. 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

Kicking off his shoes he plopped onto Dawson’s bed watching Joey bounce a good six inches in his wake. Joey flashed him her patented glare briefly before rolling back into her original position. 

“What are we watching?” He asked studying the scene on the television. 

“We’re taking a break from the world of cinema and dipping our toes in a little primetime television,” Dawson explained. 

“And this taste test includes Animal Hospital 101?” 

“Its ER doofus,” Joey glanced over her shoulder. 

“Oh yes medical crisis at its dramatized best,” Pacey rolled his eyes, “why do you watch this show? For its gratuitous shots of flesh and gore while the powers that be snicker at the FCC for all that they slip past the censors? Or is it the young roughish doctors that change more frequently then the bed pans? I mean honestly the ER is not filled with that many young attractive qualified doctors.” 

“Except for Clooney,” Dawson cut in. 

“Well Clooney is a God, men and women alike worship him,” Pacey agreed. 

“You’re just bitter that there aren’t more young attractive females,” Joey accused. 

“True,” he nodded, “but still, who needs to get enraptured in a world of disease and death even a brief 60 minutes. We’re young and healthy and the more we remember that, the less we have to worry about shows like these salting our game.” 

“Since when did you become so vibrant and carefree?” Joey cocked an inquiring brow. 

“What can I say life is good,” he shrugged leaning back against Dawson’s headboard. 

“You do realize you’ve just jinxed yourself,” Dawson said, “at any moment now your life will just crumble in a ceremonious clump, it’s Murphy’s Law.” 

“Murphy’s Law?” 

“Yeah,” Joey filled in, “what can go wrong will go wrong. It’s usually most prominent when you start acting like a conceited jackass.” 

“Then it should have kicked in years ago,” he said with a smirk. 

“Why is life so good anyway?” Dawson asked. 

“Dougie just moved off to Vermont lifting that 15 year burden of his unsurpassable shadow,” he relaxed on the bed, “and I can finally breathe.” 

“Vermont?” 

“Yeah he took his Village People act on the road, they were short a cop at the YMCA in Humpalotville.” 

“Your maturity is astounding,” she rolled her eyes. Dawson flashed her a knowing look causing her to cringe. 

“So what you’re the designated man of the house now?” Dawson asked, “Doesn’t that still leave his shoes to fill?” 

“What to impress my father?” He scoffed, “See that’s the beauty, now that he’s gone I’ve got nothing to live up to, that constant pressure of what I could be isn’t sitting across from me every Sunday night bragging about his latest Capeside catch.” 

“Well wouldn’t you want to use this opportunity to get closer to your father?” Joey asked. 

“And become his latest mignon? I am no man’s lap dog,” he said. 

Joey scooped up a ball of dirty socks from the door, “Pace catch,” she said tossing the ball at him. 

Instinctively reaching out he grasped it looking at her strangely, “Good little lap dog,” she teased. 

“Ha,” he said dryly hurling it back at her, “Funny.” 

~*~

“When’s the next break?” Jen asked slamming her locker shut. 

“Not soon enough,” Dawson sighed jamming his hands into his pockets, “I don’t think we get a three day weekend till Columbus Day.” 

“Oh yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “nothing like praising men who discovered land that was already inhabited.” 

“Yeah well, the Native American names were too hard to pronounce.” 

“I don’t know how much more of these meaningless topics I can take,” she groaned. “I mean when will I ever need to know about trigonometry in the real world?” 

“On that faithful day when some psycho holds a gun to your head and gives you two sides of a right triangle and tells you to find the third or die,” Dawson shrugs. 

She giggled, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“This is me,” he nodded towards a classroom. 

“Pay attention,” she instructed, “it could save your life.” 

“I’ll try,” he chuckled slipping into the room. 

“Jen,” she stopped in her tracks, “Jen from the dance, Jen.” 

“Chris,” she didn’t even turn, “Chris Wolfe from my nightmares, Chris.” 

“That’s what they all say,” he grinned. 

“And you still haven't taken the hint?” She cocked an amused brow. 

“I hear women find persistence incredibly sexy,” he purred with dark eyes. 

“And society classifies them as stalkers, it's an amazing concept.” 

“Why are you so quick to dismiss me?” He asked stepping in front of her. 

“Why are you so intent on pursuing me?” She countered turning away again. 

“I've heard stories,” he shrugged catching her arm. 

She narrowed her eyes, “From who?” 

“Alright so I've made assumptions,” he ceded, “women from the big city are notoriously wild.” 

“And boys from small towns are notoriously full of shit,” she said with a roll of the eyes. 

“What's with all the hostility?” 

“It's from people like you Chris,” she snapped. “People like you who jump to conclusions so frequently that stereotypes are set with such ease that nobody offers a second thought to what the truth may really be. I'm so sick of being judged,” she said almost desperately, “and I'm sick of people like you.” 

“Hey calm down,” he rose his hands defensively, “I was just going to offer you a good time, that's all.” 

“A good time?” She asked incredulously, “oh come on, you wouldn't know a—.” 

“Hey,” Pacey broke in, “do we have a problem over here.” 

“Get out of here Witter, nobody was talking to you,” Chris said. 

“Yeah well you were giving my lady friend here a problem so I'm going to have to step in and tell you to back off.” 

“We were fine,” he gave Jen a slimy look, “right sweetie.” 

“Why you,” Jen dove at him held back by Pacey's physical blockade. 

“Stay away,” Pacey warned him guiding her away. “What was that about?” He asked her as they rounded the hall. 

She squirmed from his grasp, “I don't need your help Pacey, you don't need to step in every time you feel the need to 'rescue' me.” 

“I was just helping you out of an uncomfortable situation,” he defended. 

“No, you went around playing White Knight for a girl who doesn't appreciate being cast in the role of a damsel,” she refuted. 

“Why would you be talking to someone like Chris Wolfe anyway?” 

“Just back off Pace, it's not your fight,” she finished stalking away. 

Pacey furrowed his brows watching after her, women were something he would never understand. 

~*~ He buried his hands deep in his pockets kicking the dirt as he walked down the street. “What’s wrong with you?” Joey asked hiking her bag up her shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” he muttered, “just trying to understand the female specimen that’s all. 

“It’s not worth it,” she shook her head, “I’m one myself and even I don’t understand them.” 

He smirked, “Well the jury’s still out on that one Potter.” 

She narrowed her eyes shoving him into the street. He simply laughed, “Point proven.” 

“Not funny, Pace,” she sneered. 

He hooked a finger beneath the hem of her shirt, “I’m just going to have to see some proof that’s all.” 

“You think I’m going to flash you in the middle of the street?” She asked incredulously, “You’re more delusional then I thought.” 

“I’m just looking for a sneak preview that’s all,” he said trapping her in his grasp his nose nuzzling into her ear, “we all know you want to ravish me anyway.” 

She could feel the heat of rouge creep through her cheeks and she suddenly wondered how big Dawson’s mouth could be. “Ew, gross Pacey,” she defended, “I just ate.” 

He tightened his arm around her pressing his cheek against hers, “Well if you’re still hungry I’m sure there’s a little patch of woods out there where I can feed your needs.” 

She made no move to squirm from his grasp, just resumed walking wondering if he would follow her in this position. “Tell me Pace,” she folded her arms over her chest allowing them to rest above his arm. “If I were to say yes, what would you do?” 

“See I’ve never gotten that far,” he lifted his hand from her waist for a brief moment before placing it back flat against her belly. All rules of the game they were playing were lost, all intentions not fully planed. “My brain’s just wired for the rejection that’s all.” 

She reached behind her cupping his cheek in her palm before tilting back her head to look at him, his face hovering dangerously close. His eyes stared into hers curiously and she suddenly forgot her purpose. He looked down at her lips and suddenly she realized what was coming next, he was going to kiss her. No scripts no characters, no best friend threatening if they didn’t, Pacey J. Witter on his own free will was going to kiss her. 

He tested the waters first, brushing his nose across hers waiting for her to protest. His eyes checked hers one last time before his lips descended towards hers. 

She panicked, the idea of actually getting what she wanted a completely foreign concept, clearing her throat she stepped out of his arms, “You should keep it that way,” she said trying to keep the moment light. 

He blinked a few times, the past minute now seeming like a dream. He laughed uneasily, “That’s what I thought.” 

She bit her lip an awkward tension washing through them, “So how about those women problems,” she cringed realizing that topic wouldn’t soothe their situation. 

“It’s Jen, actually,” he said, “I just don’t understand her.” 

A jealous rush consumed her, “Why would you want to understand her anyway?” 

“It’s not that, it’s just she’s been living in these regions for a solid month now and I still don’t really know a thing about her. She keeps everything so shielded in.” 

“Girls like their privacy,” Joey shrugged. 

“And she’s been hanging out with Chris Wolfe a little too often for comfort,” he added. 

“And you intend on saving her from the Big Bad Wolfe, is that what you’re saying?” 

“I was merely offering my experience in police enforcement,” he defended. 

“This is the 90’s Pace; women don’t like to be treated like fragile creatures.” 

“I’m just worried that’s all,” he dismissed. “You’ve suddenly become rather chummy with her, what do you think?” 

“I think any demons still floating around her closet need to be fought alone to make it better. She’s sick of relying on men to fix all her problems and she feels that if she’s in a new place she can turn over a new leaf.” 

“Yeah, but what kind of demons could a fifteen year old possibly have?” 

“In some cases, more then you think,” Joey said. 

~*~

“You ever going to start walking?” Dawson asked stepping beside the blonde sitting on the school steps. 

“I’m still getting used to the absence of yellow vehicles taking me every place I want to go, school buses and taxi cabs a like,” Jen said her chin perched on her knees as she looked out on the vacant school lot. 

“It’s because the town’s too small for public transportation,” he said offering her a hand. 

“Still adjusting to it I guess,” she took his hand pulling herself to her feet. 

“I was just heading home, care for a lift?” He suggested. 

“Does this lift include more then two wheels?” She cocked a brow. 

“Nope,” he shook his head, “just a good pair of walking shoes.” 

She smirked, “How quaint.” 

“I heard you and Pacey had a little rift.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Will I be seeing recaps on the 5 o’clock news?” 

“He was just a little upset that’s all,” he explained. 

“I didn’t mean to bruise his male ego,” she said, “only contain it a bit.” 

“I sense a lot of resentment towards the male population,” he concluded. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“When you have Chris Wolfe riding your tail and there aren’t any rumors about your torrid love affair floating around, yes.” 

“I’m just sick of being the mysterious new wild girl from New York,” she shrugged. 

“Then just tell the truth, you know your innocent trips to Broadway and carefree loops around that ice rink near Radio City.” 

She smiled nervously, “Well that’s not entirely accurate.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “Then what is?” 

She tucked a blonde lock securely behind her ear, “I don’t think you could handle it.” 

~*~

She plopped down on his bed flipping through a few pages of the novel, “So what chapter are we on today?” 

His eyes drifted over her a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Um, I don’t know the one where they’re stranded.” 

“Thanks for the specifics,” she said dryly in search of the last folded page. 

His eye caught her bag discarded on the floor a sketch of blues and greens catching his eye, “Another drawing?” He asked crouching beside it to pick it up. 

“Yeah,” she dismissed barely even acknowledging it. 

“How’d this one do?” He asked examining it. 

“B,” she rolled her eyes. 

“This is the creek, right?” 

She glanced over at it quickly, “Yeah from my yard, I put my mother’s chair in it because that’s the way I remember her best, on those early fall days looking out at the water.” 

“B my ass,” he said still studying it. 

“Thanks for your friendly hot air up the ass,” she rolled her eyes, “it’s horrible anyway I don’t even know why I handed it in.” 

“It’s good and you know it, Jo,” he said. “And you’re just upset that it was something personal and the old hag couldn’t look past her Bob Ross interpretation of ‘fine art’ to see that.” 

“No need to play supportive friend here, Pace,” she argued, “I really could care less about that art class anyway.” 

“You do though,” he accused, “and that’s why somebody should appreciate your masterpieces, you need a few groupies here and there, Potter.” 

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to get at,” she began, “but whatever it is, it’s starting to frighten me.” 

“How do you think it looks here?” He asked tilting the flimsy sketch paper against his wall. 

“Pacey stop,” she said more sternly. 

“Or maybe here, you know so I can look at it when I wake up in the morning,” he decided. 

“Pacey, I’m serious.” 

He climbed onto the bed leaning across her as he held the drawing against the wall, “It gets nice lighting right her, maybe this will work.” 

“Pacey, stop it,” she said stubbornly knocking his hand away knocking him off balance his weight landing on her in a thud. 

“You’re talented Joey,” he said not moving his eyes looking down at her. 

“You’re full of it,” she refuted. 

He shifted his weight to his arms climbing up her body until she was directly below him, “Learn to take a complement Potter, you’re talented, you’re beautiful, you’re amazing even.” 

“No, I’m not,” she shook her head. 

“Why do you hate yourself so much?” 

“What?” she narrowed her eyes, “I don’t hate myself I just know the truth, that’s all.” 

“Obviously you don’t,” he countered. 

“Fine I’m talented,” she ceded, “are you happy now?” 

“We’re getting there,” he smirked content. 

She sucked her lip between her teeth, “Are you going to get up now?” 

He made no move, “yeah sure,” the words slipped nearly inaudibly off his tongue. 

Her eyes locked with his, “Where is everybody?” 

“In Casa de Witter?” He asked, “It seems I’ve been abandoned, Pop’s at work and mom’s helping Gretchen with some college adjusting crisis in Boston.” 

Her tongue dragged across her lower lip, “How very convenient.” 

A wicked smile tugged at his lips, “One could see it that way.” 

The phone rang and he nearly jumped to his feet, “Let me get that,” he said breaking from her spell. 

She sat up on her elbows, “Right.” 

Heading down the hall he picked up the phone, “Hello?” Annoyance dripped through his voice. 

“Hi this is Phil from the station,” the man began. 

“Oh,” he furrowed his brows, “what, is the sheriff slacking on the job? He’s not here if you’re looking for him.” 

“Look kid, is your mom home?” 

“Do I need to give the ‘she’s busy right now’ line or can I trust the police force to handle such classified information?” 

“Is there anybody else I could talk to then?” He continued. 

“What I’m not good enough company?’ 

“Listen kid,” his voice took a serious tone, “it’s about your father.” 

“What is?” A wave of worry flooded his voice. 

“There was something wrong with his heart, we just sent him to the hospital,” he explained. 

“Oh my God,” the color drained from his face, “is he alright?” 

“I’m not sure, I just needed to notify the family.” 

“Um,” he lost all words, “thanks man, I’ll be right there.” 

Joey stepped out of his room hugging her arms to her chest, “What’s going on?” 

He frowned, “I’ve got to go to the hospital, something’s going on with my dad.” 

“Oh,” she said caught off guard, “I’m coming with you.” 

~*~

She took a seat beside his bed still not fully comfortable with the tubes and wires that kept him breathing. “Hey there Granddad,” she said, “I haven’t talked to you in a while, which I guess is terrible since I live right next door.” She smiled sadly, “I’m almost glad I came here, I’m feeling so much better, but I guess whoever ‘You can’t escape your past’ was right. I’m getting better though, I’ve found a good group, I haven’t even smoked a cigarette for a week, it’s killing me Gramps,” she chuckled softly. 

“How are you doing?” She placed her hand over his, the cool feeling of his hands startling her slightly. “You feeling better there?” He didn’t move. “I’ve been wondering lately if you can ever hear me? Whether you’re even in there. Is that what death is like Gramps? Just vast darkness? Grams seems to think you’re in a better place, that you’ve escaped the pain and are in a better place right now. But you know what, I don’t think there’s anywhere else, I think this is it, is that bad? The fact that I don’t believe there is anywhere else to go but in that nice little ditch in the ground?” 

She bit her lip, “Maybe that’s why I’m so angry, I don’t know where I’m going and what I’m trying to gain. What’s the point of living a life of good if this is all we get anyway? Good people always get screwed over first anyway.” She frowned, “But then again the good people are the ones who get a happy ending, that karma thing people always talk about.” 

Her eyes trailed over his motionless form; "I'm just rambling now aren't I?" She placed a hand over his heart the weak beat barely pumping through his chest. "You get better too, alright Granddad? You need to get better also." 

A frown etched her lips as she waited for a response, standing in the doorway she watched as he continued to drift away. 

~*~

He ran through the halls of the hospital trying to shake the pending fear that seemed to chase behind him. More or less crashing into a desk he panted desperately fighting for the breath to speak, "I'm looking for John Witter, he was just brought in." 

The nurse looked over a few folders, "He's in surgery right now, it appears he had a heart attack," she explained, "you can wait for him in the waiting room," her voice said with little inflection, barely looking up at the terrified young man. "Third floor and to your left." 

"Thanks," he grunted, Joey on his heel as they headed for the elevator. 

Pacing back and forth in the small confounds he grasped his head, "I've got to call my family, Mom, Carrie," he stopped, "oh God I don't remember Doug's new number." 

"Pace, calm down," she braced him, "I'll call your family, okay? You just make sure that your father is alright." 

He smiled at her sadly, "Thanks Jo." 

Pulling him in her arms she hugged him tightly, "It's going to be okay." 

The ding of the elevator sent the doors open as he stalked down the hallway finding the nearest doctor, "I'm here to check on John Witter." 

The doctor eyed him for a moment, "Relation?" 

"I'm his son," he explained. 

Flipping open his chart he cleared his throat, "It appears your father suffered myocardial infarction, which is when the heart muscle doesn't get enough blood supply. This is caused by the blockage of the coronary arteries. This cut off his supply of oxygen and nutrients to the heart muscle, which leads to an electrical instability of the tissue. This causes a ventricle fibrillation, preventing oxygenated blood from reaching the brain." 

"So how do we fix that?" He asked not quite grasping everything the doctor was saying. 

"What we did was we performed a PTCA, or percutaneous transluminal coronary angioplasty, which is when you take this little plastic catheter with a balloon on the end and we guide it to the blockage in the artery. Inflating the balloon causes the clog to flush out. By placing a coronary stent which is a tiny cylinder in the artery we hope to reduce the chance of this happening again." 

"But is he alright?" 

The man just smiled placing a hand on his shoulder, "He's going to be just fine." 

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he captured a small smile creeping across his face. 

~*~

She sat down beside him running her clammy palms against her jeans, "Hey," she said. 

"Hey," he replied, eyes still drawn to the floor. 

"How are things?" 

“They say things will be okay,” he nodded. 

“How about you?” She asked, “How are you feeling?” 

“Just a little shaky,” he shrugged a tired shoulder, “but I’m feeling better now.” 

She took his hand in hers squeezing it tightly, “Your mom and Gretchen will be here in about an hour and Carrie, Doug and Theresa are all on the way.” 

“What’d they say?” He asked. 

She flashed her crooked grin, “Thank God Pacey’s there.” 

He tried to hide his smile, the great feeling that tugged at the strings of his heart, “I was just so scared that’s all.” 

“You did great Pace,” she offered. 

He shook his head, “I didn’t do anything.” He frowned, “I was just so scared that’s all, because no matter how much I claim to hate the man,” he scoffed, “I think I’d hate him more if he was gone, for leaving me behind without letting me prove to him how hard I try to make him proud.” He trailed off, “It’s rather selfish I guess.” 

“It’s rather human,” she defended. 

“Mister Witter,” the nurse stepped up to them, “your father is asking for you.” 

He stood up, “You can go now if you want to,” he told Joey. 

She stood up as well, “I think I’m just going to hang out for a little while, until your family gets her at least.” 

“You don’t have to,” he shook his head. 

“I’m not going to leave you here all alone,” she countered, “I was just going to head down to the cafeteria, do you want me to get you anything?” 

He sighed, “No, I’m fine.” 

“Okay,” she nodded pulling him into a hug allowing his body to relax against hers. “I’ll see you later then.” 

She pulled away turning on her heels when his voice caught her, “Hey Jo?” 

She turned around raising a brow, “Yeah?” 

Impulsively he caught her hand drawing her to him his lips pressing against hers softly lingering for a moment, “Thanks,” he whispered against them. 

She stroked his cheek with her thumb, “Now go see your dad.” 

~*~

The beeping machines startled him and for the first time his father didn’t look like the hero he always envisioned him as. He was just lying there, helpless. 

“Hey, Pop,” he took a seat beside him. 

He let out a heavy breath, “Hey Pace, you here to take me home?” 

“Sorry, the doctors say they have to keep you here for a couple of days.” 

“Like hell they will,” he attempted to sit up. 

Pacey chuckled, “You have to rest Dad, some would call what you just went through a traumatizing experience.” 

“They’re just a bunch of pansies,” he shook his head, “I’ve got work to do.” 

“I think you’re going to have to take some time off, they say one of the reasons you got here was from stress.” 

“Don’t fall for their scientific mumbo jumbo boy, they’re just money hogs.” 

“Good to see your brush with death left you unscathed.” 

“You think a bout with cholesterol is going to knock me out?” John raised a tired brow. 

“No Pop,” he shook off his smile. 

“You haven’t called your mother yet have you?” 

“Of course I have, why?” 

“Well she’s going to overact to this like she always does and your sisters will swarm around me crying as if I actually died, and Doug would just stand there with a quivering lip off to the side pretending to be strong.” 

“How about me dad?” 

He smiled at him warmly, “You’d come in with that smartass attitude of yours treating me like you just came home from school and I was on the couch drinking a beer.” 

He blushed bowing his head to hide it, “Thanks Pop.” 

“Thanks for being here when I woke up,” John said almost shaky on the complement, “it’s good to know that somebody was waiting for me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Because sometimes I forget to tell you kids how much I really do love you,” he said with his deep raspy voice. 

Pacey was nearly at a loss for words, “I love you too, Pop.” 

~*~

Pacey took a seat at the Icehouse, needing to escape the staleness of the Capeside General Hospital. Brushing his thumbs along the edge of his glass he stared blankly into his soda. 

“I heard about your dad,” she said sitting across from him. 

“It’s nothing really,” he shrugged off. 

“No,” Jen shook her head, “I know how you feel, and I’m sorry.” 

He smirked sadly, “I just feel even worse for you I guess, with your Grandfather and all.” 

“No don’t it’s alright,” she shook off. She watched him for a moment, “Look I wanted to apologize for the other day, I’m just a little defensive, that’s all.” 

“Tell me about it,” he said. “It’s a little my fault too I guess, I’ve got to learn to stop trying to fight other peoples battles.” 

“And I’ve got to learn to let my friends help me when I need it,” she agreed. 

“So we’re fine then,” he extended a hand in peace. 

“Fine,” she nodded shaking his gesture. 

“So it’s settled, the next time I see Chris Wolfe, I have every right to kick his ass.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Why don’t we start on evil glares and we’ll work our way up.” 

“Deal.” 

He took a sip from his drink his eyes falling on Joey taking an order on the other side of the porch. He couldn’t categorize their relationship at the moment they’re banter morphed into endless flirting. The silent moments filled with tension as they fought to refuse the sudden attraction. 

Jen caught his gaze tossing a glance over her shoulder, “Speaking of redefining friendships.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“She likes you, you know.” 

He arched a brow, “Who?” 

“Does the word ‘duh’ mean anything to you?” She rolled her eyes, “Joey, I’m talking about Joey.” 

He looked back over at the brunette across the restaurant, “No she doesn’t, Joey hates me.” 

“I think her feelings for you are farthest from hate right now,” Jen reassured him rising from her seat. “I suggest you do something about it before that changes.” 

He smirked as his eyes followed her off the porch before Joey snapped him out of it, “Scaring away women with a blink of an eye,” she teased. 

“Something like that.” 

“How you doing?” She asked. 

“I think if I hear that line one more time there may actually wind up being something wrong with me.” 

She cringed, “Right.” 

“You almost done here?” 

She yanked on the rope of her apron, “I just finished my shift actually, why?” 

He grinned standing up till his height towered hers, “I wanted to walk you home.”