Title: Coming Together
Disclaimer: I don't own Dawson's Creek. I just play with them from time to time.
Synopsis: My version of how Jack and Doug got together.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Some violence, references to adult subject matter, homosexuality.
*********************************
Chapter 1: Unfavorable Circumstances
*********************************
Jack McPhee sighed as he left the school building. Finally! This was the fourth night in a row he'd left the school after eight o'clock, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. But he knew that wouldn't be the case. There was just still too much he needed to do. But that work could be done on his laptop at home, in comfortable warmth of his apartment.
Thinking of warmth made him shiver. As he turned the collar on his coat up, he was forced to admit just how much he hated the cold. What he wouldn't give for spring to come! Of course, there was no use in thinking about spring now, in the middle of November.
He reached his car and slipped the key into the lock. It wasn't as if he really thought anyone was going to break into his car here, but it was hard to break the habit he'd developed in New York. He let go of the key for a moment and leaned against the car. "Maybe I should just move in here," he muttered aloud. "These fourteen-hour days are-" He broke off, hearing a noise somewhere behind him.
Dropping his bag to the wet ground, he spun around. "Who's there?" His only answer was a strange feeling - anxiety? dread? - that washed over him. Jack turned back to his car, fumbling for the keys that were still in the door.
Just as he found them, he heard footsteps behind him. But before he could turn around, he felt something hit the back of his legs, making his knees buckle. He fell to the pavement, hitting his chin on the car door and landing on his side. He just had time to register the pain of his face scraping against the rough ground before the beating started.
The first kick connected with his stomach. Gasping, he doubled over in pain, only to arch back as another blow caught him in the back. He felt several more well aimed kicks, too numerous to even register where on his body he was being hit. In a last ditch effort to protect himself, he threw his arms around his head, trying to protect his head and face from their blows and the ground. The effort was to know avail. One more kick connected with Jack's already throbbing jaw. His head snapped back, cracking into the ground, and Jack didn't feel anything anymore.
*********************************
Pacey swore under his breath as he looked at the still form of his best friend in the hospital bed. His face was a massive bruise - where he wasn't scraped to hell, probably from connected with the surface of the parking lot. His arm had been set in a cast. His leg, thankfully not broken, though bruised to hell, is bandaged and suspended. Where the blanket rests, halfway up his chest, the bandages the doctors applied to help with his broken ribs are visible.
Stepping into the room, Pacey sees the stitches in his forehead, and remembers being told there are identical - if more numerous - ones on the back of his head, where it apparently hit the ground. "Damn," he muttered again.
"He'll be all right," a voice said gently behind him. Pacey turned to face his brother, Doug, who was the sheriff in Capeside.
"I know. He's been through worse."
Doug frowned. That was something he definitely hadn't heard about. But he doubted Pacey felt like talking about it. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "How are you holding up?"
Pacey shrugged. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you're the one who found him like that."
"So?"
"So, finding your best friend unconscious, beaten, in a dark parking lot isn't exactly your run of the mill day."
"I'll deal with it, Doug."
*********************************
Jack opened his eyes slowly and, as the room swam in front of him, immediately wished he hadn't. But he didn't close them. Blinking rapidly, he struggled to bring the room into focus. He wanted to know where he was.
Antiseptic smell. Steady, rhythmic beeping. Nearly silent, except for muffled voices outside the room. A hospital.
Why was he-? He moved his arm and groaned in pain. Suddenly, the memories of the attack out by his car came flooding back.
He felt his body tense and closed his eyes against the images that assaulted him. Suddenly, he was no longer in the hospital bed. He was in the school parking lot, being beaten all over again. He struggled against his attackers, trying desperately to shield himself from their blows. "No. No, please," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Just as suddenly, he heard voices and felt hands on him. But this touch was gentle, almost soothing. The voices he recognized, though he couldn't place them at first.
"Jack," someone said, sounding far away. "Come on, man, it's all right. You're safe."
Slowly, Jack opened his eyes again, and was able to put a face to the voice.
"Pacey?" he whispered.
"Yeah, its' me, man. And Doug's here too."
"Doug?"
"Yeah. My brother - Deputy Doug?"
"Sheriff," another voice corrected. The other man stepped forward so Jack could see him.
Pacey waved dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your newfound importance is not at issue here. We are trying to find out who used poor Jack as a punching bag."
"Yes, we are, and on that note, I think it would be better if I spoke to Jack alone?" Doug said. There was no annoyance in his voice - he knew his brother was worried about his friend. Doug glanced at Jack. "That okay with you, Jack?" There was definitely fear in the younger man's eyes.
"Uh, yeah. Something tells me you're not planning on beating the hell out of me," Jack said weakly.
"No, you aren't the one I'm considering doing that to," Doug said darkly.
The out-of-character comment earned him a quizzical glance from Pacey, but the younger Witter didn't say anything about it. Instead he said, "I'll be outside." Then he patted Jack's leg and left.
After Pacey was gone, Doug pulled a chair closer to Jack's bed. "It's good to see you again, Doug."
"You too. Though I wish it wasn't under such unfavorable circumstances." He smiled at Jack. "All right, can you tell me what happened?"
Haltingly, Jack related everything he could remember, from leaving the school to the last thing he remembered - the blow that had left him unconscious. To Doug's dismay, his memories were vague at best.
"So you never saw them?" the officer asked.
Jack shook his head slowly, and grimaced at the waves of pain and nausea that washed over him. "No, and they never spoke, not once."
"No idea if they were kids or adults?"
"I'd like to think that the adults in this town are above that sort of thing. But no, I have no idea."
"Know of anything who has something against you?"
Jack stared at him, then gave him a sardonic smile. "Think about who you're talking to, Doug, and then reconsider your question."
Doug looked chastised. "I'm sorry. I had, uh, forgotten."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You'd forgotten? Wish everyone else would."
"Yeah, I can imagine."
"How did I get here, to the hospital I mean?"
"Well, Pacey went by your place. When your landlord said you weren't there, and hadn't been since you left for work, he figured you were still at the school. So he went there, planning on dragging you out for a break, whether you liked the idea or not. He got there, saw your car, and parked near it. As he got out, he saw the damage, and then he found you."
Jack shook his head, and groaned, making a mental note not to do that again. "Wait a second. What damage?"
"Your car."
"My car? My car was fine."
Doug raised an eyebrow. "Then they must have stuck around after attacking you and done the same to your car."
"How bad?"
"Every pane of glass has been shattered, and the body has more dents than any wreck I've ever seen. And where there was actually an intact surface left, they spray painted a few choice epithets."
"Terrific," Jack muttered. "Oh, and by the way, I think I've figured out where Pacey gets his tactful manner."
Doug gave him a half-smile. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. But since you're in the mood to be brutally honest and blunt, tell me this. Do you think you're actually going to be able to catch whoever attacked me?"
Doug hesitated. "I don't know. There really isn't a lot to go on. The best I can hope for now is that someone slips up and starts bragging, and that it gets back to me. Or to Pacey." He ran a hand through his short hair. "There's one other possibility, but I'd rather have these guys get away than have it happen."
Jack stared at him. He couldn't imagine what Doug could be talking about. "Explain, please."
"They could come after you again," the sheriff said softly.
Jack stared at him. That thought definitely had not crossed his mind. "Do you - do you really think they will?"
"That depends. At this point, I don't know if this attack was a warning for you to get out of town, or if it was an attempt to kill you. I'm guessing they weren't trying to kill you, because if they were, quite frankly, you wouldn't be here now. You were unconscious, and if they wanted you dead, they'd have done it. But if it was just a warning, and you don't leave-"
"They might decide to give me another warning," Jack said, his voice barely a whisper. "Or to finish what they started."
His voice broke on the last word, and Doug saw, again, real fear in the younger man's eyes. He also noticed that Jack was shaking slightly. He moved from the chair to the edge of the bed and rested a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I won't let that happen, Jack." He tore a page out of the book he'd been making notes in, and scribbled something on it. "This is my cell phone number. If anything happens, call me right away. I always have it on."
"Will do, Doug," Jack mumbled. He looked up at Doug. "When can I get out of here?"
"Probably tomorrow, but only the doctor can say for sure. Technically, I wasn't supposed to come in and talk to you until he'd seen you but I didn't feel like waiting."
"Now I know where Pacey gets that, too."
Doug shook his head. "Stop comparing me to that kid. That's the last thing my reputation needs." He smiled at Jack, and was rewarded with a smile in return. "I'm going to fill out a report, and I'll see you tomorrow to have you sign it."
"Thanks, Doug. Bye."
"Bye."
Disclaimer: I don't own Dawson's Creek. I just play with them from time to time.
Synopsis: My version of how Jack and Doug got together.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Some violence, references to adult subject matter, homosexuality.
*********************************
Chapter 1: Unfavorable Circumstances
*********************************
Jack McPhee sighed as he left the school building. Finally! This was the fourth night in a row he'd left the school after eight o'clock, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. But he knew that wouldn't be the case. There was just still too much he needed to do. But that work could be done on his laptop at home, in comfortable warmth of his apartment.
Thinking of warmth made him shiver. As he turned the collar on his coat up, he was forced to admit just how much he hated the cold. What he wouldn't give for spring to come! Of course, there was no use in thinking about spring now, in the middle of November.
He reached his car and slipped the key into the lock. It wasn't as if he really thought anyone was going to break into his car here, but it was hard to break the habit he'd developed in New York. He let go of the key for a moment and leaned against the car. "Maybe I should just move in here," he muttered aloud. "These fourteen-hour days are-" He broke off, hearing a noise somewhere behind him.
Dropping his bag to the wet ground, he spun around. "Who's there?" His only answer was a strange feeling - anxiety? dread? - that washed over him. Jack turned back to his car, fumbling for the keys that were still in the door.
Just as he found them, he heard footsteps behind him. But before he could turn around, he felt something hit the back of his legs, making his knees buckle. He fell to the pavement, hitting his chin on the car door and landing on his side. He just had time to register the pain of his face scraping against the rough ground before the beating started.
The first kick connected with his stomach. Gasping, he doubled over in pain, only to arch back as another blow caught him in the back. He felt several more well aimed kicks, too numerous to even register where on his body he was being hit. In a last ditch effort to protect himself, he threw his arms around his head, trying to protect his head and face from their blows and the ground. The effort was to know avail. One more kick connected with Jack's already throbbing jaw. His head snapped back, cracking into the ground, and Jack didn't feel anything anymore.
*********************************
Pacey swore under his breath as he looked at the still form of his best friend in the hospital bed. His face was a massive bruise - where he wasn't scraped to hell, probably from connected with the surface of the parking lot. His arm had been set in a cast. His leg, thankfully not broken, though bruised to hell, is bandaged and suspended. Where the blanket rests, halfway up his chest, the bandages the doctors applied to help with his broken ribs are visible.
Stepping into the room, Pacey sees the stitches in his forehead, and remembers being told there are identical - if more numerous - ones on the back of his head, where it apparently hit the ground. "Damn," he muttered again.
"He'll be all right," a voice said gently behind him. Pacey turned to face his brother, Doug, who was the sheriff in Capeside.
"I know. He's been through worse."
Doug frowned. That was something he definitely hadn't heard about. But he doubted Pacey felt like talking about it. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "How are you holding up?"
Pacey shrugged. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you're the one who found him like that."
"So?"
"So, finding your best friend unconscious, beaten, in a dark parking lot isn't exactly your run of the mill day."
"I'll deal with it, Doug."
*********************************
Jack opened his eyes slowly and, as the room swam in front of him, immediately wished he hadn't. But he didn't close them. Blinking rapidly, he struggled to bring the room into focus. He wanted to know where he was.
Antiseptic smell. Steady, rhythmic beeping. Nearly silent, except for muffled voices outside the room. A hospital.
Why was he-? He moved his arm and groaned in pain. Suddenly, the memories of the attack out by his car came flooding back.
He felt his body tense and closed his eyes against the images that assaulted him. Suddenly, he was no longer in the hospital bed. He was in the school parking lot, being beaten all over again. He struggled against his attackers, trying desperately to shield himself from their blows. "No. No, please," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Just as suddenly, he heard voices and felt hands on him. But this touch was gentle, almost soothing. The voices he recognized, though he couldn't place them at first.
"Jack," someone said, sounding far away. "Come on, man, it's all right. You're safe."
Slowly, Jack opened his eyes again, and was able to put a face to the voice.
"Pacey?" he whispered.
"Yeah, its' me, man. And Doug's here too."
"Doug?"
"Yeah. My brother - Deputy Doug?"
"Sheriff," another voice corrected. The other man stepped forward so Jack could see him.
Pacey waved dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your newfound importance is not at issue here. We are trying to find out who used poor Jack as a punching bag."
"Yes, we are, and on that note, I think it would be better if I spoke to Jack alone?" Doug said. There was no annoyance in his voice - he knew his brother was worried about his friend. Doug glanced at Jack. "That okay with you, Jack?" There was definitely fear in the younger man's eyes.
"Uh, yeah. Something tells me you're not planning on beating the hell out of me," Jack said weakly.
"No, you aren't the one I'm considering doing that to," Doug said darkly.
The out-of-character comment earned him a quizzical glance from Pacey, but the younger Witter didn't say anything about it. Instead he said, "I'll be outside." Then he patted Jack's leg and left.
After Pacey was gone, Doug pulled a chair closer to Jack's bed. "It's good to see you again, Doug."
"You too. Though I wish it wasn't under such unfavorable circumstances." He smiled at Jack. "All right, can you tell me what happened?"
Haltingly, Jack related everything he could remember, from leaving the school to the last thing he remembered - the blow that had left him unconscious. To Doug's dismay, his memories were vague at best.
"So you never saw them?" the officer asked.
Jack shook his head slowly, and grimaced at the waves of pain and nausea that washed over him. "No, and they never spoke, not once."
"No idea if they were kids or adults?"
"I'd like to think that the adults in this town are above that sort of thing. But no, I have no idea."
"Know of anything who has something against you?"
Jack stared at him, then gave him a sardonic smile. "Think about who you're talking to, Doug, and then reconsider your question."
Doug looked chastised. "I'm sorry. I had, uh, forgotten."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You'd forgotten? Wish everyone else would."
"Yeah, I can imagine."
"How did I get here, to the hospital I mean?"
"Well, Pacey went by your place. When your landlord said you weren't there, and hadn't been since you left for work, he figured you were still at the school. So he went there, planning on dragging you out for a break, whether you liked the idea or not. He got there, saw your car, and parked near it. As he got out, he saw the damage, and then he found you."
Jack shook his head, and groaned, making a mental note not to do that again. "Wait a second. What damage?"
"Your car."
"My car? My car was fine."
Doug raised an eyebrow. "Then they must have stuck around after attacking you and done the same to your car."
"How bad?"
"Every pane of glass has been shattered, and the body has more dents than any wreck I've ever seen. And where there was actually an intact surface left, they spray painted a few choice epithets."
"Terrific," Jack muttered. "Oh, and by the way, I think I've figured out where Pacey gets his tactful manner."
Doug gave him a half-smile. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. But since you're in the mood to be brutally honest and blunt, tell me this. Do you think you're actually going to be able to catch whoever attacked me?"
Doug hesitated. "I don't know. There really isn't a lot to go on. The best I can hope for now is that someone slips up and starts bragging, and that it gets back to me. Or to Pacey." He ran a hand through his short hair. "There's one other possibility, but I'd rather have these guys get away than have it happen."
Jack stared at him. He couldn't imagine what Doug could be talking about. "Explain, please."
"They could come after you again," the sheriff said softly.
Jack stared at him. That thought definitely had not crossed his mind. "Do you - do you really think they will?"
"That depends. At this point, I don't know if this attack was a warning for you to get out of town, or if it was an attempt to kill you. I'm guessing they weren't trying to kill you, because if they were, quite frankly, you wouldn't be here now. You were unconscious, and if they wanted you dead, they'd have done it. But if it was just a warning, and you don't leave-"
"They might decide to give me another warning," Jack said, his voice barely a whisper. "Or to finish what they started."
His voice broke on the last word, and Doug saw, again, real fear in the younger man's eyes. He also noticed that Jack was shaking slightly. He moved from the chair to the edge of the bed and rested a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I won't let that happen, Jack." He tore a page out of the book he'd been making notes in, and scribbled something on it. "This is my cell phone number. If anything happens, call me right away. I always have it on."
"Will do, Doug," Jack mumbled. He looked up at Doug. "When can I get out of here?"
"Probably tomorrow, but only the doctor can say for sure. Technically, I wasn't supposed to come in and talk to you until he'd seen you but I didn't feel like waiting."
"Now I know where Pacey gets that, too."
Doug shook his head. "Stop comparing me to that kid. That's the last thing my reputation needs." He smiled at Jack, and was rewarded with a smile in return. "I'm going to fill out a report, and I'll see you tomorrow to have you sign it."
"Thanks, Doug. Bye."
"Bye."