Jack's POV:

With a small smile on my face, I watched as my god daughter tried to get her spoon from her bowl to her mouth. Not only did most of the food fall off of the spoon but she also had trouble getting the spoon in her mouth. It was a feat that she had just started to try and master but I knew that trying to help her would only lead to her cries of frustration. She might only be one year old but she had a set of lungs on her and a stubborn streak that matched her Mom's. As stubborn as she was though, I knew it wouldn't be long before she gave up on the spoon and start using her hands.

Little Amy was such a joy to have aroung the apartment. She brighten the place up and these days that was a very special feat. I enjoyed having both her and Jen around the place and was dreading the moment I knew would eventually be coming. Jen's relationship with Dawson had flourished over the last year. The two couldn't have been happier even a country apart. It looked as if Jen and Dawson had finally gotten their timing right. I was just waiting for Jen to drop the word that she was heading to California, which was the last thing I wanted to hear especially given what had been going on around here the past week.

"At least someone can still smile around here."

Jen's weary voice cut through my thoughts. I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, looking just as weary as she had sounded.

"How can you not smile at that sight," I told her.

"I guess you have a point," Jen said looking from me to her daughter. I saw a small trace of a smile start to form on her face only to be replaced with the sadness again. "It just doesn't seem right to be smiling today."

"We didn't die Jen. We need to go on with our lives. Its what she would have wanted."

"Funny thing is, I just spent the last hour trying to convince Dawson of that and I still find it hard to believe it myself."

I stood up and crossed over to her. I held my arms out to her and she easily fell into them, resting her head on my chest. After all the comforting she had done today, I knew she needed a little herself whether she would admit to it or not.

"How is Dawson?" I asked her breaking the silence that had fallen over the kitchen.

"He's taking it hard. Even though it didn't work, she was a important part of his life for awhile. Its hard losing someone who meant that much to you. Have you talked to Pacey? He looked so sad at the funeral today. I haven't seen him that sad since A . . ." Jen let her voice die away.

"Since Andie's funeral," I finished for her, thinking of my sister. I still missed her and all her crazy ways. I missed her and I missed Tim but both of them would have never wanted me to stop living my life. They would want me to go on. To live my life to the fullest and knowing that was what gave me the strength to go on every morning. "I did try calling him," I admitted. "He wasn't home though. I did talk to Joey though, and it seems Pacey's method of dealing with everything is to throw himself into his work. He's at the Ice House."

"Well, I guess there are worse things he could be doing," Jen said.

The small clatter of a baby spoon hitting the kitchen floor, interruppted our conversation. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Amy had given up not only with trying to use the spoon, but she had evidently had enough of eating altogether as she was now drawing designs on the high chair tray, using her food as fingerpaint.

"Guess, she's done," Jen said breaking away. She crossed over to the sink, got a clean cloth and washed off her duaghter's hands and face. Sitting the cloth on the tray, she picked Amy up out of her chair. "Have you had enough of that food?" Jen asked her daughter. She recieved a reply of baby chatter. "Look at the mess you made. Mama is going to have to clean that up now."

"I'll get it," I told her, smiling again. I couldn't help it. Walking over to the high chair, I picked up the cloth Jen had left there and started cleaning up the tray. Jen pulled out a chair and sat down with Amy in her lap.

"Any chance you tried calling Doug?"

I paused momentarily in my task. Her question took me by surprise but in reality it shouldn't have. This wasn't the first that she had mentioned my former lover since we had gone our seperate ways. Sometimes it was hard to believe that had been over a year ago. A year during which we exchanced civil pleasentries when our paths crossed. During which there wasn't a single day that I hadn't thought about him. Hadn't hoped the phone with ring, and Doug would be on the other end of the line wanting to give what we had another try.

He hadn't though. I was starting to think he never would. He had said he needed time and space to figure things out. A year had passed and apparently he had yet to figure things out. Why was I holding on?

"I thought about calling him but then I stopped myself. I'm not sure I'm the person he wants to hear from. I was going to talk to him at the funeral today but he disappeared so quick I never got a chance," I told her rinsing the dish rag out in the sink. "I think he's taken Gretchen's death the hardest of all of them."

"All the more reason for someone to try talking to him," Jen told me. I could feel her eyes on me. Staring at me. Waiting for my reply. I didn't know what to say though. "I'm going to go lay Amy dow for the night," Jen finally said standing up and walking out of the kitchen.

Needing something to do, I started washing some of the dirty dishes sitting on the sink. Once again I found my thoughts wandering to Doug.

He had looked so loss at the funeral. Kind of like he had after the attack on him last fall. And what I had told Jen had been true, I had planned on talking to him at the funeral but then after I had said my condolences to Pacey and then turned to talk to Doug, he had disappeared. There had been a time that I would've tried following him but I wasn't sure that was my place anymore.

Wiping off the last plate, I heard the doorbell ring.

"I got it," I heard Jen call.

Listening to her go to the door, I opened the cupboard to put the plate away.

"Doug!" I heard Jen exclaim. That was the last person I had expected to be at our door. "Come in," Jen said.

I put the dish cloth down and headed for the living room. Doug was walking into our apartment and Jen closing the door behind him when I entered. I could see that he had been crying and he still had that lost look on his face. In his arms he held little Mercy, Gretchen's daughter.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you two like this, but I didn't know where else to go," Doug said.

"You know you're always welcome here," I told him meaning every word. Although it was awkward I was glad to see him here. Glad he felt that he could come here.

"Doug have a seat," Jen said ushering him over to couch and sitting down next to him. "Can I hold her?" she asked holding her hands out for Mercy. Doug handed her over. "I thought your Mom would have her."

"That's what I'm out trying to avoid," Doug said as I sat down in the arm chair. "She's trying to get custody of Mercy. Ever since she found out that Gretchen was rapped and planning on having the baby eight months ago neither of my parents have wanted anything to do with her or the baby. They hadn't even seen their grandchild until yesterday and now she wants custody of Mercy."

"But you're the godfather. Gretchen had wanted you to . . ."

"I know and that's one promise I intend on keeping although lord knows I have no idea what I'm getting into. What do I know about raising a kid."

"You don't have to do it alone," I told him. "You've got friends and family that would be more than willing to help you out."

"I still can't believe this is happening. Its like a nightmare. Not even three weeks old and Mercy doesn't have a mother. She'll never know . . ." Doug's words broke off in tears.

I looked toward Jen who was sitting next to him. She indicated that I should comfort him using the baby in her arms as an excuse. With a sigh I moved off the chair and knelt down in front of Doug.

"It's going to be okay," I said softly to him putting my arms around him. I was expecting him to resist. Instead he fell into my arms. I held him tighter wishing this were happening under different circumstances. That he was in my arms because he wanted us to be together again not because he was grieving for his sister