because I know you enjoy it,” Pacey grinned. 

“I’m a sucker, what can I say?” 

Pacey darted across the hall, “My next class awaits.” 

She frowned, “Why can't he be more like you?” 

Dawson folded his arms over his chest, “And how's that?” 

“A lot less difficult.” 

“I don't get it.” 

“Well let's face it, I can get you to do whatever I want, he however is nearly as stubborn as I am.” 

“It's a deadly combo,” he quipped. 

“I know.” 

“Although sometimes that can be a good thing.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, “What do you mean by that?” 

He just smiled, “Nothing.” 

~*~

Another cloud of steam spewed forth from the ventilator proving once more that Joey was actually in hell. Smoothing her hair back into a ponytail she cringed reaching her hand behind the boiler in search of the spoon she had lodged in there trying to loosen the clog surrounding the exhaust. God only knew what was behind there, or perhaps Satan in this case. 

“Hi Joey,” she bit her lip retracting her dusty arm from the grungy murk. 

“Jen, hey,” she forced a smile. 

“Look I really feel like we got off on the wrong foot.” She followed the barely attentive Joey across the kitchen, “It's just so scary coming to a new place with a bunch of people you don't know and I was really hoping I could find someone to talk to.” 

“Talk to Pacey,” she said simply, almost bitterly. 

“I was actually hoping I could talk to you.” 

“Why?” Joey turned on her abruptly, “Why are you so intent on making me your friend?” 

She tangled her fingers together a nervous habit she was developing, “In New York I didn't have many female friends, I didn't really have any genuine friends at all, it was all that catty crap that most teens claim to never have participated in growing up…” she trailed off. “And after contemplating my other choices here, you seemed to be the most like Me.” 

“Is that supposed to be a complement, like I won some sort of contest for having you pick me out all the other contestants in your Barnyard Backwash Best Friend Competition? Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“Isn't that sort of hypocritical of you?” She questioned, “The fact that you feel like you're better then everyone else in this town yet judge me?” 

“I have my reasons.” 

“Like what?” 

Joey frowned heading across the main patio sparsely filled with customers, “Maybe I just don't want to tell you.” She laughed harshly, “But don't worry you'll hear all about it eventually.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“See Jen, I know I'm not better then everyone else, it's a fact that I'm reminded of every single day. Do you know how hard it is to have your name dragged through the mud day after day for things that you never had any control of? Just go up to anyone and ask them about the Potter's they'll tell you, they'll tell you everything. 'Oh, you mean that family, the one with the dead mother, the cheating lowlife drug dealer, and the daughter with her black boyfriend and baby on the way? That poor little girl forced to live in that trailer trash they call a home, good thing she's never there always sleeping with those two boys at the same time.'“ 

“I'm sorry,” Jen replied. 

Joey shook her head, “I don't need your pity.” 

“Look, Joey we all have our problems, it's just not all of them are out in the open.” 

“What?” 

“Hey ladies,” Pacey said as he and Dawson headed up the steps of the porch. “We'll have two of our usual,” he said to Joey. 

“Why don't you just say two cokes it takes up a lot less energy.” 

“But it sounds a lot more formal.” 

“It's soda.” 

“You're tip is decreasing by the moment.” 

“You never pay me a tip.” 

“I never pay for the food either.” 

Joey rolled her eyes heading back for the kitchen as Pacey and Dawson slid into a booth. “Hey Jen, you feeling better?” He asked her. 

She blushed covering her face, “Just more embarrassed then anything I don't even remember what I took that night.” 

“What do you mean took?” 

“Drank I mean,” she corrected, “even some of the soda's were laced with something, I'm just glad you were there and not someone like Dawson.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” He perked up. 

Jen winked at the blonde across the table, “I know your type.” 

“I know it's hard to get past Dawson's obvious sexual predator persona, but he's harmless,” Pacey joked. 

Joey came back yielding two glasses, “Your drinks.” 

Pacey looked around, “Gee Jo, where are all the customers?” 

“Tourists season is over,” she shrugged her shoulders, “and everyone else is smart enough to ignore this dive.” 

“I think it's nice,” Jen looked around, “it has charm.” 

“That's because you're used to Starbucks and fast food,” Pacey refuted. 

“Yeah and the closest McDonalds here is fifteen minutes away,” Dawson added, “Everything’s got character here.” 

“So Jo, when do you want to get this study thing over with?” Pacey asked. 

She bit her lip, “Maybe we could go to the Ruins after my shift.” 

Dawson pursed his lips, Pacey just grinned cockily, “Look Potter when I said I wanted your help I never mentioned anything about necking.” 

She rolled her eyes, “You’re so immature Pacey, I need to work on my drawing and since still life isn’t working I’m going to take a stab at landscapes.” 

“I’ll bring the Breath Assure just in case,” he winked. 

Jen stood up, “I should get going.” 

Dawson followed suit, “Hey I’ll walk with you.” 

“That’d be great,” she said in return as they headed across the patio. 

Dawson forced his hands deep into his pockets, “So what happened the other night?” 

She looked at her feet as she took each step, “I had a really bad day, you know with my Gramps and stuff and just needed to let go, you know?” 

“Not in particular, but why not?” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

He chuckled, “I’m not really accustomed to the negative sides of life, I’m quite content in my glass bubble actually.” 

“No heartbreak?” 

“Only a minor case of it.” 

“No fights with your parents that made you want to scream?” 

“When I was eight they didn’t let me have seconds on dessert once, I was pretty peeved then.” 

“If only we could all have your problems,” she said flatly. 

“Hey,” he shrugged defensively, “I never said I was upset with my situation. The only problem is when tragedy really does strike it will turn my entire world upside down.” 

“Are you scared of that?” 

“Maybe a little,” he nodded, “but it will make a great movie.” 

She shook her head with a light chuckle, “You haven’t changed one bit you know that?” 

“How’s that?” 

“I remember the first time I met you Christmas of 1990 or some other distant year you were all shy and hiding behind your mother’s leg when my mom and I had come to visit.” She tucked a golden lock behind her ear smiling at the memory, “After about an hour of chatting our parents sent us up to your room to watch a movie or something and when we got up there the first thing you said to me was ‘you’d be great for the movies.’” 

“It’s a strange obsession.” 

“It is good to have a dream though, a purpose in life.” 

He smiled, “I think you’re the first person who’s ever said that to me.” 

~*~

“Joey,” he whined, “Joey I’m bored.” 

“Pace, I’m not sure if you’ve realized this but we’ve only been here for five minutes.” 

“You’re kidding me,” he said incredulously. 

“I printed you out Sparksnotes, now scan the chapters and read sheets and we’ll review.” 

“Nope, can’t do it,” he shook his head. 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m just not smart like you are, I can’t absorb all this crap,” he tossed the packet of notes. 

“This Holden Caulfield attitude you have isn’t going to work on you forever Pacey, you’re smart, deal with it.” 

“I need more motivation,” he explained. 

“We’ll play a game, I’ll ask questions you’ll answer them, it’ll be like Jeopardy,” she offered. 

“Not my idea of fun,” he shook his head. 

“Fine I’ll think up something else,” she shook her head exasperated, “now read will you?” 

The Ruins were a trespassing adventure that every teen committed at least once in their lifetime, although most saw it as the perfect make out locale, others used it for its beauty, a sanctity to escape the rest of the world. The columns and arches resembled ancient Greece like a carbon copy with vines and statues to seal the image. It had belonged to Thurston H. Wethersfield the outskirts of his 100 acre estate. He had married an old hag Gillian Shaw to save his fortune after losing a sizable chunk during the war, but his true love in life was Samantha Jacobs a locale in the Capeside area. The Chapel Estate that had once been his summer home had become his local residence the summer he met her and although his wife was well aware of his affair she did little about it. Samantha loved Greece and dreamed about traveling through the various cities, Sparta and Athens, witness the locale of the original Olympic games. Thurston had vowed to take her but when she fell ill the next year she was unable to make the long journey. So he brought Greece to her bringing in designers from around the world to construct the $1.8 million model. She died late that winter her memorial located somewhere in the gardens, among the beautiful flowers they fell in love with. 

The main attracting was the giant Gazebo where he took her lunch nearly every afternoon, steps to an artificial pond, a massive fountain spewing forth cascades of water, and a giant marble table in the center were surrounded by 360 degrees of gardens. 

Joey perched herself on the table studying the fountain as she pulled out her sketchpad. Angling herself just right she caught a column in her line of view. Catching her balance she found her pencil capturing the image with every sweep of the tip smearing the lead around the edges for a shadowed affect. 

“Done,” Pacey announced, “hit me with anything I’m ready.” 

She set her pad down, jumping to the ground, “Okay, game,” she nodded wiping the lead smears on the tips of her fingers. “How about baseball?” 

He stared at her blankly, “What?” 

“Baseball,” she repeated, “I’ll think of a series of questions ranked from easiest to hardest, easy ones count as a single, medium a double, hard a triple, and hardest a home run.” 

Pacey stifled a laugh; she hit him before he could add in a crude joke about hardness and homeruns. 

“You ready?” she asked. 

“Okay.” 

“What’s your base?” 

He thought for a moment, “I’ll go for a double.” 

“Good choice,” she said taking her pitcher stance. “Josephine Potter, first woman to play in the MLB takes the mound hoping to continue her clean sweep of four scoreless games for the Red Socks. She looks down in the bullpen and waves to boyfriend Nomar Garciapparo.” 

“Hey wait,” Pacey cut in, “If you’re on the Red Socks and taking the field wouldn’t Nomar be on short stop?” 

She thought for a moment, “He’s injured.” 

“How, he was fine the other night when they played the Twins.” 

She grinned, “It wasn’t from playing baseball.” 

“You little slut you.” 

“Alright, the question,” she dug her foot into the ground preparing for the throw, “Who was Lenny’s Aunt?” 

He swung his imaginary bat behind him scanning his memory for the answer, “Um, Clara,” he said with a massive swing of his imaginary bat before running past two of the imaginary bases. 

“With one man in scoring position Potter worries her miracle arm isn’t going to help her this game.” 

“I will take another double please,” Pacey said smugly. 

“Where is the setting of the novel?” 

“California,” he said simply finishing the bases. Scooping up the imaginary ball she ran to ‘home plate’ tagging him before he got there. 

“Specifics,” she said still pressing the back of her hand against his chest. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m going to need a city to allow this point,” she explained. 

“It’s on a farm, is that good enough?” 

“Nope, sorry,” she shrugged her shoulders. 

“You just hate to lose don’t you?” 

“You know it,” she smirked. 

“Fine,” he began thinking of random cities in California, “San Francisco?” 

“Eh, Soledad,” she impersonated an umpire, “He’s out.” 

“I want another go,” he said stubbornly. 

She picked up the book and notes, “Then start studying Buchner.” 

~*~

Jen dug through her bag pulling out a carton of cigarettes as she cradled the telephone receiver under her ear. Balancing a cigarette between her lips she climbed out of her window onto the roof as she lit it allowing the cloud of smoke to consume her. 

Sitting down on the ledge she lye flat on her back staring up at the sky listening to each ring go by. “Hello?” 

She took a long drag before she spoke tipping the burning ashes off the end of her smoke, “Hey Tony, it’s Jen.” 

“Lindley? Where have you been?” 

She inspected the glowing wand before taking another drag letting the smoke settle deeply into her lungs, “They shipped me off to boot camp, can you believe it?” 

“Are the rumors,” Tony recollected his words, “is what I heard true?” 

“About me and Billy?” She questioned taking a long pause, “Yeah.” She let her eyes roll back shutting her lids as she took another therapeutic inhale, “How’s he doing? Have you talked to him?” 

“Yeah he’s a mess ever since he heard what happened, more shocked then anything,” silence filled the line for a moment, “I think he’s mainly just mad at himself for being relieved. How about you? How are you feeling?” 

She scoffed bitterly, “Horrible.” She chewed on her lower lip, “He knows it isn’t his fault, right? What happened wasn’t because of him; it was my own stupid choices.” 

“He knows that,” Tony nodded, “he just doesn’t believe it quite yet.” 

“How’s everyone else doing?” She asked, “Are you doing alright?” 

“Yeah, sure we’re all fine, we miss you though,” he laughed, “it’s not a good time without you Miss Lindley.” 

“Trust me it’s mutual,” she replied. 

“So where’d they ship you off to?” 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said, “it’s like Pleasantville, seriously, I went to a party the other night and it was so dead.” 

“We’ve spoiled you down here,” Tony joked. 

“I’ve still got some things up here to entertain me,” she shrugged, “though I’m not sure how much longer.” 

“What’cho got?” 

Jen smiled playfully, “Drue got me a little subscription of Oxy as a going away present” 

“Girl you’re never coming home on that crap!” Tony warned. 

“I know, I’m so bad but I can’t help it, I need something, you know, something to take the pain away,” she took another drag, “I’m going to stop after I run out, well I’m not going to have a choice really, unless I start smuggling some of my Grandpa’s meds.” 

“How is he?” 

She frowned, “About as active as a potato, I’m surprised we haven’t started with the funeral arrangements already, I don’t think he’s going to make it.” 

“That’s too bad.” 

“Had to happen eventually right?” 

“How about friendship circle, you’re not forgetting about all of us back here, are you?” 

“No,” she laughed, “but I am looking. There’re a couple of people I’ve been hanging out with lately, though I should probably be careful, they’re too much of a good influence on me.” 

“You need a good guardian angel,” he agreed. 

“Good thing I’ve got the perfect boy next door, the knight in shining armor, and…” she trailed off, “Well Joey.” 

“Joey, hmm, anything there?” 

Jen laughed, “Oh my God no, Joey’s a girl and she hates me with a passion of a thousand suns because she thinks I’m trying to steal her boyfriend.” 

“That’s not a new story,” Tony pointed out. 

“I’m not though,” she defended, “he’s just really sweet.” 

“Jennifer,” her Grandmother called. 

Quickly extinguishing her cigarette butt she scrambled back through the window, “I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Jennifer,” Evelyn Ryan repeated peeking her head through the door. 

“Yes Grams?” She asked sweetly. 

“I was heading down to the church for Bible studies and wanted to know if you would join me?” 

“No thanks,” she shook her head. 

“Oh come on Jennifer, you could use a little cleansing for your soul.” 

“God and I aren’t on speaking terms right now,” she said simply. 

“Jennifer, I know you are going through some hard times but let your faith help you through it not dig you deeper in the ditch you’re forming.” 

“Faith? God?” She shook her head, “If he’s really here then why is all this stuff happening to me? What did I ever do to him?” 

“Sometimes we have to make sacrifices to learn,” she explained. 

“I’ve learned a lot,” she bit back, “I’ve learned that I just want to be alone,” she finished closing the door. 

~*~

Joey rested her cheek in her palm, elbow propped on the lunch table and perpetual scowl plastered on her face, “What’s wrong with you?” Dawson asked sitting across from her. 

“I got a C on my drawing,” she pouted. 

“Which one did you finally hand in?” 

She pulled it out of her binder, “The Ruins one, I thought that one was the best too.” 

He inspected it the perfectly symmetrical lines, the detailed splatters of water, the shadowed background, “You got a C on this?” 

Joey rolled her eyes snatching the sketch back, “She said it was too impersonal and that if she were looking for an exact replica, she would have taken a picture.” 

“Ouch, so are you dropping the class?” 

Joey shook her head furiously, “And let the bitch get the better of me?” 

“There’s the old Potter will kicking in.” 

“I’m still pissed though.” 

“Hey guys,” Jen said sitting down at their table, “wow Joey, did you draw that, that’s amazing!” 

Joey slid the picture back in her binder, “Thanks,” she said uncomfortably. 

Jen set her bag down on the floor a clanking sound accompanying it as Joey’s eyes landed on the mysterious bottle. 

“Guess who’s not failing English anymore,” Pacey said excitedly joining the table, “well technically I still am but not quite as bad anymore.” 

Joey looked up, “How’d you do?” 

“88,” he said holding up his paper proudly, “Not too bad if I say so myself.” 

“That’s great Pace.” 

“And it’s all thanks to Josephine’s harsh Turkish Prison like training,” he patted her shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t call it that extreme,” she defended as the bell rang. 

The four jumped out of their seats heading for their next class Joey straggling slightly behind as she scooped up the jettison bottle reading the label as her eyes followed the descending blonde. 

~*~

Joey pounded on Pacey’s door, “What?” He complained rubbing his eyes, “You’re interrupting my 4:30 nap.” 

“This is slightly more important,” she said slipping past him, “we need to have a hypothetical situation.” 

“You finally admitting your undying love for me?” He asked smugly. 

“Not quite,” she shook her head, “What would you do if you found out something really bad about a person you didn’t really know.” 

“Who is it and what’s the dirt?” He asked eagerly. 

“I’m serious Pace,” she groaned. 

“Well do you like this person?” 

“Not exactly,” she said, “we got off on the wrong foot.” 

He nodded, “And what did you find out about them?” 

“I’m not exactly sure yet, it’s all just my wild imagination taking over.” 

“Are we talking murder, sexual relations with high standing figures, or just a little cheating on a test?” 

“Did you cheat on your English test?” She asked incredulously. 

“Is that what this is about?” 

“No,” she shook her head, “it’s just you sort of incriminated yourself there.” 

He shook his head abruptly, “No of course not, so what are we done here.” 

“Oh my God you did, didn’t you!” 

“Just a little now back to your existential crisis,” he dismissed. 

“Pacey Witter!” 

“Only on one question I swear, Mary Beth was just begging me to take that answer too, she held her paper up and everything right in front of my desk,” he defended. 

She shook her head disappointedly. 

“So what’s the real problem and why didn’t you go to Dawson about it?” 

“Because he’d make me do that right thing, to go to some adults or something,” she shook her head, “I just don’t know what to do.” 

“Maybe you should talk to them and not me,” he suggested. 

She pursed her lips, “I don’t know what to say.” 

“Just listen, be accepting,” he shook his head, “try caring, do what you’re doing right now.” 

~*~

Jen dug through her bags desperately searching for her bottle of pills fearing who’s hands they had fallen into. Jumping as a knock rumbled against her door she shoved the tornado that had run through her room back in her bag before nervously answering the door. 

“Joey, hey,” she said on edge. 

“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here and during normal circumstances I wouldn’t be in your neck of the woods but…” she pulled the bottle from her pocket, “I thought you might be looking for these.” 

“They’re not mine,” she defended, “they’re my grandfather’s, I must have dropped them in my bag this morning after his dosage.” 

“Cut the crap Jen,” Joey shook her head, “I don’t need your excuses.” 

“What does it mater?” She sighed defeated, “It’s still not going to change your opinion of me.” 

Joey frowned a wave of guilt flowing through her, “What are you sick or something, did you get in a huge accident? Is that why you’re on pain killers?” 

“Something like that,” she took the bottle from her dragging her thumb across the label. 

“This stuff is dangerous you know,” Joey said. 

“I know,” she set the bottle down, “but it also works as well as it says it does.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

She smiled in spite of herself, “They take the pain away, make you feel nothing inside when you’re hurting so bad.” 

“But why would you need that? You’re a spoiled brat from the Upper East Side.” “How’s that?” 

“I know what it’s like to be the town gossip except in my case I’m the provider,” she explained. 

“What did you do?” She furrowed her brows. 

“My parents didn’t deserve the role they received, they had no clue how to raise a child, it made it rather easy to become the troubled child.” She picked the bottle back up, “I began sneaking into clubs at a relatively young age 11 or 12, when you play your cards right, wear the right outfit, say the right thing, people will let you anywhere. Started having drunken sex and other ungodly act before I could drive. I just wanted that feeling of being loved seeing as my parents more or less ignored me.” 

Joey folded her arms over her chest as she watched the blonde organize her trashed room, “I wasn’t sent here because of my grandfather, it was just a lame excuse my father came up with when he got scared, when he finally decided to start caring.” 

“What happened,” Joey asked, “What happened that sent them over the edge?” 

Jen brushed away a tear, “I, uh, I got pregnant. Me and my,” she thought of the word, “not quite boyfriend weren’t thinking one night and didn’t think something like that could happen to us and I don’t think we really cared.” She sighed heavily, “By the time I realized that I was going to have a baby, it was too late.” 

“Too late for what?” Joey asked cautiously. 

“I killed my baby, Joey,” Jen cried, “I killed it before it even had a chance.” She supported herself on her desk shuddering through her tears, “I didn’t know about it, I swear if I did I wouldn’t have done all the stuff I did. It was my job to take care of it, my job to protect it and I couldn’t do it, I just let it die.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Joey offered. 

“But it was,” she refuted, “I drank, smoked, and did drugs, every lethal combination out there, just suffocating it before it had a chance to grow, to survive. I just killed it.” 

Unsure of what to do Joey pulled her into a hug, “It’s okay.” 

“I just want the pain to go away,” she cried, “I don’t want to hurt inside anymore.” 

“Then do it yourself, don’t use drugs to take it away.” 

Jen wept, shielding her face in Joey’s shoulder, “I don’t know how.” 

Joey bit her lip, “Maybe I can help.”