. Author’s Note: I always wanted a soap opera style fic, where the relationships change constantly. Anyway it’s sort of based on some life experiences from when I was in high school and had my own Dawson, Pacey, Jack and Jen, in fact some of the PJ banter comes from some banter I shared with a friend of mine. It takes place in multiple points of views so between every break I’ll label the narrator. Summary: The beginning of junior year, this picks up after season 2. Some plots and season 3 story lines from the actual show will be used but only briefly and altered. Example: Andie still cheated on Pacey and Dawson is still being seduced by Eve.. Warning: Contains sexual content. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Jack 

Pacey and I walk into history to come face to face with the sub Mr. Reese. “Jack we’re leaving,” Pacey says turning on his heels. 

“Wait what?” I ask following his enormous gesture. 

“Dawson wants to play detective, we minus well cut some school in the process,” he explains turning towards the door. 

“Shouldn’t we check in first?” I ask nodding towards the sub. 

“Wise Jack, very wise,” Pacey agrees heading over to the desk, “Pacey Witter, sir,” he says and without a moment between heads straight out the door. 

“Jack McPhee, we’re heading to the library to work on our history project,” I say with the least clever excuse ever. 

“Right,” Mr. Reese nods sarcastically as I turn to catch up with Pacey. 

We wonder through the halls looking for Dawson’s math room and when we finally get there Pacey knocks on the door impatiently. 

“Yes Mr. Witter?” Ms. Kayhart asks setting down a piece of chalk. 

“I need to speak with Mr. Leery, it’s rather urgent and you know I wouldn’t be here admiring your lovely face if it weren’t important, right Ms. Kayhart?” He asks flirtatiously and I could have sworn he learned his lesson with Ms. Jacobs. 

“Don’t bother with the theatrics,” she replies unimpressed turning back to the black board. 

“Ms. Kayhart this is a life or death situation and Dawson’s presence is mandatoraly required!” 

“Pace, mandatoraly isn’t a real word,” I whisper into his ear behind him. 

“I know what I said,” he dismisses. 

“Fine take him, but if you try with these shenanigans again Mr. Witter—.” 

“I know detention, principle, yadda, yadda, yadda,” he brushes off as Dawson folds his things together following us out of the room. 

“Not one of your better performances,” Dawson laughed still packing his things away into his backpack. 

“I was ill prepared, this was a pretty sporadic idea,” Pacey sighs shrugging slightly. “So D, any assignments you have to hand in before we take out,” he asks in a joking tone. 

“No, my essay isn’t due till tomorrow.” 

~*~ 

Joey 

I scribble absently in the margins of my notes unable to concentrate on whatever Miss Bishmack is trying to teach me. The doodles are quite nice actually, the perfect amount of shading in all the right angles it really gives my dog and cat singing Christmas carols a new light and I got the folds of the Santa hat just right. 

“Three musketeers two o’clock,” Andie mumbles staring absently out the window. 

“More like three stooges, what are they doing?” I ask craning my neck to get a better shot of Pacey, Dawson, and Jack heading out of the school Mission Impossible style towards the police truck. Well Pacey and Jack are doing it Mission Impossible style, Dawson is kind of trailing behind laughing. 

“With those three, anything,” Andie smirks scribbling down a few notes. “Joey I was wondering if you could help me out.” 

“With what?” I ask glancing between my work of art and the three amigos. 

“That test in Government, do you think you could help me out,” fuck. 

I really want to be a good person and help her out but Pacey’s coming over, and tutoring her extremely intelligent ex-girlfriend doesn’t feel like incentive enough to cancel. “Yeah sure, but I’m kind of busy tonight,” I say leafing through my binder and pulling out all of the units notes. “But here take these they’re a better study aid then I could ever be,” so I’ll fail this test I already have a guaranteed ‘A’… more or less. 

“Thank you so much Joey, you are amazing,” Andie says with such sincerity I want to run up to the top floor and jump off for being such a betraying bitch. 

“It’s nothing,” I mumble twirling my pen through my fingers. 

~*~ 

Dawson 

“What do you mean Grams locked the door? Shouldn’t she be expecting Jesus or something, wouldn’t want the door locked,” Pacey says still trying to twist the knob. 

“She had some sort of needle work group class thing and Jen insists on locking the door being from New York and all,” Jack explains digging through his pockets. 

“And where are your keys?” I ask standing off to the side with my hands buried in my pockets. 

“Inside,” he finally sighs pointing at the door. 

Pacey falls to his knees flopping up the welcome mat. “What are you doing?” I ask crouching beside him. 

“These are the kind of people who leave keys under the doormat,” he says shimmying his hands along the wood of the porch… nothing. 

“Are any of the windows open?” Pacey asks climbing back to his feet. 
“No it’s fall, why’d we leave the windows open?” Jack replies dumbly. 

Then I remember something, “Jen always has her window open, because she loves wearing a jacket and refuses to sleep without all of her blankets.” 

“I knew that relationship was good for something,” Pacey jokes patting my arm and swinging around the side of the house towards my own, “let’s just grab the latter and—.” 

“Mitch took it into school, they’re changing the light bulbs on the score board or something,” I cringe. 

“Well I’m sure the Ryan’s have—.” 

“You think an old woman and a blond bombshell have a ladder around the house?” Jack smirks, “They donated that thing to the church years ago.” 

“Alright then, Jack, Dawson come with me,” Pacey says leading us towards Jen’s window. We stop staring up at it the window open a crack just like we had anticipated, “Dawson you’re the lightest right?” 

I shrug not quite understanding the purpose until, “Wait you don’t want me to climb up the wall do you?” 

Pacey shakes his head chuckling nervously, “Of course not man, like you could climb up a wall.” 

“Oh, okay good,” I sigh relieved. 

“Jack and I are sort of going to boost you into it,” he explains. 

My eyes widen as I judge the distance between the hard dry grass and Jen’s dangerous slippery window frame, “No.” 

“Oh come on man, where’s your sense of adventure?” Jack throws in, oh great they’re teaming up to kill me. 

“Falling ten feet in an attempt to find a picture is not adventure, it’s insanity.” 

“The worst will be a broken bone tops,” Pacey adds. 

"No," I reply simply backing away. 

"This was your plan," Pacey continues to pry, "You have to make some sacrifices, now come here so we can chuck you through the window." 

"Fine," I surrender, "But if I die you two get nothing." 

"Well no one will know that you've decided this, you haven't had time to revise your will. And let me add that a sixteen year old with a will is just plain wrong, it's like an omen to an early death," Pacey considers adjusting his stance to support my weight. 

"Okay, then at least I hope you two rot away your existence behind bars," I conclude. 

"Don't worry, they'll never find the body, I intend on chopping you up and scattering the body parts throughout your prop drawer." 

"That's slightly disconcerting," I gulp bracing my hands on their heads as I step into Pacey's awaiting hands. "That you have my death planned and all." 

"Ever since The Talented Mr. Ripley came out I've had it in for you man," Pacey smirks. 

"Whatever you do don't go for a little boat ride," Jack adds in grunting as he catches my other foot. 

"Alright Jackers, one, two, three, lift," Pacey and Jack shakily lift me and I'm afraid that this may be it. 

"Now I know how cheerleaders feel," Jack adds his voice raspy as I steady myself against the side of the house. 

"Except for the fact that those girls are like 90 pounds, we definitely have it worse." 

"Do you want me to develop an eating disorder?" I ask mocking offended. 

"If it makes this easier, yes, yes I would," Pacey jokes pushing me a little higher. 

"Almost there," I groan wrapping my fingers weakly over the edge of the roof that hangs just in front of her room. With upper body strength I didn't know I had I hoist myself over the edge breathing heavily as I settle safely on top of her house. 

Dashing down the stairs I open up the front door allowing my accomplices in as we head for the attic. "Explain to me one more time what we're doing?" Pacey asks filing through the pile of pictures I handed to him. 

"We're looking for a picture of Jen's mother," I explain leafing through my own deck. 

"I think I may have something better," Jack says staring wide-eyed at a document. "Emily Ryan born October 18, 1979 to one Helen Ryan, the father is unlisted," he says holding up a birth certificate. "Official Massachusetts document." 

"Has Jen ever mentioned any extraneous siblings to you?" Pacey asks both Jack and I as he looks up from his stack of pictures. 

"She would have if she knew," Jack says still inspecting the document. 

"Grams must know," I reason, "Why else would she have the birth certificate." 

"Don't you think it's wrong to meddle with the Ryan's skeletons?" Pacey wonders. 

"Jen deserves to know." 

~*~ 

Pacey 

I head over to Joey's finding my way into her bedroom where she sits at her desk studying intently. "You know you really should consider locking your door, you don't know what kind of crazy lunatics live in this town." 

"I figure since you’re their leader, you'd tell them to back off seeing as you hate to share," she says tilting her head back to greet me with a quick kiss. "You can get ready for bed; I just need to finish this chapter." She says jotting down a few last notes. 

I kick off my shoes bouncing onto the bed, "So what'cha studying for." 

"Everything," she sighs standing from her desk and stretching her back. 

"Sounds swell," I mutter unbuttoning my Hawaiian shirt. 

"Not so much, I think I'm running myself ragged," she groans then coughs the fakest cough I've ever heard. “So what have you been up to?” She asks resting her hands on my shoulders. 

“Just you’re usual during school high jinx,” I shrug snaking my arms around her waist. 

“I thought I saw you and your disciples gallivanting around the quads this afternoon.” 

“Oh so now I’m the leader, I like the sound of that?” I smirk drawing her closer nibbling on her tender ear lobe. 

“Only when it’s through delinquent acts of strange and unusual,” she quips pecking me on the forehead and heading over to her side of the bed. Pulling her shirt off her head her bare breasts are so close that I can reach out and touch them, "Hand me your shirt." She says popping me out of my trance. 

"Why?" I ask complying. 

"I just want to sleep," she explains pulling my shirt over her shoulders and doing a couple of the buttons. 

"You mean you don't want to," I trail off when she gives me the 'shut the fuck up' face. 

"A girl's not always in the mood," she refutes. 

"Well I was twenty some days running so forgive me for being a little heedless." 

"I just don't feel good," she shrugs my shirt falling lazily off her smooth silky shoulder before she quickly brushes it back up. 

"I know what it is," I smirk pushing my jeans off over my feet, "It had to come around eventually." 

"What is that?" she asks self-consciously. 

"I have three sisters Potter, I know." 

She blushes crawling under the covers pulling them over her head. "I can go home if you want me to," I offer sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed. 

"No, I'm spoiled," she says lifting up the covers in an inviting gesture, "I can't sleep without you." 

I grin one of those grins that warm your heart, "I guess I can restrain those natural urges for a few days." 

"And why is that?" She asks snuggling against my chest our warmth captured beneath her blankets. 

"Because, honestly I don't think I could sleep without you either." 

I spoon her against me and try to drift to sleep but her scent is intoxicating, my hand drifts over the silky fabric of my latest Hawaiian print shirt and subtly begins to play with the buttons and gliding between the folds. I smirk when my hand comes in contact with her hot skin feeling the rise and fall of her breath. 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” she groans in her sleep. 

“I’m not doing anything,” I feign innocence as I drag my lips over the back of her neck my hand voyaging to the swell of her breasts. 

“Not tonight Pacey,” she whines pushing weakly at my hands. 

“I’m not doing anything,” I repeat tracing the shell of her ear with my tongue. 

It’s then that Alexander decides to wail, his cries filling the entire house. “Your turn,” Joey grumbles burying her head into her pillow. 

“My turn? I didn’t think I was in the running.” 

"Please," she asks rolling over and giving me the puppy dog eyes. 

"When was it your turn?" I ask not wanting to get off of this warm comfy mattress. 

"The past 352 days of my life it's been my turn," she pouts in her adorable Joey Potter fashion. "He's teething Pacey, and the abuse never stops." 

"What do I know about babies Jo?" I cringe slowly beginning to melt; damn her plan to break me is working. 

"More then you think Pace," she replies running her smooth warm hands along my neck and tugging lightly on my ears. "And perhaps I'll give you proper retribution," she's got me now. 

"You think that will properly motivate me?" I ask with an amuse brow, "Let me tell you that I do not work without a retainer." 

"Since when did you go to law school?" 

"I didn't, Ben Affleck taught it to me in Good Will Hunting." 

"Damn him with his good looks and ability to reach out to horny young boys," she growls kissing me tenderly, "Now baby, go." 

I crawl out of bed in my wife beater and boxers and head across the hall to the little rug rats nursery. "Hey there little man," I coo hoping a soothing voice will lull the waken dragon. "Penetrated gums got you down?" 

It's not working, Alexander continues to howl even through my summary of Citizen Kane. “Alright little guy, I know right now at the age your at,” I begin scooping the infant into my arms, “you don’t quite notice the woman specimen. But see one day when you turn 11 or 12 you’re going to wake up and smell the roses and that icky girl next door is going to be… well… the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. And when you finally get that girl, honestly, do you want your baby nephew howling in the next room because a couple of teeth are breaking through his gums?” 

He whimpers again his cries breaking slightly but still rather prominent, “Okay how bout this? When you turn 12 I will personally fund your subscription to Playboy.” 

He finally settles down but I don’t think I had anything to do with it. Setting him back in his crib I gently rub his belly one more time before slipping back across the hall. My hand is around the door knob when suddenly the kitchen light shines through the hall. 

“Joey?” I whisper loudly glancing down the hall. 

“Guess again,” a voice that is distinctively Bessie calls back. 

I stand as still as possible hoping that maybe she can’t see me, “Hey there Pacey,” shit. 

“Bessie, I have not talked to you since what May, June?” I say casually figuring this is the only way to save our asses. 

“Is this going to explain what you’re doing in my house at midnight in your underwear?” She asks unfazed, damn these Potter women are good. 

“Probably not,” I sigh nervously licking my lips. 

Joey’s door finally opens and she smiles unaware of the trouble we’ve just gotten into, “Is everything okay?” 

“Not exactly,” I shake my head, “right Bess?” 

“Right Witter.” 

Joey’s eyes widen, “Bessie, you’re home.” 

“I got off work early,” she explains. 

“I was just heading home,” I say breaking the awkward tension escaping into Joey’s room and slipping on my jacket and pants. 

“Didn’t you wear a shirt?” Bessie asks as I slide past her. 

“Yes, but I fear that the process of retrieving it would be very offensive to you,” I cringe heading towards the door, damn post-coital traditions, especially when they come without the coitus activity. 

~*~ 

Joey 

“So I’m going back to sleep,” I say turning back towards my room. 

“Not so fast Josephine,” I’m screwed. 

“Yes Elisabeth?” I retort using her full name. 

“Enlighten me won’t you,” she asks gesturing towards the kitchen. 

I sigh heavily reluctantly following her and sliding into a chair at the table. 

“The last time I checked you were in love with this boy Dawson, remember him, blond hair blue eyes lives across the creek… ring any bells?” 

“One or two,” I nod. 

“But see tonight evidence would prove that you were having relations with another boy we both know, arch enemy creek boys best friend answers to Pacey Witter.” 

“Well now that we have that one figured out,” I exclaim triumphantly attempting to make a mad dash to the door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bessie says pushing me back into my seat. “When mom and dad left you in my care I don’t think that they intended for you to be running around with somebody behind my back.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You know I could forbid you from seeing him, I can preach to you about all the dangers of sex but for some reason I don’t think you’ll listen.” 

Now I feel guilty. 

“At least tell me you’re careful.” 

“I went on the pill a few weeks ago, read up on it at a clinic,” I explain recollecting the time Pacey told me that condoms don’t grow on trees, along with the money that it takes to purchase them. 

“Now care to explain why it was Mr. Witter I found and not a certain proclaimed soul mate?” 

"Dawson and I are really weird right now..." 

"Well you aren't the only two," Bessie adds in. 

"Pacey and I got really close..." 

"I realized that when he was constantly at our house even during daylight hours." 

"And we were both hurting…" 

"So you started having sex." 

"Yes that's the reason that we started…" 

"But it has turned into something more." 

"Not exactly…" 

"It's still all about the sex." 

"No, it's just that—." 

"It was only supposed to be about sex but has underlying tones that would point it into a more meaningful affair." 

"We haven't really discussed anything." 

"Probably because you've been having too much sex, it usually doesn't offer valuable gaps for life altering conversations." 

"It's just, everything is so natural between him and me, it's this weird thing that I never had with Dawson, this familiarity and comfort," I try to explain but it's just so unique and special that I can't think of the words to describe it. 

"So does anybody know?" 

"Not so much, no," I cringe. 

"Joey," Bessie says in her patented scolding tone, "this can only end badly you know that right?" 

"Yes." 

"Do you know what you're going to do exactly when this all comes to a head?" 

"I've considered it," I mumble. 

"Dawson Leery is not the type of person to let a thing like this just roll over Jo," Bessie warns. "And Pacey Witter isn't the type of guy to just let something he wants slips through his fingers." 

"I know," I exclaim with frustration. 

"You're going to have to choose eventually," I drop my head cradling it in my hands unable to handle this heavy burden that I walked into a month ago. "You have to decide whose feelings you're willing to spare and whose heart is eligible to break." 

~*~ 

Andie 

I’m drowning in a sea of B’s, C’s, and D’s unable to come afloat, the drama department needs more rehearsals, student government needs more brownies for the Halloween dance, key club wants me to spend more hours at the soup kitchen, Harvard is dancing farther and farther from my grasp and I can’t get this damn lasagna to heat up. Not that it matters I hate lasagna, but it’s all I have left in the fridge since I haven’t gone grocery shopping, great, another thing to add to my list. Dad hates lasagna too but it doesn’t matter he won’t be home for dinner anyway. Jack used to call lasagna spaghetti and meatballs gone terribly wrong, but it doesn’t matter he’s got another person cooking for him. Tim loved lasagna and mom probably bought it for him even though he’s gone, as far as I’m concerned mom’s gone too, and I myself feel as though I’m fading. 

The tears are starting again, welling up like pools in the corner of my eyes milky pools that will drain down my face and I’ll have to clean that up, along with the lasagna that just splattered on the floor. My hands are shaking I can’t make them stop shaking; I thought I was better, I was fine. They can’t make me go back there, I was fine. 

But then I realize I haven’t been happy since I was there, at the clinic. Maybe because there was so much hope, so much to look forward too. The beginning of the summer I was standing at the edge of a long tunnel it was so dark and scary and all I could see was the faint flicker of light at the end, and every part of me knew if I could reach that end I would be okay. As the summer progressed the light got stronger and stronger and I had so much hope. But then it went out again when I slept with Marc the light was gone but I kept on working towards where it used to be hoping that somehow it would come back. 

But it never did. 

I finally made it to the end of the dark tunnel and he was there, Pacey was there waiting for me, but the love that we had shared, the light of my life was extinguished, gone because I was too stupid, too careless, too reckless to be strong. 

I look down at my hand; the damn cardboard from that damn lasagna has sliced my thumb a small droplet of blood escaping the corner. 

“We better get that cleaned up,” I jump at the sound of his voice; the tears welled up in my eyes falling like waterfalls. 

“No,” I cry refusing to turn to face him, because part of me thinks if I don’t see him then I won’t be crazy. 

“You don’t have to cry Andie,” he says in his soothing voice, “I don’t like the frozen lasagna that much anyway.” 

“This isn’t happening,” I mutter repeatedly under my breath. 

“Why don’t you get a band aid on that cut and I’ll clean up this mess before mom and dad get home from the theater. 

Mom and dad used to always see plays; it was how we knew they always loved each other, the third Friday of every month they would go see the new play downtown. “You better call Jack down he’s probably wondering where his dinner is.” 

“No,” I repeat, I’m trembling again unable to move. 

“Andie,” Tim repeats, his voice closer this time. 

My feet finally come free from the linoleum floor and I take off across the kitchen running as fast as I can and slamming the bathroom door behind me. 

~*~ 

Dawson 

I see Jen’s light finally flicker to a brilliant shine as I grasp the birth certificate in my hand. Maybe Pacey was right, maybe I shouldn’t be mingling in the Ryan’s closet digging up old skeletons that have been hidden for nearly twenty years. 

But I also have to consider Jen, how would I feel if my family hid a sibling from me, that I never got to meet a brother or sister because my parents made a mistake when they were young. 

I head out of my house strutting across our joined lawns on a mission I’m almost there when Eve’s voice stops me in my tracks. 

“Have you found anything yet? Is Eve Whitman’s story still a mystery?” She’s so different now from when I first met her, she no longer has the seductive edge, she’s just a little girl who’s lost and scared and trying to find herself. 

“Eve Whitman is still a mystery,” I nod, “but Emily Ryan’s is just beginning.” 

Her eyes widen as she spots the paper in my hand and she takes a step closer reaching out to grasp it but I pull it away when another voice calls from behind me. 

“Dawson? What are you doing here?” I turn around to see Jen realizing that I’m standing smack in the center of her front yard. 

I look down at the paper, then at Eve, and to Jen, then back to the paper that holds so much history that changes so many lives and I don’t know what to do. 

~*~ 

Jack 

With the idea of Jen’s missing sister running through my head, I feel guilty for voluntarily barely knowing my own now a day. We rarely speak with her busy with her clubs and I busy with football and the former late night talks have vanished since my change in residency. 

I knock on the door a few times waiting for a response but receiving none. Pulling out my key I walk into the entrance way searching the empty house, “Andie?” 

Walking through the kitchen I notice a pan of lasagna splattered across the floor, “Andie?” I call out again. 

It’s then I see the etch of light around the edge of the bathroom door and my heart begins to race. “Andie?” I scream running to the door. 

“You’re not real!” I hear her cry on the other side, “Go away Brown you’re not real!” 

“No Andie, it’s Jack, it’s me it’s Jack it’s not Tim, Tim isn’t here Andie,” I spurt out my palms become slippery my voice begins to crack and I can feel all of my insides turning. 

“No Brown, you’re not real, you’re not, I know you’re not!” 

“Andie come out right now,” I beg. 

“You died Tim!” She wails, “You’re dead!” 

I panic not knowing what to do when I look over at the phone there’s only one person that I can think of to call. 

~*~ 

Pacey 

“Tell me something,” I begin drumming some obscure rhythm on Joey’s stomach as we lounge on the couch watching scary movies. Being the week before Halloween we figured we should celebrate the horror genre in some way shape or form. 

“What is it that you want to know?” She asks readjusting her head on my shoulder and popping a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth. 

“Why do these people just walk into trouble? Why must they be so curious as to walk into the most sketchy of situations?” I ask chewing on a few kernels, “Why when something strange happens they not just say, ‘I’m gonna mind my own damn business’ and go home?” 

“Because what’s scary about that? People don’t just go to the movies week after week to watch two people eat dinner or play scrabble, they want to see them have sex, get chased by a psycho and then have their brains scattered amongst their loved ones.” She explains, “Besides, in Halloween Jamie Lee Curtis’s brother was trying to kill her because he saw her naked, it’s not like she had any control of that situation.” 

“I saw my sister naked once and it never inspired me to go on a killing spree,” I counter. 

“Yeah, well does Gretchen look like Jamie Lee?” 

“Not so much,” I surrender. 

The phone rings. 

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Joey asks glancing at me over her shoulder. 

“Nah,” I shrug grabbing another handful of popcorn. 

The phone rings. 

“It may be important,” she urges. 

“It may not be,” I refute. 

The phone rings. 

“Pick up the phone Pace, if it’s a telemarketer I’ll be in your debt if it’s not, you owe me,” she says getting up from my lap, I pout reaching up to grab her but she’s already back in the kitchen getting a soda her warmth becoming a distant memory. 

“Fine,” I mutter under my breath. 

The phone rings, I pick it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Pacey?” 

“Jack?” 

This is stimulating conversation I wonder if I could make it into a telemarketer category, with Joey in my debt she may finally let me use those hand cuffs. 

“Thank God you’re home, Pace I need your help,” his voice is slightly startling. 

“What is it? Is it Jen or Grams are they okay?” 

“No I’m home, at my house, its Andie, Pace.” 

My heart stops beating and I’m struggling to remember how to breathe. It’s at that moment I realize that a part of me is still in love with her and that’s why those words are hitting me like a brick thrown off of the Empire State Building. 

“Andie, what is it?” I force out the words caught like jelly on my tongue. 

“It’s happening again, Pacey,” he says between whimpers, “she locked herself in the bathroom again and she won’t open up the door, she thinks I’m Tim or something.” 

“Shit,” I mumble under my breath. “Is your dad in town?” 

“No he’s at some convention in Colorado or something he won’t be home till Tuesday.” 

“Okay,” I sigh heavily the ability to breathe slowly coming back to me. “Um I’ll be there in five minutes alright?” 

“Yeah sure, just hurry Pace, it’s really bad,” Jack pleads with me. 

“It’s okay I’ll be right there,” I say hanging up the phone. 

“What was that about?” Joey asked coming out of the kitchen as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. 

Suddenly words and gestures everything just wouldn’t come to me and the simple look in my eyes told her everything. 

“Who, what,” she stumbled over her words, “what’s wrong?” 

“It’s um Andie, she’s going through a lot right now.” 

“Is she going to be okay?” 

“I’m not sure, I just, I have to go over there right now.” 

She takes a step forward placing a comforting hand on my arm and I can feel my whole body relax, “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“No, I should probably do this on my own,” I swallow thickly heading towards the door for my jacket. 

“Do you want me to go home?” She asks timidly. 

“No, stay here, I’ll be back later,” I nod, “I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

She bites back her lip folding her arms over her chest as she heads back to the couch cleaning up the few wayward popcorn kernels and I wonder why it’s so hard to leave. She looks up at me her hazel green eyes glossy with tears and I wonder why she’s crying. I want to make her pain go away to tell her that I love her and that everything will be okay. But it’s strange, it’s complicated, it’s dysfunctional, I’m afraid that if I say the things I’m saying she’ll run away she’ll hate me for feeling something towards her that wasn’t physical. 

Turning back in the door I head out into the cold night determined to save my first love. 

~*~ 

Andie 

I pace back and forth within the confounds of the bathroom as Tim continues to pound on the door, Jack’s out there too they’re both trying to get me to come out, tell me that I’m crazy and send my back to Rhode Island back to the clinic where they only make you think that you’re better. Where they take you away from you’re family and boyfriend and set you up with other crazy people like Marc until you make mistakes and throw away your life just so you’ll be back two months later with another healthy check for room and board. Everyone’s out to get me, everyone! 

“Andie?” It’s not Jack or Tim it’s him. 

“Pacey?” I say running to the door placing my hands on the cool plaster. 

“Andie, could you open up the door you’re brother’s kind of worried.” 

I look at the door and then back at the mirror behind my reflection I can see Tim standing behind me looking through the closet for a band aid, I look down at my thumb which has a stain of blood along the edge but is no longer bleeding. 

I can’t let Pacey in, not while Tim is here, then he’ll know I’m crazy. 

“Just a sec,” I whimper trying to hide my tears. 

“Andie I can’t find any,” Tim says from behind me as my eyes stay trained on his reflection in the mirror. “Could they be in the upstairs bathroom?” He asks heading towards the door. 

“No you can’t go out there,” I say blocking the door. 

“Andie who are you talking to, is there someone in there with you?” Pacey asks casually from the other side. “Is Tim in there Andie?”

“No Tim’s dead Pacey, you think I’m going crazy again don’t you,” I yell back. 

“I never said that Andie I was just wondering if he was in there.” 

“You think I’m seeing him again don’t you?” I cry. 

“Andie just open the door.” 

“Get out!” I scream at Tim. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Pacey yells through the door. 

“No not you, Tim,” I reply. 

“So he is in there.” 

“I’m not crazy, Pacey, I went to the clinic and got better, I’m not crazy, I’m fine,” I plead with him. 

“It’s okay Andie I believe you, now if you just came out everything would be okay.” 

I look back in the mirror and Tim is still standing there his arms open to hug me he’s always there for me. “I’m right here Andie, you don’t need him, he broke you heart, come on,” he smiles at me, “give you’re big brother a hug.”

“No,” I shake my head frantically watching his reflection, “no,” I repeat reaching around the counter and grabbing a soap tray. “Go away Tim, you’re not real.” 

“I’m right here Andie.” 

“No you’re not,” I scream throwing it at the mirror. 

“Andie did you break the mirror again?” Pacey yells through the door, “This is all too familiar Andie, if I didn’t know any better I’d think this was a ploy to get me back, definitely not something a crazy woman would do, perfectly sane if you ask me, right Jack?” 

“Stop it Pacey,” I yell back, “I’m crazy,” I finally admit, “I’m always going to be crazy, I’m never going to get better.” 

I look down at the shattered glass scattered on the floor and can see Tim shinning off one of the shards. Picking it up I throw it against the wall watching the metallic pieces break into smaller pieces. 

“Andie come out right now!” Pacey says sternly. 

“Go away Pacey, you don’t even care!” I reply looking down at my hand now covered with small nicks from the mirror I threw. But the cuts don’t hurt they feel good, they make me feel better because the pain doesn’t compare to my aching heart. 

“I’m not going anywhere Andrea McPhee, you know that.” 

“Why Pacey? Why do you care?” I cry picking up another piece of glass allowing it to lightly tickle my skin. 

“You know why I care Andie,” Pacey calls back. “Tim may come and go Andie, but I will always, always be here, you know that right?” 

“No,” I whimper back applying more pressure onto my skin, my eyes rolling back in ecstasy as the metal penetrates my ivory arm. “You’re gone Pacey, you left.” 

“I didn’t leave Andie,” he pleads with me, “even if I’m not there the way you want me to I’ll always be right here.” 

I slide along the length of the floor resting my head against the wall another whimper passing my lips as my mind and heart conflict against each other. 

The glass feels so good the edge of the mirror already stained red, but nothing hurts, I’m numb and I don’t want to be here anymore. 

“Pacey I’ll miss you.” 

“What? Andie what are you doing?” He calls back frantically, “Andie this isn’t funny what are you doing?” 

I slide the back to the bath tub sitting on the edge while I look in the shard of mirror in my hands and the smeared reflection of me looking back. I feel disgusted with myself I hate who I am and I want to go away. 

“Andie please open this door,” Pacey calls banging against it heavier and heavier. 

I take in a deep breath placing the shiny metal on the edge of my wrist and pulling it heavily across watching as the blood pours down. 

“Andie don’t do anything, please,” Pacey continues to yell, his voice growing more and more distant, “Andie please, I love you don’t do anything stupid.” 

Everything is growing dark and I can vaguely see two figures rush in around me their voices a mush of lost sounds that I can’t quite comprehend. They grab my wounds they rush around the colors drag and it’s all a brilliant scheme. Is this what death feels like just the free falling slow moving world where suddenly all the pain is gone. 

But then I do feel pain my wrist aches and stings and I feel as if my hand will fall off at any moment there’s heavy pressure upon it and I wish it would just go away… 

…and then everything goes black. 

My eyes slowly drift open and I forget where I am or where I was. I try to speak but my throat is so heavy with mucus that no words can escape. 

“Hey there,” his voice warms my heart, my every inch. 

“Pacey?” I finally work out my eyes fluttering open and shut every time his smooth warm fingers run across my brow. 

“You scared me so much tonight, McPhee,” he whispers dropping a kiss on my forehead. The sensation of his lips on my skin is amazing, a dream come true. 

“I’m so sorry Pacey, I was so lonely and scared and then…” 

“It’s okay Andie, it’s not you’re fault, it’s all of ours, for shutting you out when you needed help,” he looks so conflicted and so full of hate for himself. 

“No, it’s me.” 

“Sh,” he cuts me off smoothing his hand over my hair. “You’re going to be alright, me and Jack and Joey and Jen and Dawson we’re all going to make sure you’re okay. We’re not going to send you away this time, we’re going to make you better.” 

“I’m so scared Pacey,” I whimper. 

“It’s okay to be, but don’t worry everything is going to be okay,” he promises. “Just get some sleep okay.” 

“Alright,” I nod glancing down at my wrist which is wrapped in bandages, the faint tint of pink bleeding through. 

~*~ 

Joey 

It’s nearly two when I finally hear a scratching by his window, his mother came home hours ago and I’ve been hiding in his room ever since scared out of my mind that something happened to Andie. 

I open it for him helping him climb through as he looks up at me I fear the worst. He looks awful his eyes red with tears his hair jostled and just this broken feeling around him. 

“Is she okay?” 

“She’s going to be, hopefully,” he says trying to stay strong. 

“What happened?” I ask. 

“She tried to kill herself, Joey,” he says finally breaking down in tears in my arms. 

“But she’s okay right?” 

He nods his face buried in my shoulders as I pull him closer holding him tight. He resembles a child now, so full of fear and I know he’s blaming it on himself. 

“I can’t do this anymore Joey, I can’t keep on hurting her more then I already have.” 

“I know Pace, I know, I understand,” I offer running my fingers through his hair as he collapses to his knees. 

“We can’t do this anymore, we can’t be together when everything else is so complicated,” he cries more then I’ve ever seen him and I follow him to his knees cradling him in my lap. 

“It’s not you’re fault Pacey,” I keep on saying. 

“It is,” he refutes burying his head deeper into my shoulder. 

“Don’t blame yourself Pace,” I say rocking him gently, “you always blame yourself for everything but it’s not your fault, you can’t carry the world on your shoulders, no man is that strong.” 

“But why do I feel that way?” He questions looking up into my eyes, his gaze is so vulnerable. 

“Because you have such a beautiful heart,” I say stroking his cheek, “that you feel everybody’s pain and you want to fix it, but sometime it’s an inside job sometime people need to fix it themselves.” 

“Then why do I feel—.” 

“You can’t always be the hero Pace, sometimes the damsel has to take care of herself.” 

“Still I can’t do this anymore, I can’t sleep with you day after day when Andie needs me, she needs all of us.” 

“I understand, and that’s what we’re going to do, we’re going to help her but she’s got to get better herself.” He nods a few times and I realize that it’s over, this little physical fling that we’ve had has ended. And I’m disappointed, not because I’ll miss the sex, because I’ll miss him. I never realized what an amazing person that he was until this year and how my heart longs for him. “I should get going,” I say detangling myself from him as I climb to my feet. 

“Jo,” he whispers catching my hand, “just one more night.” 

I look down at him, this strange twinkle in his eyes that takes my breath away and I know I’ll stay.