Wish You Were Here, a zoey 101 fanfic

Wish You Were Here

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Chase would have confessed his love already….two years, people! Two years!

A/N: This was a little plot bunny that nibbled at my keyboard until I told him to sit down while I wrote him….inspired by the song "Wish You Were Here" by Mark Wills.

Chase paced the length of his dorm, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He had told his roommates that he was packing, but in all reality, he'd finished packing a week ago. Tomorrow….tomorrow….the word engraved itself in Chase's mind, reminding him again and again that he was leaving everything he'd known for half his life. Yesterday had been graduation. Today had been the last day to say goodbye. Tomorrow, he was headed to the other side of the country for college, living with a sister of his father as he did so. Tomorrow is your last chance, Chase's subconscious poked at him. He wanted to tell it to go to hell, but felt that talking to himself while pacing back and forth didn't send out the greatest message about his mental health, and instead he sat down on his bed and held his head in his hands.

Come on, tell her, a voice the sounded suspiciously like Michael's entered his mind.

What's the point?

Ummm…let's see…you're in love with her?

But there's really no point. I'm still leaving tomorrow, and it won't matter if she knows or not.

Dude, what are you talking about? Of course it'll matter! She'll finally know that you've been madly in love with her since day one!

Besides, what if she doesn't love me back?

You'll never know unless you try, man.

Oh, go to hell.

Touchy, touchy! Fine!, the Michael voice trudged off, obviously offended. Chase flopped backwards onto his bed. Ugh. He couldn't believe he'd gotten this wrapped up in a girl. Before Zoey Brookes, there hadn't been anyone who could affect him so much. He'd barely even had a crush before that. And then he fell…and fell hard. He was still trying to work it out in his mind, and he'd been in love with her for years. Just the slightest touch of her hand on his arm or his shoulder made his heart race wildly. A friendly kiss on the cheek left him with a blush that could light up New York City and last for hours. He'd done so much crazy stuff to make her his. Was the Michael-voice right? What if this was the last time for him to stumble through trying to tell the girl of his dreams he was desperately in love with her? As it was, the thought of going to college on the other side of the country tore his heart into pieces. Zoey was staying California, to help take care of her father, who had recently become very ill, and to keep an eye on Dustin. What was he going to do? Nine and a half hours and counting until his flight took off.

Little did he know, Zoey had a similar dilemma, though instead of made-up voices, there were real ones, whose names just happened to be Lola and Quinn. Tomorrow, her subconscious screamed at her. He's leaving tomorrow. Zoey scowled mentally. Buzz off she told the internal subconscious. It went away for awhile, but it was replaced by the nagging of said roommates.

"Zoey, you have to tell him," Lola said, throwing a shirt into her duffel bag. " I mean, you've been in love with him for about three years now."

"It hasn't been that long," Zoey muttered, picking at a loose thread on her bedspread.

"Oh, come on. Do you remember the time Lola tried to date Chase?" Quinn piped up, picking up one of her jars and examining it with a smirk on her face. "After you got done bugging Nicole about it, you came over to my dorm and spent hours saying 'Can you imagine them together?' and 'I wonder what they're doing now'." Zoey turned a shade of bright red. She had been trying to repress that memory.

"We're also counting the years you were in denial of it," Lola said. "So, tell him."

"I agree. Chase is head over heels in love with you. Do you really think he'd reject you if you said you had the same feelings? You have t tell him. You've only got," Quinn looked at her watch. "Nine hours left"

"Nine hours? Only nine hours?" Zoey said, almost in tears. "I-I can't do it."

"Why not?" Lola asked, coming over to sit next to her, her packing forgotten for the moment. "Just go up to him, say 'I love you', pick him up off the floor after he faints, and live happily ever after."

"What if he's not that into me anymore, like he was in freshman year?" Zoey chewed on her bottom lip. Her roommates sighed and rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Fine, don't believe us," Lola said, gliding back over to her suitcase. "Live in misery for the rest of your life."

"That's a lovely thought, thank you, Lola," Zoey said sarcastically, scooting up to lean against the headboard and hug one of the many throw pillows that adorned the bed. She buried her face in the soft plush of the pillow. What was she going to do? If she told him, she was making herself far more vulnerable emotionally than she ever like to be, and could face possible rejection. But if she didn't….she may never see Chase again, and would always live with that regret. She sighed. Eight and a half hours and counting until his flight took off.

"Chase, dude, wake up! You slept through the alarm clock!" Michael forcefully knocked Chase's brain around his skull with a pillow. Chase groaned and rolled over.

"Do you have to be so violent so early in the morning?" he nearly shouted, sitting up and rubbing his face with his hand, trying to wake himself up. D-day, he thought grimly. As he looked out the window, all he could see was gray and rain. How ironic. That's just how I feel.

"Chase, get ready! You slept through the alarm!" Michael repeated. Chase looked at said alarm clock, only to see that it was six-thirty. Argh! His plane left in an hour! Chase made a strangled sound and hopped out of bed, nearly hitting his head on the top bunk as he did so. He dashed through a shower, hurriedly brushed his teeth, threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, stumbled around putting on his shoes, and finally, grabbed his luggage.

"Alright! I'm ready, let's go!" Michael nodded. He, being the only one with a car, was driving Chase, Logan, and the girls to the airport. Everyone wanted to see him off, and that thought made leaving even more painful to Chase, but he didn't really want to put a bigger damper on the day. They ran out to the car, dragging the sleepy girls behind them, into a rather large SUV that Michael had gotten for his birthday. In under five minutes, they were on their way.

Chase took a moment to catch his breath and look out of the window. The storm seemed to be growing, and now, not only was it raining, it was pouring, and thunder boomed ominously in the distance. He heard the thunder reverberate and then recede, followed by a quick streak of lightening. He counted. One, two, three. Another loud roll of thunder. The storm was close. He only hoped his plane wasn't delayed. He didn't want to make leaving any harder than it already was. He lay his forehead against the cool glass of the window and watched the summer storm roll in, the wind whipping the trees until the leaves were ripped from them violently, as if they'd been slapped by a giant hand. Thunderstorms were always very peaceful to Chase, despite the fact that they were so violent. The sheer power of nature amazed him, and after a storm, he always felt relaxed. Except this time, all he felt was a pool of dread in his stomach as he looked in the rearview mirror to look at the girl he was madly in love with, Zoey Brooks, reading a book in the backseat, rubbing her eyes every so often, from, Chase guessed, lack of sleep.

"And….we're here!" Michael made a text-book perfect parallel parking demonstration in front of the building. In a mad dash, the luggage was unloaded, and all six teenagers raced to the terminal. Chase checked his watch. Seven ten. Twenty minutes left.

"Well, good luck in Virginia, Chase," Logan said, and even he looked a little sad. Chase gave a half-smile.

"Thanks. Good luck in movie-producing," he said, for Logan was going to apprentice on his father's set this summer, learn the tricks of the trade, and all that. Logan nodded his head.

"If you ever need a random science experiment for class, just call me up. I'll ship it through priority mail," Quinn said, giving him a hug. Chase hugged back.

"Ummm…thanks, I think," he said, smiling. Lola was next.

"You take care of yourself out there, okay, Chase? I don't want to have to read in the paper you've been beaten up and left for dead somewhere," Lola smiled and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Chase laughed slightly.

"I'll try," he said. Since their failed dating attempt, Lola and Chase had been more like brother and sister than anything else. Michael clapped a hand on Chase's shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you, man," he said, patting him on the back. "You've been my roommate for years. I'll have a hard time trying to find a better one come September at college."

"I'll miss you too, Mike, I'll miss you too," Chase said, giving him a quick hug. And then, there was no one left to say goodbye to except Zoey. A lump suddenly formed in Chase's throat. It was game time. Would he tell her? Would he choke?

"I guess it's my turn, isn't it?" Zoey said, looking a little down herself. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there were deep bags under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Yeah, I guess it is," Chase rocked back and forth on his heels, and watched out of the corner of his eye as Lola whispered to the others, and they all stepped away, out of earshot.

"So…"

"Good luck in Virginia, Chase. I'm really going to miss you," Zoey's eyes started to tear up as she gave him a hug. "So…ummm…goodbye, I guess."

"I'll miss you too, Zoe," he said, closing his eyes to stop from crying. A moment later, the embrace was broken and Zoey, wiping her eyes, went to walk away to go sit down with their friends. She's walking away! You're blowing it, Matthews! Mayday! Mayday! Get her back here! Chase's mind was shouting at him, red lights flashed everywhere, and he realized it was now or never…but his mind preferred it be now.

"Zoey, wait," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back toward him. Damn. She was openly crying now, and it took everything Chase had not to wrap her in his arms and promise that he'd never leave. He cupped her cheek in his hand and wiped the tears away.

"Before I go," he began, taking a deep breath. "You have to know….that I love you." There was a startled look in Zoey's eyes as she stepped back out of his embrace. His heart sank. She didn't feel the same way. He was screwed.

"You love me?" she asked, a twinkle of something in her eye…could it be hope? "How long?"

"Since the day I met you," he said, shuffling his feet on the ground. He looked at his watch again. Seven twenty. Ten minutes left.

"Woah….," she said, fiddling with her hands. A moment of silence passed between them.

"I love you too," she said, looking up at him and smiling. Chase's mind literally stopped working for a moment. She loved him? That's impossible. Chase was the most unlucky guy in the world. No way he'd won the greatest lottery of his life. No way.

"Really?" his voice had dropped down to a whisper, in spite of himself. She nodded sheepishly, a crimson streak coloring her usually pale cheeks.

Without thinking, he grabbed her hand, pulled her over to him, and kissed her. For a moment, Chase could have sworn time stopped. God, please don't let this be a dream, he prayed; he didn't want this to end. The fact that he had to leave in a few minutes assaulted him again, and a tear slipped down his cheek. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her even closer to him possessively. He was the happiest he'd been in a long time, and he wasn't about to give it up.

"Final boarding call for flight 8876, to Reagan National Airport. Please proceed to the terminal and have your boarding pass and a valid form of identification ready," a woman's voice calmly relayed over the intercom. Chase and Zoey broke apart, and Chase rested his forehead on hers.

"How ironic is it that we tell each other we love each other, and then I have to leave?" Chase gave a little half smile. Zoey choked back a sob.

"You'd better before you miss your plane," she said, twisting part of his t-shirt between her fingers. Chase nodded slightly and kissed her again.

"I'll call you when I get there, okay?" he kissed her cheek and picked up his bag. "I love you." He smiled. He loved being able to say that out loud.

"I love you too," she said, waving. He grinned and walked off with a spring in his step towards the terminal. He boarded the plane, and patiently waited for it to take off.

Reaching in his bag, he pulled out a postcard he had bought a few days earlier, and planned on sending to his friends once he got to Virginia. On the front was a picture of the beach as sunset, with the waves rolling in and seagulls walking along the shoreline. In wavy lettering, the message read Heaven. Flipping down the small tray in front of him and taking out a pen, he started to write, though instead of writing to his friends, he decided to write to just Zoey instead.

Dear Zoey,

Wish you were here. You'd love it. The beach is a bit colder than the one in California, but it's less crowded and the water is clearer. The weather is great, the temperatures are pretty high, as they usually are in June in Virginia. My aunt and uncle say hello, by the way. I love it here, but I really wish I was back with you. You have no idea how much I miss you. I really wish I didn't have to leave right after that kiss. I'll still call you tonight, even if it's just to hear the sound of your voice. Are you sure you don't want to come out to Virginia to go to college? Kidding, really. I do miss you though, and I wish I were back in California with you. I love you.

Love,

Chase

Chase re-read the card to admire his handiwork. While he wasn't in Virginia yet, he'd been there before, and knew exactly what kind of weather there usually was, and he was sure if his aunt and uncle knew he was writing back to his girlfriend (he loved using that word. Brought a silly grin to his face every time.) they'd want to say hello. Leaning back to look out the window, he found that they'd taken off, and he stared out the window at the clouds, and found it fascinating to watch the storm from above it, rather than below. A bump jarred him out of his day dreaming.

"Folks, we're hitting some rough turbulation because of the storm, so please buckle up and stay in your seats. Nothing we can't handle," the pilot's voice came over the intercom. Chase leaned his head against the window and felt his mind slip away as the motion of the plane rocked him to sleep.

"I can't believe he's gone," Zoey said, flopping down on the bed. She looked at her clock. It had been about ten or eleven hours since his plane left, and he was the only thing on her mind since she saw it soar into the oncoming storm.

"Tell me about it," Lola said, flopping down into the beanbag chair. "And that kiss—so romantic!"

"I know!" Quinn squealed. "And I hate to say it, but we told you so."

"I know, I know," Zoey said. A smile had been plastered on her face all day, and even Quinn saying "I told you so" didn't affect her.

"So, when's he supposed to call, anyway?" Lola asked, stretching out her legs in front of her. She looked at her nails to admire how she'd been painting them for the past ten minutes.

"I'm not sure. He said he'd call tonight, so pretty soon, I'm guessing," Zoey said, fiddling again with the loose thread. Her mind was still a mixed up jumble of emotions from this morning, and the high that kissing him had brought her still hadn't dissipated. She retreated into her mind for a moment, daydreaming, leaning back against the headboard of the single bed. Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing.

"That must be Chase!" Lola said, throwing the cordless phone to Zoey. Zoey caught it and pressed the "talk" button, cutting the phone off mid-ring.

"Hello?" she said, anxiously awaiting for Chase's voice to come across the other line.

"Is this Zoey?" a female voice asked on the other end. She sounded like she was in tears.

"Yes," Zoey said. "Who is this?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. This is Chase's aunt," the female voice sniffed a bit and sighed. "Zoey, I have some bad news."

"What?" Zoey felt a block of ice-cold dread slide into the pit of her stomach. The woman let out a strangled sob before continuing.

"Chase's plane went down over Colorado," his aunt said. "They hit some bad turbulence and the engines failed."

"Well, is he okay?" Zoey's voice came out sounding higher and very different from her own.

"The ground crew searched the area of the crash," his aunt said. "There were no survivors found, and every body they did find was burned far beyond recognition. He's gone." Zoey dropped the phone, her mouth agape. No survivors found, the words echoed in her mind. He's gone. Tears welled up in her eyes, and from a far distance she heard Chase's aunt over the phone saying, "Hello? Zoey?" over and over again.

"Zoey, what's wrong?" Lola asked, looking at her friend with great concern. She furrowed her brow in concentration, as if trying to discern if she could tell anything by looking at Zoey.

Zoey clicked the "talk" button on the phone, cutting off Chase's aunt in mid-hello. She moved very slowly and deliberately, praying the somehow she'd wake up and all this would be a dream. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she turned back to her roommates, who were still staring at her, waiting for an answer.

"Zo, are you okay?" Quinn put a hand on Zoey's shoulder. Almost violently, Zoey snapped out of her grasp and ran out the door of the dorm, down the hall and outside, not even caring that the storm that had started this morning had grown worse, and it was not only raining now, but the winds were enough to lift someone Dustin's size clear off the ground.

She ran and ran, concentrating on the constricting feeling that was building in her lungs, and how the muscles in her legs were beginning to burn. If she thought about that, she wouldn't have to think about Chase—and the accident. Oh, God. Thinking about not thinking about him inevitably brought her back around to thinking about it, and all she could see in her minds eyes was wreckage. Wreckage of the plane, of people's lives—of her life. She walked to the basketball court, her clothes, hair and skin soaked through, but it oddly felt nice. Rainwater mixed with teary salt water as she sat down under one of the hoops and gazed outward into the horizon. The plane went down. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. The tears came down harder, and she buried her face in her hands.

The rain still wasn't letting up two hours later, as the clouds grew darker and the sun set behind them. Zoey took a look at her watch, which amazingly, had survived the downpour. Eight-thirty. She shivered. The tears had left an hour ago, and in it's wake left a feeling of despair and misery. Soaked from head to toe, she got up and walked back to her dorm, hoping she wouldn't get caught.

"Zoey, where have you been?" were the first words to come to Zoey as she entered the dorm. While school was out, there were a few days of leeway for last-minute packing, exam make-ups, that sort of thing. Zoey looked up to find a relieved Lola and Quinn looking at her. Seeing that she was soaked, Lola grabbed a large bath towel and wrapped it around Zoey's shoulders before leading her over to the couch, sitting her down, and taking the seat next to her.

"Who was that on the phone, Zo?" Lola asked gently. "Something they said made you run out of here. We just want to know what it is." Tears welled up in Zoey's eyes.

"He's gone," she whispered, saying it aloud for the first time. "He's gone."

"Who's gone?"

"Chase, he's gone,"

"Yes, he went to Virginia…we said goodbye to him at the airport this morning,"

"No, I mean he's gone. Forever,"

"He'll be back—"

"Lola! The plane went down over Colorado! There were no survivors found! That kind of gone!" Zoey shouted. A stricken look passed over Lola's face, as if someone had just slapped her.

"Oh, my," she said, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Oh, no." Zoey nodded weakly and went over to lay on her bed, hugging one of the fuzzy throw pillows to her chest, not caring that her sheets were getting soaked and she was getting colder by the minute. A few minutes later, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

A few days later found her at home for summer vacation. She was grateful for the chores and the help her father required; they kept her mind off of Chase.

"Zoey, you need to slow down, honey," her mother said, taking the tray of tea and a sandwich which Zoey was about to bring upstairs to her father, along with a magazine. In the morning alone, she had cleaned the kitchen, including the inside of the oven, microwave, dishwasher, and under the sink; done enough laundry so that her family would be rich in socks for a month at least, baked at least a dozen cookies and a pie, and vacuumed the entirety of the family's downstairs.

"Why? I'm fine. Just let me bring this up to Dad," she said, taking the tray back from her mother. "After that, I'm going to start on the garage. That hasn't been cleaned in years!" She began to walk out of the room. In all reality, she was dead on her feet; she hadn't slept since she'd been home, and it felt good to be needed.

"Sweetheart, your father's not going to eat all that," her mother remarked, coming to stand in front of her daughter. Zoey looked down at the plate of food, which not only included a sandwich, but about six of the cookies she had baked that morning, a slice of the pie, as well as a bowl of soup and a mug of tea. "You know his appetite lately." Zoey set the tray down and began to remove some of the items of food. Suddenly feeling exhausted, she slumped down into one of the chairs in front of the kitchen table and rested her head in her arms. Her mother sat down beside her.

"I know it hurts, Zoey," her mother stroked her hair consolingly, while Zoey cried for the first time in days. "But wearing yourself out isn't going to bring him back."

"I know," came her muffled voice. "But it keeps my mind off of it."

"You need time to grieve, you need sleep," Zoey adamantly shook her head.

"I can't sleep. Every time I do, the only thing I see is him…I can't take it anymore," she ran her fingers trough her hair and looked at her mother. She really was looking worse for wear, with large purple bags under her eyes and her face as pale as death.

"Well, you have to sleep sometime," her mother said, apparently giving up on the conversation. Zoey had inherited her father's stubbornness, and she knew that further discussion would be futile. Zoey stood up, wiped the tears from her eyes, put on a cheerful façade picked up the tray, and climbed the stairs to her father's room.

"Is Zoey going to be okay?" Dustin asked, coming in the room. His mother gave him a small smile.

"I hope so, kiddo, I hope so,"

Later that night, Zoey once again found herself downstairs with the T.V. on, and she had come to one large conclusion—at eleven o'clock, nothing good was on, and the horrible reception that was the result of the ongoing storm made it worse. She flicked on to the news, where the weather man was smiling brightly at the camera and pointing at the weather map.

"Yes sirree, this storm system's going to stick around a few more days, and bring lots of the wet stuff our way. Expect precipitation up to five inches between today and tomorrow. The roads are going to be slippery, so be careful. Back to you June," the man flashed a wide smile towards the camera, and in an instant, the camera flashed back to the main reporter, who began talking about the stock market. News coverage of the crash had been a few days ago, but Zoey hadn't bothered to watch. She knew exactly what it must have looked like.

Glancing over to the coffee table where she currently had her slipper-clad feet resting on was today's mail. Strange. Usually she was the first one to get the mail, trying to micromanage the household, and all. Today she must have missed it. Picking up the assortment of envelopes, she flipped through them out of boredom, but stopped when she picked up something addressed to her. It was a postcard, with a picture of the beach at sunset on the front and the word Heaven written in loopy writing. Flipping it over, she saw that it was from Chase. Her heart leaped, but saw that it was dated the day he left. The ground crew must have found it and put it in the mail. She settled down on the couch and began to read.

Dear Zoey,

Love,

Chase

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes again as she finished reading the postcard. How was she going to live without him in her life? It wasn't really something she had thought about; she had crammed her life so full of taking care of everyone else that there hadn't been any time to take care of herself. Her mother was right—she did need time to grieve. Placing the postcard on the coffee table, she flicked the T.V. to a sitcom and laid down on the couch, hugging one of the throw pillows that lay against one of the arms. She felt her eyelids droop and her exhausted body was about to drop dead from the lack of rest when she heard the doorbell ring.

Zoey sat up and stretched, and then looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the living room. Three-thirty in the morning. Who in the hell called on someone at three-thirty in the morning? She begrudgingly got up and padded towards the door, ready to chew out whatever traveling salesman or wanderer was at the door. However, when she opened to door, all thoughts of both homicide or chewing out left her mind.

"Hey, Zo," that all-too-familiar voice said, giving a little half smile and shivering from the rain that refused to stop pouring. Zoey shut her eyes. No. This isn't real. It's a figment of your imagination, from lack of sleep. Chase is dead. He's not coming back. Snap out of it!

"Zoey, are you okay?" the Chase-figment asked warily. He put a hand on her shoulder, and the dam broke. Zoey opened her eyes, and saw that he was here…he was alive…and he happened to be standing out in the rain getting soaking wet.

"Oh my God, Chase!" she whispered, flinging her arms around his neck and nearly crushing him with a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back, trying to stem the tears his return had caused.

"It's okay, I'm here now," he whispered in her ear. "I'm so sorry, Zo." Finally, she let go of him, and led him into the living room. Dozens of questions jumped to her mind, turning into a hundred in an instant. They sat down on the couch.

"How did you…but the crash…no survivors…." Zoey was rambling, but she couldn't decide on one question to ask.

"The guy sitting next to me managed to open the emergency exit, and we jumped out about twenty feet above the ground," he rubbed his leg. "A painful experience, let me tell you. Anyway, we ran like hell to get out of range before the plane exploded. After that, me and the guy went our separate ways. I hitchhiked back to California, called my aunt and uncle to let them know I was okay, mailed that postcard, and started for your house."

"I'm just so glad you're alive," she sniffled, and wrapped him in a hug again. "I haven't slept in three days." Chase cupped her cheek in his hands.

"I'm sorry for putting you through that, Zo," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "I should have called…or something."

"I don't care about that, I just care that you're here," she gave him a kiss and hugged him tight around the middle, breathing in the smell of his cologne mixed with the rainwater that had soaked into his t-shirt. The sitcom on T.V. was blaring away, with the canned laugh response reeling every few minutes, but Zoey hardly paid attention. All that she cared about was that her Chase was here, with her, where she could hug him, and kiss him, and be with him.

"Zo, I just want you to know, I'm not leaving," he whispered in her ear. "I'm staying right here in California with you, and going to college at Stamford." He kissed her hair, and her heart leapt. However, she was much too tired; her emotional energy had been zapped all within the last five minutes, and she fell asleep, happy for the first time in a very long time.