Title: Vacation: All I Never Wanted

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

Characters: Marco, Alex, Paige, Dylan, plus a few original characters, from Trade Off.

A/N: So...I decided to do a sequel. It was too much fun not to play with Patricia, Emily, and Daniel a little more, lol. This takes place about...around three months after Trade Off, give or take a month or so. Doesn't matter much.

A/N2: For the life of me, I cannot remember what Paige and Dylan's parents' names are, or if the names were ever even mentioned. So, their names are going to be John and Cathy, for no particular reason. They were just the first random names that popped into my head, lol. Also, if I make any continuity errors, and contradict somehow what I wrote in Trade Off, I apologize in advance. I'll be as careful as I can to make sure everything coincides, but I wasn't counting on a sequel when I wrote Trade Off. But I'll try to get it right. :D

POV: Alex's, at least for this chapter. I think I'm going to be switching like I did last time. And now, I'm gonna shut up, lol.


I should have known something was up. I should have been able to tell. One of the most useful weapons that comes with knowing somebody well for a considerably long period of time is the ability to sense things concerning them a mile off. Read their mind, predict their thoughts before they even think them.

Somehow, that failed me.

And so I walked right into the trap.

It was a quarter to six, and one of the rare occasions when all four of us, that is, me, Paige, Dylan, and Marco... all sat down and ate dinner together during the week. Typically, Marco would grab something after class, Paige would get a late lunch after work, Dylan would eat after hockey practice, and I would get something with some people at the little cafe where I now worked. Anyway, Curly's hockey practice had been cut short, Paige and Marco hadn't eaten, and I happened to be off today, so we were all eating dinner together tonight.

In retrospect, I suppose I should have seen past Paige's lame attempts at flattery and sucking up that she had been employing lavishly all evening. She laughed uncontrollably at every joke I cracked, some of which weren't even funny, she called me 'honey-bear,' which she only ever does if she wants something, and let me choose what I wanted on TV, even going so far as to miss her favorite show to let me finish watching a gruesome vampire flick that I knew she was hating every minute of.

I chalked it all up to PMS. Paige Michalchuk Syndrome.

Paige was an unusual person by nature. Seemingly random mood swings that came out of nowhere were common, even expected. But I really, really should have known something was up when I accidentally spilled orange soda all over her precious Lifehouse CD, effectively destroying it beyond all hope, and she only shrugged and said it was an accident.

Forget PMS, the girl was obviously losing her mind.

The reason for all of this, all of the sucking up, all the generous compliments and kind gestures, so un-Paige-like, of course had to be a part of some greater plan. As it was, it was only a matter of hours before I found out the real reason behind her behavior. There was a brief lapse in conversation at the dinner table as all four of us took a bite or sipped our drinks at the same time. Paige, obviously seeing this as her opening, like a predator sensing weakness, pounced on the opportunity.

"So..." she said, brandishing her fork animatedly. A few sauce-coated spaghetti noodles fell off back into her bowl. "I heard from my mom today."

Marco looked up interestedly, but Dylan did not appear surprised or intrigued at all. This, I realize now, should have been just another sign. He didn't act surprised because he wasn't. If Paige had heard from her mother, then Dylan must have, too. Now, I wondered if Curly had been treating Marco anything like Paige had been treating me. These Michalchuks knew how to get what they wanted.

"Yeah, she said Ray and Charlotte are going on vacation," Paige continued.

"Nice. Where?" I asked.

"To their cabin," she said, stirring her spaghetti idly. "They own some land by the lake...them and my parents; they go in on it half in half together. There's two cabins up there... our family's got one, and Ray and Charlotte have the other one. They're all secluded in the woods, out in the middle of nowhere. It's got a view of the lake and everything," she explained to Marco and me.

"That's kind of cool. When are they leaving?" asked Marco.

"A couple weeks."

I nodded, taking another bite of spaghetti, and ended up choking on most of it at her next words.

"They want us all to come with them."

Marco's eyes widened, as I coughed and spluttered next to him. Damn Italian food.

"What?" I demanded, once I had finally cleared my air passage. Dylan, I noticed, was pushing spaghetti around in his bowl, avoiding Marco's gaze, which had morphed into an accusing glare. Yep, I'll bet he'd been sucking up all day, too, and Marco, like me, was just now realizing why.

Paige shrugged. "Ray, Charlotte, Daniel, and Patricia are going on vacation in a couple weeks. They asked my parents and me and Dylan to come, and they said you and Marco were welcome. Emily's coming with Daniel, and Anthony is supposed to be coming with Patricia."

"Excuse me, but do the words Michalchuk Easter Celebration mean anything to you?" I demanded harshly. "After everything Patricia did...after everything that psycho Emily did... you want to go on vacation with them?"

Paige grimaced. "Well, not really. But..."

"Our parents asked us to," Dylan finally spoke up. He sounded weary, rather defeated, and suddenly I wondered exactly what his parents could possibly have said to them both to get them to agree to this.

"We couldn't say no," Paige added, her bright blue eyes going wide. She had that annoyingly helpless, innocent look that she knew damn well I couldn't say no to. But I sure as hell could try.

"They said..." Dylan began, then sighed. It came out as half a groan. "They said this may be the last vacation we're going to get to have together. With me graduating from University next year, and with Paige's career...we're all really moving on. For good," he pleaded with us to understand. "They guilt tripped us into it, guys."

Marco moaned. "But you had to say 'yes?'"

"You're not exactly immune to your parents, either," Dylan pointed out. "If I remember correctly, I'm still just your barely-a-friend roommate who happens to be gay, to your dad."

Marco sat back in his seat, scowling, but unable to argue with that.

I, however, could. "So, why do we have to go?" I was probably whining at this point. I didn't care. No fucking way was I putting up with the dysfunctional Adams family for any prolonged period of time.

"Because," said Paige weakly. "You're our significant others. You're important to us, and you're important to our families," she pouted.

I raised an eyebrow. Adorable, but not going to cut it.

"It's not a vacation without you," Dylan added, employing his own Michalchuk Pout and turning it full force on Marco.

"Please?" Paige's eyes grew, if possible, even wider, but I stood my ground.

"I'm not going," I said firmly.

"Neither am I. I've had enough of Patricia to last me a lifetime," agreed Marco.

"But we won't even be in the same house as her!" Paige insisted. "Or Emily," she added quickly.

"How far apart are the cabins?"

"They're...well... that's not the point!" she said, a little flustered. "If you would just—" began Paige again, preparing herself for another argument, but Dylan cut her off.

"Forget it, Paige. They said they don't want to go. Just drop it," he sighed again dejectedly, his gaze returning to his food.

"But— " spluttered Paige. "But they want—"

"Paige, drop it, okay? They're not coming," said Dylan, a little more firmly, though still looking rather glum.

Paige let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. It's just Mom and Dad—"

"I know, Paige," said Dylan. "I know, okay?"

That was when it happened. The first sniffle, barely perceptible, caught my attention from across the table. Then it happened again, a little louder this time. I barely had time to wonder what was going on before a single pearly tear, catching the light from overhead, streamed down Paige's porcelain cheek. She wiped it away quickly with the back of her hand.

"It was supposed to be special," she said quietly to her brother, her voice a little choked up. "The last vacation...like we were kids again. And they were supposed to come...I wanted us all to be...togeth..." but Paige's voice gave out on her here, and she dissolved into quiet sobs. Jesus, it was nothing to cry over. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if PMS of the other type was at all to blame for my girlfriend's current behavior.

"Shh... I know, Paigey. It's all right. We'll still go. Me and you, okay? Just like old times," but Dylan, too, despite his words, patted her back only half-heartedly, as though not entirely convinced himself that the situation was still as desirable as it had once been. Not that it had ever been particularly inviting, but you know what I mean.

I glanced over at Marco, who was eying them both nervously, obviously discomforted by Paige's tears. When Dylan sighed sadly, and rubbed the hand that was not patting Paige's back consolingly over his tired eyes, it seemed Marco could not take any more. Not if his best friend was crying and his boyfriend was clearly suffering.

"Okay!" he said loudly, making Paige look up in surprise from where her face was buried in her hands. "Okay, I'll go," and he sat back in his chair, looking sullen and moody.

Dylan gave him a grateful look. "You will?" he asked, as though hardly daring to hope, sounding as hopelessly pathetic as his still weeping sister in that moment.

Marco nodded shortly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah. Whatever."

I shook my head at him, then glanced uneasily back over at Paige, who was still crying. She had paused momentarily to offer Marco a watery smile, then upon catching sight of me again, dissolved back into tears. As silent sobs racked her small body, I felt my heart being tugged at, my conscience giving me that familiar nudge.

I growled, slumping forward on the table with my head in my hands, and my elbows on the table propping me up. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and sat back up again.

"Oh, fine!"

At the grudging huff of agreement, Paige peeked up from her hands again, sniffling pitifully. "What?" she asked, her voice still choked and a little nasally due to her now red and stuffy nose. "You'll—you'll go?"

I nodded, already hating myself with every fiber of my being for agreeing to this. "Yeah, I'll fucking go."

A bright smile lit up her tear-streaked face, illuminating her eyes, like two brilliant sapphires. "Thank you, Alex!" she cried happily. And that seemed to be the cue, because both she and Dylan threw back their chairs and stood up, and next second, to Marco's surprise and my slight irritation, they were on us or behind us or on top of us, kissing and hugging and thanking us profusely.

"All right, all right, get off," I said, swatting Dylan away as he released Marco and came to hug me in turn. Next to me, Marco was exchanging a quick hug with Paige, looking exasperated and a little relieved that she had stopped crying. I'd bet twenty bucks those tears were fake.

I totally hate my girlfriend.

"This is going to be the best vacay ever!" squealed Paige, letting go of Marco and bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. Dylan, thankfully, had refrained from squealing or jumping up and down, and settled for a wide, euphoric grin.

"It better be," I grumbled.

"You won't regret it, Alex. It'll be great! Me and you, a lake view...how romantic is that?" Paige's voice could barely contain her excitement. It was almost disconcerting how her attitude could change in a split second like that.

"I may even show you my special secret cove by the water," Dylan said seductively as he trailed a finger down over Marco's shoulder, who smiled reluctantly and rolled his eyes.

"It'll be the best vacation you've ever had!" Paige promised. "Have we mentioned lately how much we love you guys?" Yeah, yeah. When have I heard that before?

Oh, right. Try every time she tries to suck me into whatever fucked situation she's managed to land herself in.

You'd really think I'd have learned by now.