For a change, for a spark of something new and AWESOME we're (I'm) writing this chapter from Craig's point of view.

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Also, as deceiving as the first part is…this chapter is all about Emma. Cause I haven't written really good characterization of Emma for a while and I wanted to. I've missed her.

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Sorry this update took forever. Life has been kicking my butt. I'll try not to let it interfere this horribly ever again. Also, I have every intent to finish this story. (With whatever kind of end you can give a friendship that isn't really finishing…I don't know, we'll see.)

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I saw her leaning against the van in the parking lot. She looked nervous. She looked like she was two seconds from running away. "You've got nowhere to go."

"What?" she asked.

I looked down at my hands. I hadn't meant it to sound that way. "I just meant that, you know, I have the keys and—I don't know, Ellie. What the hell was that song about?"

"Sean."

"What?" I croaked leaning beside her.

"I wrote it sophomore year."

I nodded; so it was going to be like that. Okay. "Okay. I just wanted to congratulate you: it's good." There wasn't really anything else to be said on the matter. If she was just going to lie about it anyway.

"Okay. Thanks. Um…so…you think Emma's ready to head back?"

"Are you?"

"Well, yeah. I don't know...singing like that, in front of everyone…it was so unlike me."

"Never took you for much of a liar either."

"I—what?"

"You ran off that stage…like someone had stowed a bomb under the stool. Girls with nothing to hide don't do that."

"Craig—"

"It's not like—I don't want to talk about the song, either Elle. So…you didn't have to lie…that's all I'm saying."

"I wasn't—fine, Craig. It was about you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes. Now let's go get Em."

"That's it? No whys or how or—"

"I told you, Elle…I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine. I'll go find Emma."

Emma was saying her goodbyes I guess because just as Ellie turned she burst through the door with JT in hand, "You've got a great thing here, Jim. Keep in touch, okay? And maybe, after the baby's born…you'll come visit me and Jay?"

"Maybe, Em." He kissed her cheek and she headed over to us.

"So, hurricane CraigandEllie, ready to head back?"

"Cute, Em…" I mumbled unlocking the doors. We drove home in silence and when we got back Sean was sitting in the lobby staring at the doors.

"They wouldn't tell me what room you were in."

"What?"

"I gave them your name, and they were all "I'm sorry Sir but we can't give that information out." And I told them you were waiting for me but they said I should just call your cell phone. But I didn't have the number so…"

"You could have called me, Sean," Ellie pointed out.

"It just. I didn't really want to talk about my feelings."

"It's cool man, you got bags?" I asked as he stood up.

"Six hours ago, mortal enemies. Now their roomies?" Ellie cracked.

"Well, you know, that trusted the wrong people comment? I'm pretty sure he meant us," Emma stage whispered.

"Just you, really," I spit giving her a flash of my eyes.

"Oh, fuck you! She saved your life in LA."

"Right, turning me over so I didn't drown in my own vomit then walking out to continue the party in another room. How will I ever repay you, Em?"

Emma didn't say anything. She walked right past me and pressed the elevator button. I watched her stance, her defeated shoulders. Damn. I could be such an asshole. Ellie was staring at me coldly, "I'm sorry, Em," I said, just loud enough for her to hear me.

When she didn't react I said it again, louder. This time she responded by pressing the button repeatedly. "Emma…I'm sorry, okay?" I stepped towards her and put my hand on her shoulder but she jerked away like I had burned her. I hated watching her withdraw into herself. I had seen it before…too many times. I needed her to know I was there for her…like she was always there for me. Like I had always promised but never had to come through on. "Emma, please…just say something."

She turned to me and looked me square in the eye but said nothing. "Em, don't do this now…you're scaring me."

I watched as she placed her hand on her swollen belly looked to the elevator one last time then turned towards the stairwell. "Emma!" I shouted one last time before turning back to Ellie and Sean. "I am sorry, Ellie…I just…she was making a joke out of my pain."

"And you made a laughing stock out of hers? Are you even now, Craig? Will you sleep a little better now that you've been honest with her about how hurt you were?" Ellie never broke eyes contact and my knees felt weak all of a sudden. "I mean, you got the last laugh…isn't that what this was all about?"

The elevator dinged behind her and she brushed past me into it. Sean followed, "Come on, man. She's probably just being all quiet cause she knew it'd be what got to you the most."

"You don't understand, man. You don't. In L.A. she used to go on these silent binges, right. Where she wouldn't talk to anyone. Not me, not the maids. Not the doctors, the mailmen, anyone. And I'd hear her crying. Like, sniffling…but I'd never see her cry, you know. I'd just hear it. I'd just know she was. Then the next time I saw her she'd look fine…but she still wouldn't say anything. I don't. I used to worry that she wouldn't snap out of it one day. I couldn't bring her out of it. So, unless she decided to come back…I would—we would—lose her forever."

"I'm not sure if I should tell you this, because you'll probably use it against her. But. She wasn't not talking to anybody. I got a call a while back. A call I hung up on three times before I actually listened. It was Manny saying she was getting calls from Emma's number…as soon as she answered all she could hear was someone crying. She thought maybe it was me, trying to force her to deal with my pain the first time. But after the second call in a row she realized, she knew that cry…it was Emma. She asked me if I knew what was wrong and I told her the only things I could think of. I guess it worked, or whatever cause a few weeks later I got a call from Em saying thank you. But we never talked about it…not other than that, I mean."

The rest of the elevator ride was silent. Emma had been calling Manny? Not just calling her but crying to her? Did she talk to Manny when she called? Did she talk to her when she was ignoring the rest of us? It didn't even matter. She was willing to share her pain with her…willing to share her tears. Manny rated higher than most of the free world. Manny had comforted her when I couldn't. Was this my fault? Was this my tragic flaw? Another person I couldn't be there for when they needed me because I was too doped up? I tried knocking on Emma's door again later that night but I got no answer. Around one in the morning I leaned against the door and heard her crying, faintly. I knocked softly, making my presence known, and was quickly greeted by a fresh batch of silence. It was amazing, that she could turn it on and off.

Where had she learned that? No…I didn't really wonder that. I knew. I watched her learn. We all did. "Emma? I'm leaving now. I'm…I'm going back to my room. I know you can hear me. So, I'm just letting you know."

I padded quietly away from the door and waited until I heard the sobs pick back up before heading the rest of the way in. "Did she let you in?" Sean asked from where the cot was set up.

"No. I'm not. I'm not the type of person Emma Nelson lets in."

He cracked a dry laugh, "She's been Emma Hogart for a while now, Manning."

"Semantics…she'll always been Emma Nelson, angel of mercy, with the healing hands of God…too good to acknowledge her own pain."

"You ever think that's it's own kind of pain? Having to convince yourself you're flawed. You can't learn to trust men after a 38 year old man tries to rape you without paying a price. You can't find your father then immediately lose him without paying a price. You can't watch a man lose his life for loving you without paying a price. You can't forgive all those people, the parents that cheat and lie and leave, the boyfriends that do the same, the best friends that turn their backs on you when their pain becomes too much…the future husbands that offer you bracelets and cold names for sexual acts, without paying a price. But she has…so she asks herself everyday, what is her price? Has she paid it yet? Maybe she lives in fear, Craig. Or maybe she thinks that being stoic, angel of good, healing hands of God Emma Nelson is her price. Forced to keep her dark, morose pieces hidden from the world that finds itself brighter with her in it."

"What the hell, Sean? That's some deep scary shit. Where are you getting that?"

"You have to listen when she talks, man. Jay asked her to start over when they got back together and she said no. Because she needs him to see her flaws. I'm not talking that trivial crap, that everybody hurts bullshit. I'm talking about actually seeing her…and the only reason they're still together is because he does see her now. Like I couldn't. I couldn't pull her off the pedestal."

"You certainly seem to be glorifying her now," I threw out. But I wasn't sure I meant it as a jibe. Honestly, I was scared by his words. The Emma he was describing was severely more fucked up than I accounted for.

"My point is this: Manny lets Emma be weak. Manny lets Emma need her. She lets Emma have flaws when the rest of us aren't so sure. Bitch all you want about their friendship but Manny doesn't scoff at how Emma saved her life, she just knows she did. Manny doesn't ask her to be accountable for her flaws, she just lets her have them. She just listens to her best friend cry and tells her the pain will go away soon."

I looked at him blankly until he reached up and flipped off the lamp beside him. How did he know her like that? How could he pick out words and stories and just. Know. Without a doubt that he was right. And our Emma was that Emma. How could he suddenly make me grateful for the ex wife I generally wanted dead? Okay, it was official. I was back to hating Sean Cameron.