Author's Note: This story takes place after Airborne and disregards any later episodes. This is my first chaptered fic… It'll probably be about 5 chapters, although I may change my mind.

Disclaimer: Chase, Cameron, and all the others are not mine. Jillian, however, is. :)

Chapter 1: Waiting

Chase sat at the table in the crowded café, waiting for his friend. He had known Jillian (or "Jilli" as her friends called her) since high school, and was about to see her for the first time in years. She still lived in Australia, so they didn't see each other often. They usually communicated through e-mails and occasional phone calls, but now she was taking her first ever trip to the U.S., and he was anxious to see her.

He had met Jilli when he was in his senior year of high school, and she was in 8th grade. His school was very large, and, although mainly a high school, also had a program for 7th and 8th graders. It was called a "high school prep program." This name had earned its student the name "preppies" long before Chase or Jilli came to the school. The "preppies" took most of their classes in a different part of the school, but had high school credit classes and lunch with the high schoolers. Even when in the same room, preppies were always separate from high schoolers. It was an unwritten law of the school.

Some of the teachers had come up with the idea for the seniors to write letters to the 8th graders about high school. Chase, along with a lot of other high schoolers, had thought that it would make more sense to write the letters to the freshmen, but the teachers wanted to give the 8th graders an entire year to study the seniors' advice… apparently. The letters would be an English assignment, but the teacher said she wouldn't read them before passing them on. After seeing some of the letters after they'd been sent, the teachers decided that probably hadn't been a very good idea.

Chase's letter definitely wasn't the best piece of writing he had ever created, but he had bigger things on his mind at that time. His father had left and he was busy trying to keep his mother from killing herself through alcohol. A lot of his friends had noticed changes in him starting when he was fifteen. He had always been very closed-off about his family, but things were different. Before, Chase had jumped at any invitation to go somewhere after school, to help friends with homework, to do anything that would give him an excuse to not go home. They had realized that and had started trying to help out. They learned very quickly that he was not going to talk or accept any type of condolence. The best way they could help him was to give him an excuse to stay away from home.

But at around 15, that had all changed. Suddenly, he was busy every day. He had no free time to spend with anyone. He always went straight home. Naturally, they were worried, but he refused to talk. He was becoming even more mysterious and closed-off. Before, they had known that he wanted to stay away because of his parents' fighting, but now, there was no excuse. They slowly accepted that there was nothing he would allow them to do. They began to drift apart, little by little. They still ate lunch together, still said "hi" in the halls, still chatted between classes. But they were not the type of friends you share secrets with… not anymore.

Of course, Chase couldn't tell his friends that he had to go straight home each day because he was taking care of his alcoholic mother, because then they would pity him. And he couldn't stand pity. Someone might even call social services. That was the last thing he wanted; for him to end up with a foster family to treat him like glass, for his mother to end up taking care of herself and dying, for his father to possibly be brought back into the picture.

So Chase was feeling very lonely and incredibly worn out from taking care of his mother and dong schoolwork in between. He had long ago dropped all extra-curricular activities, for he needed to spend as much time as possible at home. When he wrote his letter, it probably sounded depressed and was probably full of errors, but he didn't care. What was the 8th grader gong to do, confront him about it?

That is exactly what she did. Chase was astounded when, halfway through lunch, an 8th grader he had never met before walked up to him and asked, "Are you Robert Chase?"

This girl was attracting attention from everyone at the table, even the people Chase didn't know. They were very curious about what reason a little girl like this would have to approach a senior. She didn't seem to notice. "Yes…" said Chase, just as curious as the others.

She hadn't really needed to ask, because he was wearing an ID with his name on it, but was probably to be polite. "I want to talk to you about the letter you gave me." She got to the point very quickly.

A few of the other teenagers a Chase's table started to laugh, others were shocked by this girl's audacity. "What, you came back for more tips, little kid?" Said one boy that Chase didn't know, "I thought you were supposed to compare letters with each other. We've got better things to do than give advice to you little preppies."

She didn't leave. She grabbed his ID card and looked at the name. "You sent a letter to one of my friends." She commented. "It wasn't very helpful. It was actually very rude and had a lot of mistakes in it. I honestly wonder how you got this far without knowing simple spelling and grammatical rules that most learn in grade school. So forgive me when I say that we felt the need to look elsewhere for tips."

At this point, the boy was growing more and more angry, and more and more onlookers were flocking towards the table. "We don't have any stupid tips for you." He said. "So go leave us alone."

"I was never talking to you in the first place," she said. "I was talking to Robert."

"Well this is our table, and we say leave." Said another boy.

She simply rolled her eyes. "You sound like eight-year olds." She said before starting to walk off. "I'm Jillian, by the way," she called to Chase over her shoulder before joining the other 8th graders.

By the end of the day, Chase had forgotten about the strange 8th grader under the stress of everything else in his life. He went into the house and found that his mother had discovered a stash of alcohol while he was at school. He had learned long ago that his mother was a very mean drunk. He attempted to take the rest of the dangerous substance away, but she became angry and hurled an empty bottle at him. He ducked in time and the bottle shattered against the wall, sending shards of broken glass everywhere. Chase decided that the best course of action would be to wait for her to fall asleep, as she always did. He went outside, seeking fresh air and a distraction. He found one but not the other. He lived only a short walk from his school, so he decided to see if any of his friends were still hanging out outside. He hadn't gone anywhere with them in years, but he needed someone to talk to then.

Unfortunately, they were gone. However, the 8th grader Jillian from lunch was standing by the corner. He didn't know what she wanted, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with a little kid right then. He started to walk away, when she stood in front of him, blocking his path. He sighed and attempted to walk around her, and she grabbed his arm. He then realized that he couldn't overpower an eighth grade girl. He hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in a long time and probably wasn't eating enough at the time, but he hadn't realized how weak he had gotten. He felt strangely pathetic. Jillian, too, seemed quite surprised at how easy he was to restrain. True, she was rather tall for her age, but he was still much larger.

Chase sat on the curb and resigned himself to answering her questions. "What do you want?"

She looked at him and he was surprised at how calming her gaze was… he hardly knew her, but he felt like he could trust her with anything. "You could start by telling me what you do outside of school that tires you out so much."

Chase gave her a what do you know look, so she explained, "You have bags under your eyes every day, you look exhausted all the time, you seemed to be about to fall asleep in the lunchroom today, and then there's the fact that you didn't even have enough energy to overpower me a few seconds ago."

Chase couldn't help himself before the words slipped out: "Is it really that obvious?"

She nodded and sat down next to him. "Look, Robert," she said, "I know you just met me today, but I can tell something is seriously wrong, and if you don't tell someone, things are going to get a lot worse. And, if it helps, I can probably keep secrets better than anyone else in this school."

And, with that look on her face, he could tell that she meant it, that she really did care, and before he knew what was going on, he was spilling everything; his father leaving, his mother's alcoholism, his responsibility to take care of her. She didn't once interrupt him. She listened, and she sympathized. He couldn't believe how much better everything felt once he told someone. It was like a weight being lifted from him that he no longer had to carry this secret alone.

They didn't talk very much afterwards… Jillian seemed to understand that he needed time to think. Eventually, he decided that he should get home to his mother. "Thanks." He said, somewhat awkwardly, as he got up. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Jillian."

"Call me Jilli." She said, as she got up too.

They ate lunch together the next day. They drew a lot of attention, since preppies and seniors usually didn't even acknowledge each other's existence, but they didn't really care. Jilli had been able to do what Chase's friends couldn't: get him to talk.

They were best friends after that, and Jilli was always able to offer help and advice to Chase. She convinced him to pursue a career when he had been thinking about staying at home with his mother. When he was in Seminary School, it was she who convinced him that it wasn't right for him. She visited only once, but her words remained in his memory forever: "I know this isn't what you really want. If you actually think that you should be a Priest, that's fine, but is you're just doing this to spite your father, it isn't worth it. I understand that you don't want to accept his money for college, but you shouldn't let your anger keep you from doing something great… you were always so good in science class… and you can still spite him some other way. Pick an unpopular specialty, move out of the country, do something big that won't keep you from becoming as great as you could be."

He left the seminary a week later.

Even when separated by half the globe, she helped him. He sent e-mails every day and never kept anything from her. She still gave advice and they never broke the bond they had created so long ago. She helped him when he feared for his job after Vogler, when his father died, and when he was sued. He was there for her problems too… when she got robbed, when her sister got sick… he was unable to give advice like Jilli could, but he listened and helped to console her. Separated by miles, they clung to each other.

Now Jilli was a psychiatrist, a job that fit her personality perfectly.

And now, back in 2007, Chase sat at the table, anxiously waiting, when he saw a very familiar-looking woman walk in the door.

----------------------------------

This chapter was mainly a flashback, but all the ones after is will be set entirely in the present.

Chase's school is based off of mine, btw. The whole "preppies" thing is all real, along with the stuff about separate universes.

Please review! I need to know that people are reading this before I update it.