Authors note: I know some of you will see this because I'm on your "author alerts", and you'll think to yourself, "what the hell, man? Where's my Batman update?" Well, it's coming. I had to get some stuff straightened out, but the next update from me will be Batman, and it'll be just this & Batman until Batman is done.

Authors note part 2/disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Disney does.

Ski Weekend

Corey Matthews hated flying. Even though the trip from his new cottage in Charleston, WV, was less than an hour flight to the Poconos, he still hated everything that taking a trip entailed. The waiting in security, the invasive screenings, the long wait amongst 80 other passengers that wanted to be there even less than him, and the fact that these days, he was traveling alone.

The divorce had been final only a matter of months, and the hopelessness that Corey had felt every day since then had not diminished at all. In fact, with every day of pop tarts and frozen pizza, Corey had to fight off the unrelenting feelings of loneliness and despair a little bit harder just to function.

His family had been great. His brother, even while dealing with a toddler and a new wife, dropped in on his brother religiously on thursdays to watch whatever Philadelphia team was in season. Shawn, his stalwart best friend, had spent several weeks with Corey immediately following the divorce, and had made sure Corey had gotten out periodically and not wallowed in his misery. His dad had kept on going. Alan Matthews was the most even-keeled man that Corey had ever known, and had kept Corey on something resembling a routine in those first weeks after Topanga had taken off.

And then there was Jack. Corey and Jack had not been particularly close before the divorce, but one not not long after, in a drunken fit of random cell phone dialing, Jack had picked up the phone. An hour later, Jack showed up on Corey's front step with a pizza and an open ear as Corey vented weeks of frustration and pain about his divorce and his job and everything in between. A bond grew between them after that, with Jack (and sometimes Rachel) bringing Corey food, or taking him out, and eventually even taking him in for entire weekends when his depression got really bad. And it was Jack who'd planned this trip. He'd promised a weekend of family, fun, and forgetting the deep pit he lived in. And so far, he'd fallen wildly short. More specifically, no one else had made it to the hotel yet. He'd heard from Eric. Angela needed some help with the baby, and so he'd head out first thing in the morning and still be able to spend the bulk of the weekend. Shawn, to his credit, was picking up what he called a "special surprise" for their trip. His dad, along with Mr. Feeny and Joshua, were en route. And Jack was nowhere to be found. Corey checked his watch, sighed, and signaled to the bartender for a fresh whiskey and sour. "She's cute," he thought, "I wonder what she's up to later." His inner monologue was interrupted by a familar voice behind him.

"Corey," Jack half-called from the entrance to the hotel bar. "What's going on?"

Corey turned, slid from his barstool and sauntered over to Jack. They embraced, one of those overly heterosexual hugs laden with back thumps and handshakes, and Jack walked over and occupied the seat next to Corey. He saw the pretty blonde set the rocks glass in front of Corey and flagged the bartender down for himself. He perused the logos on the bar's beer taps, pointed to a local microbrew, and set down his overnight bag next to his stool.

"Corey, how you doing, man? How was the flight up?"

"Short. Uneventful. Where the hell is everyone?"

Jack smirked. "They're all on the way. Everyone's excited to get here. Eric would already be here if it weren't for the baby getting so sick. And you know how much Eric loves shirking his responsibilities..."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just so excited to see everyone and it seems like they'll never get here."

Jack smiled. "I know man, I'm thrilled too. Hey, you wanna finish these drinks and take a look around? Check out the suites, see what we can get out of the mini bar? Run up Eric's tab?"

Corey grinned. "Absolutely."

With that, the two downed their libations, grabbed their jackets, and headed to the front desk to collect their keys.

The short elevator ride up to the top floor revealed the majestic evening view of the Pocono mountains. Corey stood silent, back against the elevator door, and looked out the large window as they slowly rose to their destination. He had to give Jack and Eric some credit. He needed this. Even though he'd moved to a college town in West Virginia, the pain and guilt of what had transpired between he and Topanga haunted him daily, and he welcomed the opportunity to get away from his day-to-day doldrum in his freshly furnished condo in Charleston. As the doors opened, Corey couldn't help but feel a small glimmer, the tiniest bit ever, of hope. Hope provided by his family and friends that one day he might get through all this. One day he might be ok. One day, he might be whole again.

Unpacking was exactly as much fun as every other time Corey had ever taken clothes of a suitcase in his life. Which is to say, it was the height of a boredom. But Jack had kept a steady stream of chatter going since they'd opened the door to their adjoining suites. Corey would never have admitted it in his current frame of mind, but he was pretty impressed by their accomodations. Two adjoining suites, each with a pair of bedrooms and a foldaway bed in a couch. Flat screen TV's each boasted over 100 channels, there was a fireplace, two minibars, and a jacuzzi outside on the balcony. Jack and Eric had gone all out on making sure Corey had a four-day weekend that would help him forget about what his life had become in West Virginia, and in New York before that.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Corey asked, over his shoulder.

"Man, we have four full days here. I think we should keep it low key tonight, drink these beers, maybe order some room service, and wait for everyone else to get here."

Corey grinned, the widest, most ear-to-ear grin he'd smiled in weeks. "That sounds like a plan. If I may offer but one alteration..."

"Why certainly, sir."

"Well, I'm stealing that robe I saw in the bathroom before I do anything. Hugh Hefner doesn't have nothin' on me."

Jack laughed. That was the most "Corey" he'd heard from Corey in a long time.

The next few hours were a blur. They'd no sooner cracked open their second round of Yuengling when Jack stepped out to take a phone call. Corey couldn't make out every word, but Jack sounded excited. He hung up, slid his phone back in his robe pocket and stepped hurriedly back into the room.

"Shawn's here!" Jack exclaimed, smile every bit as wide as Corey's from earlier. "I'm gonna go meet him in the lobby and help him get his stuff."

"Why don't I go, too?" Corey asked, not wanting to be useless.

"Nonsense. I'll go get him. Let him up. You stay there. Don't let that beer get warm."

"Warm beer means the communists win, right?"

"Absolutely." With that, Jack disappeared, leaving Corey to wonder what Shawn's "surpise" would be...