When All That's Left is You

by Marinara Lore

Alex is on a downward spiral. But when she sees the girl who had stolen her heart and had never given it back years ago in Orange County again, would the past turn the future into something to look forward to despite the inevitable?

11. Chapter 11

11

Falling Back In

(or Thirteen's Heart)

The bright ray of sunshine streaming through the blinds made Marissa scrunch her face and squint her eyes into narrow slits as she was woken up by a loud incessant ringing. It was making her head ache. She felt around for a pillow and attempted to drown the noise by burying her head beneath it, but it was in vain. She groaned and twisted under the covers. She brought her hand to her temple and rubbed it, her eyes squinted as she searched her alcohol-addled brain for memories of the night before. Where was she? The room didn't look like a hotel room, and it certainly wasn't her room. She squeezed her eyes shut again in an attempt to soothe the sensory overload. She stretched her hand out in search of the annoying little alarm clock that had woken her and ruined her dream. With her eyes still squeezed shut, she reached for the bedside table and blindly groped for the device. Instead of shutting the alarm off, however, all Marissa managed to do was knock the clock off the bedside table.

"Ow!" a voice whimpered from Marissa didn't know where.

Marissa heard a rustling of soft material from the floor beside the bed, and soon she saw a head of messed-up brown hair pop up from beside her. Finally realizing what just happened, she shot up from bed and threw the covers off of herself.

"Oh my God!" Marissa swung her legs down from the bed and lowered herself to the floor. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry!"

Thirteen's one eye was squeezed close as she rubbed her head where the hard object hit her. With one eye, she saw that the object that bounced off her head and onto the floor was her alarm clock.

Marissa picked up the still-ringing clock and turned the alarm off. Then she knelt in front of Thirteen, pushing her hand away from her head and replacing it with hers. She took a look at her head. It didn't look bad but Thirteen was obviously hurt. She rubbed the injured spot with her own hand. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"Sleeping," Thirteen muttered as she savored the feeling of being so close to Marissa again.

"On the floor?" Marissa stood up, also gently bringing Thirteen up with her as she did so. She sat down on the edge of the bed and made Thirteen do the same.

Bringing her hand up to the side of her head again, Thirteen winced, her eyes shut. When she opened them, she saw Marissa peering closely at her with both guilt and concern etched in her beautiful face. She felt her heart begin to pound.

"Why were you sleeping on the floor?" Marissa asked her softly as she went on about rubbing Thirteen's head with her own hand.

"I'm fine," Thirteen said, instead of answering the question. She gingerly and reluctantly pulled away from Marissa's hold.

"No, you're not." Marissa pulled her in again and went to examine the side Thirteen's temple once again. This time the spot had become reddish and a little swollen. "Oh my God, I am so sorry I did that…"

"It's nothing. I'm fine," Thirteen assured her.

"I'm gonna go get some ice." Marissa stood up but she was immediately stopped by Thirteen's hand pulling her back.

"I'm fine, Marissa. It's just a little bump," Thirteen insisted, tugging Marissa back to sit down on the bed.

"No…" Marissa pulled back and attempted to stand up again. "We need to put something on that to reduce the swelling and—"

"Marissa," Thirteen coaxed her gently. "Last time I checked, I'm the doctor here." She pulled Marissa back down again and made her sit down beside her. "I'm telling you, I'm fine."

"But—"

"No, I'm really fine, okay? I'll survive."

"Does it hurt?"

"I've handled much worse pain."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry. It's my fault. I forgot to turn the alarm off last night. I should be apologizing for waking you up."

"But I—"

"I know. It's okay, Marissa. Didn't I tell you I'm a toughie?"

Marissa smiled. "Why are you sleeping on the floor anyway?" she asked again.

"Uh…" Thirteen shrugged. "I was going to sleep on the couch but then I remembered that the heater in the living room is broken. It got damaged early this winter, and I almost ever only come home to sleep and don't usually have people over so I never actually took time to have it repaired."

Marissa looked around. "So this is your place?"

Thirteen nodded.

"That means this is your bed."

"Um… yes…"

"Then why didn't you just sleep in here?"

"Uh, well… I didn't want to… I wanted to… let you keep your space."

Marissa looked at her incredulously. "So you slept on the floor."

Thirteen shrugged.

Marissa crawled to the opposite side of the bed and sat there. She reached for Thirteen's arm and tugged at it.

"What?"

"Come here."

Thirteen let herself be dragged into her warm, comfortable bed.

"There's a reason why this is called a 'double bed'." Marissa laid down on her side and motioned for Thirteen to do the same. Thirteen obliged, lying down on her side, facing Marissa, more than a foot away from her. "See? It's big enough for the two of us."

Thirteen let out a chuckle.

They laid down in silence, small smiles playing on their lips as they watched each other.

Marissa winced when she felt a sudden pain in her head.

"Headache?"

"Yeah."

Thirteen immediately shot up and went to the kitchen where her medicine cabinet was. A few minutes later, she came back to the room with a bottle of ibuprofen on one hand and a glass of water on the other. She sat down on the edge of the bed and handed Marissa a pill. "Here."

Marissa gratefully accepted the pill, placing it in her mouth and downing it with a gulp of water. "Thank you, doctor."

Thirteen smiled. She took back the glass and set it down on the table. She turned back to Marissa and watched her settle back down on her bed.

"Do you need to leave?" Marissa asked.

Thirteen nodded. "Later. I'm on-call starting three."

"That's not until four hours later."

"No."

"You should go back to sleep," Marissa told Thirteen. "You look tired."

"Gee, thanks."

Marissa grinned. "That's not what I meant."

"Of course not."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll have you know that I don't only look and feel tired, but also my head feels like it's going to explode."

"That's what happens when you drink like an old misanthrope who has but one friend and a TV to keep him sane."

Marissa's face fell when she vaguely remembered the events of the night before, and why she was hung over in the first place.

"Hey," Thirteen asked Marissa when she said no more. "Is it hurting again?"

"Mm?" Marissa looked up. "Oh um, yeah… a little."

"Give it a little more time. The pill's going to work in a few."

Marissa nodded.

"Go back to sleep."

"I will if you will."

"I will even if you didn't tell me to," Thirteen replied, yawning as she sat up and then lowered herself back on her makeshift bed on the floor.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"What?" Thirteen asked halfway between sitting and lying.

Marissa crawled to the edge of the bed. "Didn't I just say you should take the bed?"

"I'm fine—"

Thirteen wasn't even able to finish her sentence because Marissa had already grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards the bed.

"It's a big bed." Marissa crawled back her side of the bed and motioned for Thirteen to lie on the other side. She then picked up a pillow and placed it on the middle of the bed and laid down on her side facing Thirteen. She patted the pillow. "We won't be invading each other's space this way, see?"

Thirteen opened her mouth to argue but she was stopped from doing so by Marissa pulling her down on the bed. Sighing in defeat, she laid down and mirrored Marissa's position, but tucking her hand underneath her cheek.

They laid in silence, their hands lying on front of both of them, palms down, their little fingers almost touching. While Marissa was feeling better by the second, a mixture of apprehension and contentment was what filled Thirteen's mind.

Thirteen's heartbeat sped up when Marissa's hand reached out to her face and slowly and a little bit hesitantly caress the side of her head where the clock hit her. Her eyes involuntarily shut close when the soft skin of Marissa's fingers made contact with that of her temple. Marissa slowly and delicately travelled the length of Thirteen's face, her fingers faintly tracing its outline once.

"Alex?"

Thirteen's eyes fluttered open at the soft musical voice that called out her name. "Mhmm?"

"Does your head still hurt?"

"Mm… Not anymore," she answered softly.

A small smile played on Marissa's lips as she removed her hand and placed it back down on the bed.

"How 'bout yours?"

Marissa shook her head slightly. "I feel better already."

Thirteen smiled.

Marissa yawned and crinkled her nose, and Thirteen swore she had never seen anything cuter.

"Sorry," Marissa murmured as she smiled sheepishly at Alex with heavy-lidded eyes. "I still feel a bit tired."

Thirteen smirked. "I bet you are. You drank about as much as House did, and let me tell you that that was quite an achievement, even for you. You really threw down. Even I was impressed."

Marissa grinned. "I'm not like the other girls."

Thirteen sighed. "No, you're not," she agreed softly.

Neither of the girls spoke again for a while, but then the silence was broken a few moments later when Marissa spoke.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted out.

Thirteen frowned a bit. "You're doing it again."

"What?" Marissa asked.

"Saying sorry when you didn't really do anything wrong," Thirteen replied. "I'm fine, okay? It's just a small bump. It's not going to—"

"No, Alex," Marissa interrupted. "I'm saying sorry for… for what I did," she said, not meeting Thirteen's eyes.

Thirteen's brows furrowed as she tried to follow.

"I was scared and overwhelmed and then there was Ryan and I was confused, and I just… I didn't know what to do, Alex," she said pleadingly.

Thirteen opened her mouth but closed it a moment later when she found she had nothing to say.

"Alex," Marissa pleaded as she watched Thirteen's emotions flash through her eyes in a matter of seconds. First she saw hurt, and then anger. Regret soon followed, but then, after that, Thirteen's eyes became blank and unreadable.

"Alex?" Marissa called softly as she gently placed her hand on Thirteen's forearm and gripped it. Thirteen's eyes were hollow and unfocused, and her lips were pursed tightly, as if she was fighting to keep words from coming out.

"Go back to sleep," Thirteen finally let out.

"But Alex—"

"Marissa, go back to sleep," Thirteen commanded her gently but firmly. She swallowed the lump in her throat and gave Marissa a small smile of reassurance. "We'll talk later, alright? When we're both well-rested, we'll… we'll talk about this."

Defeated, Marissa just nodded.

"Right now let's just sleep, okay?"

"Okay," Marissa replied in a small voice. "Wake me up before you leave?"

Thirteen nodded. "Go back to sleep," she said again.

"Mhmm," was Marissa's only response as she closed her eyes and let sleep take over her body.

Thirteen's crystal blue eyes roamed Marissa's face a few moments longer before she, too, surrendered to the exhaustion, and drifted off to a troubled dreamland.

---

A couple of hours had passed when Thirteen woke up. When she opened her eyes, the first thing that she noticed was that she and Marissa were still in the same position as before, except the pillow was on their feet and so there was nothing concrete separating them, and they were only about a few inches apart. Marissa's face was close to Thirteen's and her arms were folded in front of her, near Thirteen's chest. Their legs were caught in a messy tangle.

For a moment, Thirteen's let herself get lost in the intense haze that Marissa's closeness caused. Her eyes roamed Marissa's face, and she contented herself by listening to Marissa's soft and steady breathing. For about a whole three minutes, nothing was wrong and everything was okay.

Thirteen's happy time was interrupted, however, when Marissa stirred. Thirteen closed her eyes and froze. She felt Marissa reposition herself and press herself even closer to her body. Marissa buried her head into Thirteen's neck and settled back to sleep. When Thirteen felt that Marissa wasn't going to move anymore, she cracked an eye open to take a peek and see if the coast is clear. Marissa was now snuggled comfortably against her, her slightly pouted lips a mere couple of inches away from her chest and her hand slightly touching Thirteen's stomach.

I really ought to have the heater fixed real soon.

After staring at Marissa for some more moments, she took a deep breath as she finished mentally reciting "I need to get up" at least a dozen of times. Despite the overwhelming temptation to stay in bed all day, Thirteen was able to shake off the feeling long enough to muster the strength to roll off her comfortable bed and away from Marissa's warmth.

Her eye caught Marissa's figure again and she paused to watch her sleep peacefully like a baby. She slowly sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly and hesitantly reached out towards Marissa's hair. The tips of her fingers were only a bare inch close to Marissa's mane when she got back to her senses. She closed her hand into a fist and drew it back. Taking another deep breath, she finally averted her gaze and raked a hand through her own hair. What would she do once Marissa is awake and opens the subject up again (and she sure will, Alex thought somberly)? Should she do the usual dodging, which she had practically mastered over the years, or should she agree to talk about it?

She shook her head slightly and stood up. She's going to think about that later. Right now, she still had House to deal with.

---

House was busy reading a slightly tattered back-issue of Vanity Fair as hesat comfortably back on his swivel chair with his feet crossed on top of the table. If he had heard his office's door open and slammed back close, he didn't appear to take any notice of it.

There was silence in the room for about ten more seconds when House finally gave up and lowered the magazine. He frowned when he saw Thirteen standing in front of the table with her arms crossed on her chest.

"I take it things didn't work out all that well last night?" House inquired as he calmly stared back at Thirteen's eyes.

"Everything went utterly and perfectly well," Thirteen said.

"Oh—" House waved his hand. "Well… no need to thank me. It was my absolute pleasure."

"I'd tell you all about last night, but unfortunately, I've been told that there's been an accident at the subway and the ER needs extra hands," Thirteen said. "Cuddy sent me to get you, but I didn't realize I'd be interrupting your late-afternoon fashion one-oh-one session."

House casually went back to his magazine while Thirteen was talking, as if she wasn't still there. He stopped on a page that had something that "just" caught his eye. "Wow."

Thirteen arched an eyebrow. House flipped the magazine so that Thirteen could see what he was seeing. "Lucas'll flip if he sees this."

Thirteen took a brief glance at what seemed to be a fashion ad displaying a gorgeous woman wearing a distractingly short dress and sitting back in a lounge chair, her high-heels resting upon the back of a man with nothing but a leopard skin-print underwear on.

"I'm sure he will," she replied, just to humor House. As she did so, her eyes caught the page again and she noticed that the woman in the print ad looked rather familiar.

House smirked as he watched Thirteen's uncaring expression turned into one of recognition and surprise.

"Wait, is that—?" Thirteen questioned with awe in her voice. Marissa?

The Marissa on the print ad looked as if she was around her age when Thirteen left Newport. Her hair color was how it was when Thirteen knew her from Newport.

Thirteen squeezed her eyes shut briefly and shook her head after a while. "Stop deflecting."

House closed the magazine and set it down on the table. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to get you distracted there." He slowly brought his legs down and folded his hands on his lap. "What was that we were talking about again?"

"Accident," Thirteen said distractedly, still not completely out of her fashion model Marissa-induced daze.

"Oh, yeah. I already sent Kutner."

"Of course you did." Thirteen nodded, and then turned on her heel and walked to the door.

"I was right about you," came House's voice from behind Thirteen, stopping her from leaving.

"As you are with everything else, I'm sure you're convinced," Thirteen replied flatly.

"Your parents did have a divorce," House said.

Thirteen sighed. "You weren't right about one of them being alcoholic..." she said boredly, after some time.

"You don't have a brother who ran away from home," House interrupted. "You were the one who ran away from home."

"…Or about me killing a man just because he was asking too many questions."

"I was probably even right about the gay porn."

"I'm not Wiccan."

"No. You're a lesbian. At least I got the last two letters right."

"I'm bisexual," Thirteen said, crossing her arms on her chest again. "There's a difference. Not that it's any of your business."

"Nope, but it's fun making it my business."

Thirteen stepped forward towards House and bent over the table, her hands on over it to keep herself stable.

"You told her about it, didn't you?" she hissed, swiftly changing the subject.

"'It'?"

"My condition," said Thirteen. "Last night. While you were drinking. Did you tell her?"

House frowned. "What does it matter if I did?"

"It's my life," Thirteen said, her voice quiet but slightly shaking. "It's my body. It's my problem… She doesn't have to know."

"She obviously likes you a lot. I bet she'd want to make it her problem, too."

Thirteen took one more step towards House. "Did you, or did you not, tell her?" she asked, with emphasis to each word.

"With all she drank last night, I'd bet she wouldn't even remember I ever said a word about anything."

Her eyebrows knit together, Thirteen stared into House's bright blue eyes. After a few moments she backed up and turned to the door.

"I didn't tell her," House admitted when Thirteen was already about to open the door.

Thirteen stopped dead in her tracks and turned back after a while. She clenched her jaw, her eyes downcast, before muttering, "Last night, while she was drunk, she said something about a 'she' being 'not damaged'."

House smirked. Thirteen saw it when she briefly took a glimpse of him when he didn't respond soon enough.

"What?" Thirteen asked. "You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"Nope." House straightened up and walked past Thirteen and to the door. "But Cameron would."

Thirteen scowled. "Cameron?"

"Yeah. Just don't let Ms. Newport see you two getting too friendly again," House advised. "Just a little piece of friendly advice." He opened the door. "But just in case she does…" he added. "…I'll just be at one of the ICU rooms with a flat-screen cable TV. I got my pager with me, so tell her to give me a beep if she thinks she needs a drinking buddy."

---

The alarm clock rang for the second time that day at three in the afternoon. Marissa's eyes fluttered open, but then they involuntarily closed just as quickly when a ray of light danced through the blinds. Relatively sobered up but still feeling a little dizzy, she clenched them shut for some moments and gently and slowly opened them up again to let her eyes adjust to the brightness. What she saw, or rather didn't see, made her frown. She slowly sat up, eyes still squinted, and looked down at the empty space beside her. The slightly noticeable dent on the pillow and the crumpled sheets were the only signs that someone had been there. She turned the alarm off and pushed the covers off herself, surveying the room through squinted eyes.

"Alex?" she croaked, her eyes trained towards the open door of the spacious and rather neat bedroom. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Alex?"

Frowning, she turned to look at the digital clock on the bedside table and realization soon dawned on her. It was five minutes past 3 in the afternoon. Thirteen had probably gone to work.

Her eyes already having fully adjusted to the light, she noticed a small notepad that had a familiar handwriting scrawled rather hastily across it lying near the clock. She picked up the note and read the message.

Marissa,

I had to go to work and didn't have the heart to wake you. House keys are on the holder by the dresser, but make yourself at home and stay for as long as you like. Please try not to make me worry too much and leave still hung over. I don't want you getting run over or hitting a tree or anything.

Alex

P.S. Take an Advil if your head still hurts. It's on the table, by the way. I'm sure you're still way too hung over to notice… Kidding :-)

Marissa chuckled to herself and took her eyes away from the note to look for the pills. Sure enough, near the alarm clock that only a few hours earlier had been right on Thirteen's face was a small pill container and a bottle of water beside it. She smiled as she picked up the bottle of ibuprofen. She looked back at the paper in her other hand and went on about reading the note.

P.P.S. Call me if you need anything and when you get home. I'd want to know if you're okay. Don't forget.

After rereading the message twice more and focusing on the "try not to make me worry too much" and "I'd want to know if you're okay" bits, she just couldn't wipe the smile off her face. Maybe she was reading too much into it and it was all just wishful thinking, but Thirteen sure had sounded very concerned in the letter. Maybe Thirteen still had feelings for her after all. It was that or Thirteen was simply being a good friend, making sure she was okay and all. She wasn't a religious person, but she prayed that it was the former more than the latter. Anyway, still, one thing was for sure: Thirteen still cared. Whether it was the way she wanted her to, she didn't know yet. But hey, it was a start. With that last thought, she stood up and placed the Advil back down on the table since she didn't feel she needed it anymore. She was already feeling much better.

---

"Bed three, morphine, five hundred milliliters, IV, stat," Cameron told the nurse passing by amidst the hustle and bustle of the emergency room. She picked up a pair of forceps and some sutures as she went over to the patient sitting on the bed beside a gurney where Thirteen was also sewing up a man's wound on the head.

"Where's Kutner?" she asked Thirteen.

"Doing rounds," replied Thirteen as she worked to finish up the last stitch to cover up the big gash on her patient's head.

"He was supposed to be here half an hour ago," said Cameron. "This will have to be stitched up, Mr. Holmes, okay? It will take me about three or four stitches," she told her own patient, who only nodded. "So why are you here anyway? Not that I'm not thankful you're here, because I could really use all the help I can get right now… but I don't think I asked for you. I thought you were busy doing something else," Cameron said, now addressing Thirteen.

"Um, I kind of offered to do his ER work today," was all Thirteen offered as an explanation.

"Oh, so that's why he isn't here."

Thirteen snipped off the suture and laid the equipment back to the table beside her. "All done," she told her patient. "You'll be fine, but try and keep your self from falling asleep. You might've had a concussion." She called a nurse and gave her instructions regarding the patient she just stitched up.

"Well, you being here doesn't have anything to do with Marissa, does it?" Cameron asked casually.

Thirteen flinched and her colleague saw it.

"Don't worry, that was just a simple attempt at small talk. I'm not really expecting a real answer."

"How do you know it's got something to do with her?"

"House," Cameron replied, as if that explained it all. And to Thirteen, it actually did.

Thirteen let her shoulders relax a little and tried not to seem too nervous as she pulled off her gloves and dropped them into the trash bin. She turned around and ran a hand through her hair. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something, and I know you were busy, so here I am grabbing the opportunity to talk to you while we're both at work."

Cameron picked a clipboard off a table, slipped her glasses on, and began scribbling on the paper clipped on it. "Uh-huh?" she said distractedly. "Well… let's have it."

"Um, well… I actually don't really know how, or what, really, it is I'm going to ask, but…" She took a deep breath before going on. "It is about Marissa…"

"Okay."

"Last night, she was drunk, and she said something that I think is about me, and…" Thirteen explained. "…I'm just worried that House may have clued her in on my… um, illness… and I really would just prefer if she doesn't know."

Cameron finished writing and set the clipboard back on a table nearby. "And I can help you how?"

"Well, I asked House about it, and he said he didn't tell her," she told Cameron. "He also said I should ask you what Marissa meant when she said what she said."

"What did she say?" Cameron asked as she perched herself on top of her table and gave Thirteen her attention.

"Um… she said something about me—or I think it's about me—not being 'damaged'."

Cameron scowled for a little while, but realization fell upon her face only a several moments after.

"I have no idea how on earth this has anything to do with you, but House said you'd know."

Cameron sighed and shook her head.

"What?"

"House is…" began Cameron. "Okay. I, um, kind of… used to like him…" She paused. "Used to," she emphasized.

Thirteen arched a brow. "Really?"

"I know, I know…" sighed Cameron. "Anyway, he once told me that I only like him because he's 'damaged'," she explained, rolling her eyes slightly.

Thirteen scowled. "Okay…? But… why would House tell Marissa that I'm damaged?"

Cameron stood up and paced towards a newly arrived patient, but not before shrugging slightly. "Maybe because we were talking over drinks last night and let's just say that it doesn't really take much more for House's mind to go into Penthouse 4 fantasy overdrive."

"Oh." Thirteen nodded, finally understanding. "So he thought… you and I…?"

Cameron snorted. "'Thought'? More like hoped."

Thirteen let out a small chuckle, once again nonplussed, yet at the same time, amused, at House's strange but very typically male mentality.

"Did Marissa mention anything this morning that made you think she may know?" Cameron asked.

Thirteen shook her head. "Fortunately."

Cameron nodded. "Well, look, I don't know your friend, and really, neither do I know you, but… is it too crazy that I get this impression that there's something going on between the two of you?"

Thirteen looked away awkwardly, not wanting to discuss her Marissa issues with somebody she barely knows. She felt a hand touch her arm gently, making her look back at Cameron, who was peering at her concernedly.

"It's not bad to let people in, even just once in a while," Cameron told her gently. "She seems to really like you. She'd probably want to know."

"It's not necessary."

"No, but… she wouldn't want you to feel like you're alone in this. I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this and I don't even know your name."

Thirteen sighed looked at her feet. "I…" She licked her lips as she tried to form the words she wanted to say next. "Marissa's not… I don't want her to think that she feels… a certain way… about me, when really, she doesn't."

Cameron's features formed an expression of unmistakable concern as she examined Thirteen's stoic yet very vulnerable expression.

"I don't want to be pitied," Thirteen said decisively, her eyes briefly flicking to Cameron's kind eyes for a split second.

The blonde doctor opened her mouth momentarily. Instead of saying something though, she closed it again and simply nodded once. She let go of Thirteen's arm. "It looks like the worst is over," she said as her eyes roamed around the room. "Why don't you go on a break for a while? I think we can do without you in the meantime," she said kindly.

Thirteen caught her eyes and gave a small nod of appreciation before walking away.

---

The relative tidiness and the general lack of articles of clothing and beer bottles on the floor of the room and the entire house surprised, and actually somehow impressed Marissa. There was nothing familiar in the house, or at least in the rooms that she has already been in. The walls of house were white and were adorned by nothing other than bookshelves stocked with, you guessed it, books. Lots and lots of them. There were no other distinguishable items on the walls—no band posters or pinups of surfing events taped on the walls. Very unlike Alex, Marissa could not help but think as she examined various books—an assortment of medical books and of a few other fictional and nonfictional ones. The Human Anatomy and Physiology… she read the titles haphazardly in her head as she slowly trailed her index finger along the books' spines. Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine… The Picture of Dorian Gray… The Woman Who Walked into the Sea… Atlas Shrugged… God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater… Clinical Neurology…The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat… The Happy Prince and Other Tales… Rotten: No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs… Please Kill Me…Marissa smiled, impressed at the selection of titles that was somehow too Alex and not Alex at all, at the same time. She passed by the shelf that was placed against a wall in the living room and looked around once more.

Besides the nice big clock on the wall just beside the shelves, she found two framed pieces of documents standing on the small table. The first one was a very formal-looking certificate made of crisp off-white papyrus, with a simple blue circular logo with a gold torch in the center and the big letters UCLA beneath it, on its top left portion. Marissa picked up the frame and read the text, which was written in the familiar Old English font style.

University of California Los Angeles

David Geffen School of Medicine

"To all whom these Presents may come, Greetings… Blah, blah, blah…confers upon…" Marissa kept reading silently, already rather impressed.

Remy Alexandra H. Kelly

who has complied with all the requirements of the University and has successfully completed the studies prescribed for graduation in the School of Medicine the degree of

Doctor of Medicine

Marissa gently set the frame back down on the table and picked up the other framed certificate. It looked very similar to the first certificate, except with a different logo, a different institution and, to Marissa's surprise (or not-so-surprise, she realized later on), a different name.

University of California Los Angeles

Olive View Internal Medicine Residency Training Program

Confers upon

Remy Alexandra Hadley

who has successfully completed the training prescribed for recognition the medical specialty of

Doctor of Internal Medicine

Marissa frowned and replaced the frame back on the table, realizing she shouldn't have been that much surprised. Thirteen had already told her after all.

She carried on to the next room which, after she took a brief look around, she realized was the one that was hands down the most like the old Alex. It was a small room, rather messy and stacked with various music memorabilia and surf gear. The walls were covered with various old band posters—The Killers, The Walkmen, Modest Mouse, Rolling Stones, Death Cab for Cutie, Sex Pistols, Ramones, Rilo Kiley, The Postal Service, The Kills just to name a few—old posters of gigs at the Bait Shop, as well as pinups displaying surfers doing some really cool stunts which, with an odd sense of pride, Marissa noted she had once all seen her ex-girlfriend do. She went further into the room and looked around with a sense of awe and nostalgia running through her. Lying on the floor was a large stack of old vinyl records, beside it a tall CD rack stocked with dozens of rock albums, most of them she herself owned copies of as well. Hanging on the wall, side by side, were two guitars—one an old and rather worn-out acoustic guitar made of fine wood, and the other a shiny purple custom-made Les Paul. A surfboard stood against a small trophy cabinet on Marissa's left. She walked closer and ran her fingers against it, not being able to help but remember that one time she herself stood on that board with her arms held out to balance herself, supported, of course, by Alex who stood behind her holding her hands firmly but gently. She withdrew her hand and turned her attention to the cabinet. Inside it must have been at least ten trophies with small wooden surfer figurines on top of them and "Alex Kelly" printed on the golden plates nailed on their wooden bases. There were also several medals, and a couple of plaques saying "Battle of the Bands 2006 – 1st Place", and "Bachelor of Science in Human Biology".

Marissa mentally whistled. She had no idea Thirteen was quite the achiever. She didn't even know that they graduated from the same university system, except from different campuses.

Slowly and quietly, she stepped out of the room, and walked to the small and tidy kitchen. It was empty, save for the coffeemaker which still had a cup or two of the black substance in the pot. The kitchen almost looked like nobody had used it anytime in the recent past. Typical Alex, she mused. Understandable, since she's a busy person and probably never eats in, she added in her head. She walked further into the room, passing the small marble island, and was surprised that the table was actually not empty. It was set for one. On top of the placemat were two large plates covered in foil. She opened them and saw that one contained bacon and a sunny-side-up, and the other one had a small stack of chocolate chip pancakes laden with a generous amount of syrup in it. There was also a small bowl with strawberries and whipped cream. Beside it, on the mat, was a Post It that read: "I thought you'd probably want some breakfast. I placed a Mocha Valencia frap in the freezer to keep it chilled. I was going to make you a macchiato, but the store ran out of caramel sauce."

Wow. Marissa made a conscious effort of keeping herself from swooning at Thirteen's thoughtfulness. She walked over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, amidst about a dozen bottles and cans of Corona and Budweiser, stood a tall glass of blended coffee topped with whipped cream and hot fudge. Marissa took it and went back to sit down at the table. She picked up the fork that was lying beside the plate and took a bite of the pancake. Wow. That's not bad for someone who doesn't eat breakfast. She took the straw between her fingers and took a sip of the homemade Frappuccino, smiling as she placed the straw between her lips. Nope. Not bad at all.

---

Thirteen, Seth, Summer and Ryan all looked up when they heard the sound of the door closing and of a woman's sharp intake of breath following it.

"Oh my God," the beautiful blonde woman said, placing a hand over her mouth and another over her heart.

"Mom, hey—" Seth said as he immediately ushered towards Kirsten Cohen, who paid no attention to him and simply pushed him aside as she traveled the short way to the bed.

"Oh my God, sweetheart," Kirsten said as she bent over Sarah and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"Hello, grandma," Sarah said in a small voice.

Kirsten straightened up, not completely letting go of her granddaughter, and gave Seth a disapproving look. "I can't believe you, Seth Ezekiel!"

"Mom, I—"

"I just cannot believe you didn't call to tell me and your father!"

"Mom, calm down—"

"Your mother's right, Seth," an elderly man with dark ruffled hair said as he entered the room. "We're her grandparents. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Because we knew you'd be acting like this?" Seth half-asked.

"We had the right to know what's been going on with our granddaughter," another man said as he, too, entered the hospital room, followed by a beautiful tall redhead in her late forties and a handsome gray-haired man.

Both Thirteen and Ryan shrank to the wall, in an attempt to keep themselves as unnoticeable as possible, while Sandy Cohen planted a kiss on top of Sarah's head and then joined his wife.

"Daddy, we didn't want you to worry," Summer said as she went over to hug Neil Roberts.

"I'm her grandfather, honey, not to mention that I'm also a doctor," Neil said to his daughter as he hugged her back. "I would have thought you'd ask me to see my own granddaughter."

"You're a plastic surgeon, daddy," Summer said almost exasperatedly.

"Regardless," Neil said back.

"We didn't want you to worry," Summer said again.

"Well how is she doing?" the redhead asked Summer as she rubbed Neil's hand comfortingly.

"She's gotten better," Summer replied. "We always knew she'll be fine so we decided it would be better to wait till she was better before we told you."

"This hospital is one of the best in the world," Seth added. "And they've done a great job, didn't they? Sarah's all better now and she's actually healthy enough to be sent home very soon. Just ask Al—"

Thirteen glared at Seth, making him stop mid-word.

"—Dr. Hadley," Seth finished.

"Is she really?" Julie Cooper asked Thirteen as her eyes lay upon the doctor.

Julie Cooper does not recognize her, Thirteen noted with great relief. She cleared her throat and stood up straighter as she did her best to seem professional and looked at Julie in the eyes like she was none other than just one of the patient's relatives she deals with everyday.

"Uh, yes," she replied politely. "We have some of the best medical and nursing staff and facilities here. She was in good hands the entire time. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

"And is she really well enough to go back home soon, Doctor?" Kirsten asked Thirteen.

Neither does Kirsten, apparently. "Certainly," Thirteen assured the worried woman. "In fact, I was just going to tell Mr. and Mrs. Cohen that they can already bring their daughter home tomorrow."

Before she could launch into a more in-depth explanation of Sarah's illness, which she felt obligated (and safe, now) to do, Marissa walked into the room, not immediately registering the presence of the Cohens, her step-father, and her mother.

"Hey, Alex," she said cheerfully before she fully looked up at the scene before her and had the chance to stop herself.

Thirteen groaned silently. Great.

Confused as to who Marissa was talking to, both Sandy and Kirsten looked at Thirteen.

Thirteen shoved her hands into her pockets and nodded politely at Sandy and Kirsten, who were now both looking at her with recognition and something resembling awe.

"Hello, honey," Julie, the only one besides Neil who was still oblivious of Seth's and Marissa's ex-girlfriend's presence in the room, greeted her daughter enthusiastically, walking over to where Marissa was standing frozen by the door and giving her a brief hug. "I haven't seen you for so long."

"Hey, Mom," Marissa answered awkwardly.

"You look gorgeous, sweetheart. I like your bag. What is it?" Julie said as she pulled her daughter back to take a better look at her.

"Fendi," Marissa answered distractedly as her eyes flicked to Thirteen's.

"It's fabulous," Julie commented enthusiastically, not at all aware that she was the only person in the room—besides Neil, that is—whose attention was still on Marissa instead of on Thirteen.

Sandy leaned onto Kirsten, his eyes not leaving Thirteen. "Does the doctor look familiar to you?" Sandy questioned Kirsten discreetly.

"She kind of does," Kirsten replied with a slight frown.

Thirteen stood there awkwardly as the Cohens appeared to be trying to recall where they had seen her before.

"Isn't she—?" Sandy began to ask.

"My ex, yeah," Seth revealed before Sandy could even finish his sentence. "Ow!" He yelped in a small voice when Summer elbowed him on the ribs.

Thirteen sighed frustratedly in her head, intending to bend Seth's arm behind his back later for opening his huge mouth and making her have to go through this.

With wide eyes, Sandy shook his head disbelievingly, obviously amazed. Kirsten wore a similar expression.

The not-so-subtle revelation finally moved Julie's attention away from Marissa and her fabulous Fendi handbag.

"Alex?" Sandy uttered, still in shock.

"Seth's Alex?" Kirsten inquired.

"Marissa's Alex?" Julie further verified.

Thirteen clucked her tongue against her teeth as she shoved her hand into her pocket and raised her other hand in a small 'hi' gesture. If she had been in a more awkward situation in her life, she could not remember what that situation was.

Nobody said anything for a very long time. Until Julie Cooper did.

"You're—"

"A doctor, yes," Thirteen said.

"Wearing suspenders," Julie finished. Nearly everyone gave her a weird look.

Thirteen nodded once. "I am," she said slowly.

"Well that's very white-power-punk of you," Julie said.

"Mom!" Marissa said in a rather scolding tone.

"Doesn't really go right with the Loubutins, and I'm not a big Larry King fan either, but I actually think those look good on you," Julie told Thirteen.

"Um… thanks?" Thirteen thanked Julie for the sort-of compliment.

"You're Sarah's doctor?" Sandy said with just a slightly toned-down incredulity.

"Sorry," Kirsten said, gently elbowing Sandy. "We didn't mean to seem so surprised."

"It's okay," Thirteen assured the woman who had also once been disapproving of her. "Most people who knew me from back when I was younger tend to be. I'm really used to it now."

Kirsten nodded. "That color looks great on you, by the way," she added nicely, pertaining to Thirteen's hair color.

"Thanks." Thirteen smiled. "So, um… I think I need to go," she excused herself. "But very nice to see you again." She nodded politely at the Cohens, Neil, and Julie before quickly stepping out of the room, surprised that that didn't go too horribly, but also very much glad that it was over.

---

"Hey."

Thirteen drew a sharp intake of breath when she felt hot breath on her ear. Before she even turned to look, she already knew whom that sultry voice belonged to. "Jesus Christ, Marissa! I almost dropped a heart tissue specimen on the floor!"

"Oops, sorry," Marissa said with a wide smile, not really looking like she was sorry.

Thirteen wondered briefly if Marissa was there to bring up the subject of the unfinished conversation they had earlier that day. She shook the thought off, smiled and rolled her eyes. "You just never learn," she muttered as she turned back to the dish, carefully picked the specimen with pair of forceps and examined it closely. "What are you doing here anyway? This lab is off-limits to everybody who's not hospital personnel."

"What they don't know won't hurt them," Marissa replied with a smirk.

"Uh-huh?" Thirteen smirked as well. "How d'you find me?"

Marissa leaned against the table and watched Thirteen fuss around with all of sorts of laboratory stuff she had no idea what were or what were for. "I got bored and my mom wouldn't stop asking me about this guy she's been telling me to date for months, so I looked in every single one of the rooms I thought you might be in, how else do you think?"

"You were that bored? There's gotta be hundreds of rooms in this hospital."

"I can be pretty darn patient when I really want something," she said nonchalantly as she leaned nearer and examined the little pink object between Thirteen's forceps. "Oh my God. Is that really a piece of a person's heart?"

"Yep," Thirteen replied as she placed it back on the dish. "All nice and pink."

"That is so cool," Marissa said.

"Not so much if it's your heart that was torn off and placed in a Petri dish," Thirteen said as she placed the specimen on a slide and examined it under a microscope.

"So anyway, what I really came to see you for was to apologize for how my mom acted earlier."

"Nah, it's fine," Thirteen said without taking her eyes off the ocular of the microscope, internally relieved that Marissa didn't come to talk about what she thought she was going to talk about.

"She was being weird again," Marissa said, sighing. "No, actually, on second thought, she was just being herself."

"Hm," Thirteen smirked. "I noticed."

"But you know, I agree with what she said about you looking good in those suspenders," Marissa said.

"Uh-huh?"

"Yeah."

"So you admit you did take off after your mom somehow."

"Only in fashion tastes."

Thirteen took her eyes off the oculars and removed the slide. She placed it on a rack and began taking off her gloves. "You hungry?"

"Starving," Marissa replied, beaming.

Thirteen dropped her gloves into the trash. "Good."

---

"Oh, hey, look who's here." Kutner turned House's attention to the two women who just stepped out of the elevator together, on their way out to eat lunch. "Hi, ladies."

"Oh, hi, Lawrence," Marissa greeted Kutner warmly. "Hello, Dr. House."

"What?" He faked a high-pitched voice and shook the greeting off with a wave of his hand. "Always so formal. Just call me Greg," House said.

Marissa just smirked, knowing House doesn't really want her to.

"So where're you guys off to?" Kutner asked.

"Coffee," came Thirteen's short reply.

"Great! Bring me back a mocha frappuccino, will you?" House said immediately.

"Oo-kay, and feel free to ask me to bring you anything else," Thirteen replied stoically.

"Just some whipped cream, hot fudge and a cherry on top would be great," House said. "Oh, and rainbow sprinkles," he added.

Thirteen rolled her eyes while Marissa just chuckled softly. Just as they were about to leave, Foreman came jogging towards them. "Hey, House, we've got a new case."

"Oh please. It's coffee break time. Must you just ruin that?" House complained.

"Yes," Foreman said simply before he launched into the patient's profile. "Twenty-four-year-old female, low red cell count, a subcutaneous nodule, history of difficulty during intercourse, and itchy eyes."

"How old again?" Kutner asked.

"Twenty-four," Foreman replied.

"History of difficulty while having sex could mean vaginal dryness," House said. "Which is obviously not normal for her age."

"Itching of the eyes could mean infection…" Kutner said. "Which could be caused by dryness as well. Lack of tears."

House nodded and then looked at Thirteen. "That sound familiar to you?"

Thirteen sighed. "Sjögren's."

"Makes sense," Foreman conceded, nodding. "Sjögren's Syndrome is frequently associated with rheumatoid arthritis, which is evidenced by the nodule and anemia."

"We couldn't be sure, though, until we do a definitive test."

"Check her ANA levels," House told Foreman. "It'd be easier though if you just ask Thirteen here if she could just so very kindly grace the patient with the glorious diagnostic power of her lips. Also, that'd be a lot more fun."

Marissa wrinkled her eyebrows, Kutner smirked, and Thirteen only rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of…" Foreman turned to Thirteen. "How's Spencer, by the way?"

Thirteen just shrugged.

Foreman raised his brows before muttering sarcastically, "You guys must be getting along real well."

Marissa looked at Thirteen to see her reaction. She saw none.

"Hey," House elbowed Foreman. "Can you be a little less sensitive?" he whispered loudly, "discreetly" pointing at Marissa, who was just a few steps behind Thirteen, looking baffled.

"Oh." Foreman shot Thirteen an apologetic look before excusing himself, saying that he must go do the test already.

A few minutes later, Thirteen and Marissa were in the latter's car and on their way to what Thirteen said was the best coffee shop in Princeton.

"So Summer and Seth are gonna have this little party to celebrate Sarah's recovery," Marissa said casually once they were on the road. "You'll be there right?"

"Hm, well, they haven't said they wanted me to be there," Thirteen replied.

"Don't be silly. Of course they want you to be there. They just haven't gotten the chance to invite you yet."

"But won't that be like, you know, a family thing?" Thirteen tried oh-so-subtly to wheedle out of a night that was sure to be full of awkward small talk and Julie sizing her up.

"Alex, you were responsible for Sarah's recovery, so of course, more than anyone, you're going to have to be there. And anyway, Seth wants you to become their family doctor, so…"

"He said that?"

"Not yet… but I'm suggesting it and you and I both know he'll think it's a great idea," Marissa said cheekily.

Thirteen chuckled.

"And I'm pretty sure it's already come to his mind, too," Marissa added. "So, you are coming, right?"

Thirteen shrugged. "If you guys want me there, then… I guess so."

Marissa smiled and nodded, satisfied. "We absolutely do."

After a few seconds, she turned to Thirteen again. "You know, why don't you bring a friend? Bring Spencer," she suggested nonchalantly, or so she tried to make it sound.

Thirteen's brows furrowed. "Spencer?" She briefly took her eyes off the road to look at Marissa.

"Yeah."

"Well, she's…" Thirteen frowned. "…I don't know what she is. I don't know where she is."

It was Marissa's brows' turn to furrow. "She?" she asked. "Spencer is a girl?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing. Just… I thought it'd be cool to… hang out with your friends," Marissa made up.

Thirteen nodded slowly. "Well, I wouldn't really say that she's—"

"Do you like her?" Marissa blurted out suddenly, much to Thirteen's, and her own surprise.

"No," Thirteen said without hesitation. "I mean I do, but… not that kind of…" she trailed off.

"Okay…" Marissa said.

"What I had with her… It was never really that kind of thing."

Marissa studied Thirteen for a long while before she nodded and sat back on her seat quietly, satisfied.

---

"I still can't believe you made me file a leave to be on this trip to Newport," Thirteen told Seth from her seat beside his in his Rover as she brushed back a strand of her hair that got strayed due to the strong wind that came through the rolled-back windows.

"Oh, come on. House and your doctor friends can manage just fine. I mean, they will only be losing one of the best doctors in their team for three days. I don't think there's going to be that many people who're going to be critically sick or severely injured in that short a span of time," Seth answered back.

"Oh, believe me, there's going to be that many. You'll be surprised."

"Well, there's Dr. House and the rest of them to save the world. Sometimes a superhero needs to go on a vacation, too, you know."

Thirteen smiled.

"Just sit back and enjoy the fresh air, okay? We'll be back home in Newport in about fifteen minutes or so," Seth said with a smile.

Home. Thirteen thought bitterly at hearing Seth's enthusiastic voice. I don't have a home. I haven't really had one for most of life.

She turned her gaze towards the window where she can see the sparkling blue waters of the beach from afar. Instead of sulking and being all bitter, she focused her energy on thinking of better days and happy thoughts that included surfing and music.

As she tried to recall when the last time she had set her feet on a surfboard was, a pink Cadillac convertible came catching up on them. In the driver's seat was Summer and in the back seat were Marissa and Sarah giggling and seemingly teasing like schoolgirls. Thirteen felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips at the sight.

Through her Aviators she saw Sarah point towards her direction and Marissa turn her head to see. Marissa's big smile turned into a small, rather shy one once she saw that it was Thirteen Sarah was pointing at. The little girl waved her hand eagerly at Thirteen and the brunette waved back. Her gaze soon got pulled away from Sarah and onto Marissa as she couldn't help but observe how Marissa, with her hair tied back in a rather messed up ponytail due to the strong wind, and her skin aglow, still looked like the most beautiful girl she had ever seen in the twenty-eight years of her existence. Her honey-blond hair, seemingly sparkling as the sun shone on it, splayed all over her face and Thirteen had the overwhelming urge to brush the stray strands back if only Marissa was right next to her instead of in another speeding vehicle next to the one she was riding in.

Thirteen forced a smile, thinking of how bad things will probably be because of three days with Marissa Cooper in Newport Beach. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand hanging out with Marissa and her friends and pretending like she doesn't still feel awkward around them, or how much self-control she still had left. All she was sure of was that it was not going to be easy. Also, it was not helping that she was going to be a guest at Julie Cooper's house. She looked away from Marissa casually and sighed.

"So…" Seth's voice jolted her out of her thoughts. "What's been going on with you guys?" He asked as he shot her a brief look. "Girls," he corrected in a deadpan expression.

"What do you mean?" Thirteen asked back innocently.

"Well… you, and Marissa… You've been hanging out a lot these past few days."

"Yeah, so? We're friends."

"And you are two very eligible bachelorettes in their late twenties who could be doing more important things than staying in watching old horror movies on Friday nights."

"Yeah, like what?"

"Like, I dunno, finding a life partner? Settling down?"

"Seth, just because you married young doesn't mean everybody else has to do the same."

"Okay." Seth nodded. "So, well, you're going to start asking people out soon, aren't you? 'Cause, Alex, you know, you're not getting any younger."

Thirteen shot Seth an incredulous look. "Seth, I'm only twenty-eight."

"Exactly! You're at your prime, Alex! You should be dating people instead of watching old movies with your 'friends'—" he said, gesturing with air quotes, for which Thirteen quickly slapped his hands to make him grab the wheel back "—almost every night."

"What's so wrong with me hanging out with Marissa?" A lot. A gargantuan lot, she answered herself in her head.

"Nothing at all. It's just, you two could be doing so much better, more exciting things together. Or with other people."

Thirteen's eyebrows shot up.

"I swear that meant much less dirty than I accidentally made it sound."

Thirteen punched Seth's arm.

"No, no, what I'm trying to say is, you should ask Marissa out again. You know she wouldn't say no."

Thirteen looked at Seth and then clenched her jaw and looked away. "No, I don't."

Seth sighed. "Okay, I know she wouldn't say no."

Thirteen shook her head. "Maybe, but that's hardly the point."

"Well, could you tell me what the point is?"

"Seth… Marissa and I are… done. We've already gone through the good, the bad and the ugly, and honestly, I'm not sure I want to risk going through the same again… Besides, I'm over her."

Seth looked at her. "Are you?" He would have held Thirteen's gaze for much longer, but he knew it would be a little less than safe if he had done so for a second more.

Thirteen moistened her lips and her gaze dropped to her lap. "Of course I am."

"Huh," Seth scoffed. "Only an eight-year-old would have believed that. Bet you didn't even believe yourself."

Thirteen pushed her tongue against her mouth. Seth was dead on.

---

"What?" Thirteen stopped and looked down at her front. "What are you smiling at?"

Marissa shook her head, grinning. She and Thirteen were walking to the beach after a nice dinner at the Cooper-Roberts mansion. Catered, of course.

"What?" Thirteen asked again, confused.

"Nothing," Marissa said with a smile.

"'Nothing'?" Thirteen repeated. You're smiling at 'nothing'?"

"No, it's just… It's the first time in years that I've seen you wear something that the old Alex would actually wear, except for that one time we went to that diner."

They resumed walking as Thirteen listened to Marissa explain.

"I mean, all I've seen you wear in the last couple of weeks are your lab coat, suspenders, and really nice professional-looking clothes," she added when Thirteen urged her to explain with an arched eyebrow. "It's nice to see you again in an old, kind of vintage t-shirt." She gestured towards Thirteen's shirt—the old CBGB t-shirt she had lent Marissa years ago and Marissa just "coincidentally" discovered she still had in her closet a little while ago, back at her place.

"Okay, that's it. I'm throwing the suspenders out."

"No, no, I like the suspenders. I think the suspenders are hot."

Thirteen arched an eyebrow again, and there was a smile on her face.

"Really, I do! I love the suspenders. It's just, you know, this looks more like my Alex right here in her little CBGB shirt and Chucks."

She's doing it again. Thirteen ignored the fluttering in her stomach and pretended that Marissa didn't just say she was hers. "Yeah?"

Marissa smiled. "Yeah."

They kept walking by the pier for a little while longer until Thirteen felt a light tug on her wrist.

"Do you wanna go sit on the beach?" Marissa asked.

You could ask me to bury myself on the beach and I'd probably do it, Thirteen thought with a mental eye nodded. "Yeah, sure."

They trudged their way towards the shore and sat down on the sand.

"This is nice," Marissa whispered as she watched the orange waves rolling in the distance.

"Mhmm," Thirteen agreed. "I haven't done this for so long."

"Me neither," Marissa said quietly. "I've missed this."

There was silence for a quite some time and both Thirteen and Marissa simply sat watching the sun gradually disappear in the horizon. Thirteen was too engrossed in her thoughts (or too busy pushing them away, for that matter), which mostly consisted of a certain person, that she didn't notice Marissa shift little by little until they were already just a fraction of an inch away from each other. She automatically stiffened when she felt the very subject of the thoughts that she was trying so hard to shake off lean against her side and drop her head on her shoulder.

Barely paying attention to anything else other than Thirteen, Marissa felt her tense up against her touch, but appeared not to make notice of it. She simply closed her eyes and lost herself in the two feelings she enjoyed most in the world—the feeling of the ocean breeze blowing against her face, and that of being close to Thirteen.

A small smile formed in her lips when, after some more time, she felt the woman beside her finally relax and ease against her.

Marissa slowly opened her eyes and sat back up after a long while. Thirteen sighed softly, silently wishing Marissa didn't. In the meantime, she contented herself with the thought and the feeling of the skin of Marissa's arm still touching her own arm. She turned her head slightly to the side and watched as the soft orange light bathed Marissa, making her glow and look almost too beautiful to be real.

"Isn't that just beautiful?" Marissa said softly, marvelling at the picturesque scene before her.

Unable to take her eyes off Marissa, Thirteen nodded ever so slightly. "Yeah…" she agreed in an equally soft voice. "Beautiful," she whispered.

Marissa, finally feeling eyes on her and hearing what sounded like passion in Thirteen's voice, turned her head and met the blue eyes that easily rivaled the beauty of the sea. Thirteen's eyes dropped Marissa's own intense gaze, only to fixate on her lips.

It was like slow motion for Thirteen as Marissa's face inched nearer and nearer to hers. Thirteen neither moved away nor moved to meet Marissa halfway. It was like her all her senses were dulled and heightened at the same time. She could smell Marissa's light fruity scent… could hear the blood pounding in her ears… could feel Marissa's breath against her face, and the butterflies flittering about inside her stomach. At the same time, she had no idea what was happening; everything seemed to fade and she had no idea how long they've already been sitting there.

With lips apart and quivering, Thirteen kept her eyes on Marissa's lips as they hovered in front of her own. Both of them were breathing in short, ragged breaths as they seemed to kiss without their lips actually touching.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity and a century more, and with all the yearning she felt in her heart, Thirteen swooped in and captured Marissa's lips into the most painfully slow, yet most mind-blowing kiss she could remember ever having.

At first her movements were hesitant, but as Marissa's tongue plunged into her mouth and her hands got lost into her hair, even what little resolve and reason she had left a few minutes ago was thrown out the window as she started eagerly, almost roughly, kissing back. She breathed in as her hands, which were on Marissa's waist, slowly traveled their way up to cup her face.

The kiss—the first real one she's had for years now, she realized—must have gone on for quite some time, because when she finally pulled back, the surroundings were darker than she remembered. It was either that or her brain was shaken strong enough to affect her vision. The lack of oxygen also must have contributed to the lightheadedness she felt as she gently pushed Marissa away.

Thirteen closed her eyes and drew in a mouthful of air. The oxygen that rushed into her lungs seemed to have worked in putting her brain back to work because soon the euphoria that she felt only a few seconds ago crept away into hiding and panic began to win over her emotions. She opened eyes and stared back into the green eyes that had haunted her dreams for countless nights.

Marissa frowned when she saw Thirteen's wide eyes and conflicted expression. It was easy for her to see that Thirteen regretted what just happened.

"I'm sorry…" Thirteen said in a hurried whisper. "I didn't…" She trailed off. It was a mistake… a lapse in judgment, she wanted to say but did not seem to have the strength or the heart to. Marissa looked like she had no idea why Thirteen was apologizing for the kiss they were both aware had been coming for a while now.

"Please don't—" Marissa began as she herself started to panic.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen repeated, cutting Marissa off.

"Alex, don't go—" Marissa began, but her protests fell onto deaf ears because Thirteen had already gotten up and walked away.

---

Summer looked up when she heard the door of the adjacent bedroom close, signaling her stepsister's return from God-knows-where at a quarter past ten. She smoothed out Sarah's blanket before standing up and tiptoeing to Marissa's room.

"Coop!" Summer said in a hushed voice. "What are you doing?"

"What?"

"Sarah's sleeping."

"Oh… Sorry." Marissa opened her closet and grabbed a nightgown.

"Where've you been anyway?" Summer asked as she flopped onto the bed.

"Around," Marissa answered curtly.

Summer raised an eyebrow and watched as Marissa wordlessly got into the bathroom and then get out and go in and then out again, grabbing things she needed as she went.

"Coop? Did something happen?" She asked when Marissa finally sat down on the bed next to her, looking distant.

"No," Marissa replied.

Summer nodded, and then silence followed.

"Sum?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you…" Marissa played with a lose thread on the hem of her pillowcase as she went on. "Have you ever… lost something that you were sure you're going to forget… and get over losing… but then you realize, you were wrong… 'cause when you saw… it… again, you… you remember how it felt like when you had it… how you always liked having it…"

Summer looked at her friend and shrugged. "Sure."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, I was looking for my old Chanel bag in my closet earlier, and guess what I found. Princess Sparkle."

Marissa looked at her friend and couldn't help but smirk. "That little plastic horse you had when we were kids?"

"Yeah. Remember when I moved to Providence I left Princess Sparkle here? And then actually forgot all about it since then, and it never crossed my mind again? And then now I found it and realized just how much I missed it."

A faraway look crossed Marissa's face as she nodded slightly. "Yeah. How strange is that."

"I know, right?"

Neither girl said something again for some time.

Summer was the first to break the silence this time, when she realized that Marissa's not going to open up anytime soon.

Thirteen slowly and quietly made her way up the stairs and to the guest room, careful not to wake anybody up.

"It's Alex, isn't it?" Summer's faint voice came from the room with the door that was open just a crack, making Thirteen stop almost involuntarily in her tracks.

"No," Marissa said too quickly.

Summer raised a brow knowingly.

"Yes," Marissa sighed. "I just… She makes me feel… something."

"I thought you were over her. Like, eleven years ago."

"I know, that's what I thought, too, but... I dunno. It's just... when I saw her... " Marissa shrugged her shoulders slightly to indicate her loss for an explanation. "It's like..." she managed to go on. "It's like... charged... or something."

"Oh my God," Summer gasped. "You're in love with her."

"No!" Marissa said impulsively, without really thinking about it.

Thirteen felt a twinge in her heart at what she just heard.

"But you like her. I know you do. I can hear it in your voice."

"Yeah, I mean... I guess the infatuation will always be there, but…" She fell on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Thirteen clenched her jaw, then she resumed on her journey to the guest room.

"I mean…" Marissa continued. "…I do like her, but I … I don't know… I just… I wanna see her all the time, Sum… and I can't stop thinking about her," she said, almost tiredly.

"What, do you, like, have a crush on her? 'Cause that is so high school, Coop."

"No… I don't know. It feels the same… when I first started hanging out with her… except it's stronger."

"Is that a bad thing?" Summer asked.

"I don't know," Marissa sighed. After some time, she suddenly sat up on the bed and looked at Summer. "Do you think this is… Do you think I'm… in love… with her?"

"What does it matter what I think? You're the one who ought to know how you feel."

"I know, but I need to see this from an objective point of view, so just answer me please. Do you think I am?"

Summer sighed. "Yes."

Marissa looked away. "Well do you think that she's… in love with me?"

Summer tilted her head and gave Marissa a look. "Head-over-heels."

"How do you know for sure?"

"I don't. But it's so obvious, Coop. I mean even Ryan sees it."

A faraway look once again crossed Marissa's face. Could it be possible that I've been in love with her all along? That I always have, even from the first time we were together?

Summer placed her hand on top of Marissa's. "Coop? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking… that maybe… it's time for Alex and I to talk about this."

---

"Hey," Seth greeted his friend cheerily as he handed Sarah a bagel.

"Where's Alex?" was Marissa's urgent question as soon as she landed on the foot of the stairs. "She's not in the guest room."

"And good morning to you, too," Seth said back.

"Where is she, Seth?"

"She went back to New Jersey this morning."

"New Jersey," Marissa repeated.

"Yeah, she said there was an emergency at the hospital and they needed more doctors." Seth frowned. "Why, didn't she tell you she was leaving?"

"Oh… oh, no, yeah, she did. Last night. I just…" She ran a hand through her hair distractedly. "…Must have forgotten."

Seth simply nodded and reached over the table to get the jar of cream cheese. "More cream cheese, baby?"

"Alex said to greet you hello when you wake up," Sarah told Marissa, ignoring her dad and looking up at her godmother's distraught form.

Marissa forced a smile and went over to brush Sarah's hair before turning to run back up the stairs.

---

"I can't believe she left without saying goodbye," Marissa said.

"Okay, that's like, the eight-hundredth time you've said that in the last hour, Coop."

Marissa ignored Summer and continued pacing back and forth in her room.

"Coop, will you sit down and tell me what happened, please? I'm starting to get dizzy just watching you."

Marissa trudged towards the bed and slumped on its edge.

"Okay, now tell me what happened."

"We…" Marissa's gaze fell on the sheets, and she took a deep breath before finishing her sentence. "…kissed."

Summer arched an eyebrow. "Well, it's about time."

"Summer, no, you're not getting it. Alex and I kissed."

"So? You've done it before, and with each other, too. You're obviously crazy about each other, and you're not in kindergarten, so overall I believe it's a perfectly normal thing to do."

"Well she didn't seem to think so. She said sorry and clearly regretted it."

"She did?" Summer said, empathically now.

Marissa nodded.

Summer placed a hand on her arm and rubbed it comfortingly.

"When are we going back to Jersey?" Marissa said after a while.

Summer shrugged. "Whenever we feel like it, really."

"Good," Marissa said as she straightened up, determination shining in her eyes. "Because I most certainly feel like it now." She turned to Summer. "I'm driving us back tonight."

---

House's eyes were shut close and his face was contorted in intense concentration as he plucked an imaginary string in his imaginary guitar, in sync with the guitar licks of "Free Bird" which was blaring off of the phonograph.

He lifted his cane, as if to lift the neck of the "guitar" while making it wail. He was far too concentrated to notice somebody enter the conference room and watch him amusedly as he pranced around as much as his bad leg would allow him to.

He opened his eyes for just a millisecond as he changed his stance in preparation for "playing" a particularly difficult riff when he caught sight of Marissa Cooper standing in front of him with a designer handbag underneath her arm and a smirk on her face.

The mood already broken, he sighed and dropped his cane on the ground so as to walk with its help as he hobbled toward the phonograph to turn it off.

After he did, he turned to face Marissa. "Hello, Ms. Buzzkill. What can I do for you today?"

"I'm looking for Alex," Marissa replied.

He looked at Marissa. "Do you see her here?"

"No."

"And that's not enough reason for you to think she isn't actually here?"

Instead of replying, Marissa went further into the room, pulled out a chair and sat on it with her legs crossed. House looked at her.

"I'll wait for her here. But please, don't stop on my account. I'll just sit here and wait while you air-guitar to Lynyrd Skynyrd. Just ignore me. Promise I'll be real quiet. It would be like I'm not here at all."

House raised his brows and made no move to go back to his air guitar-ing. He pulled a chair and sat across Marissa, who felt a bit creeped out but acted like she didn't. She stared back, seemingly unfazed.

"Do you like classic rock music?" asked House.

"Yes. Alex has a pager, doesn't she?" Marissa asked back.

"Yes," replied House, then his expression turned contemplative. "That's strange. You don't seem like the type."

"Can I have her number, please?" Marissa ignored House's comment.

"Maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Thirteen didn't seem like the type either," House mused, in turn ignoring Marissa's question. "Do you know she got me this Lynyrd Skynyrd vintage LP?"

"She did?" Marissa asked, temporarily forgetting what she was there to do. She was curious, not of why Thirteen got House the gift of a classic rock record, but of why she gave House a gift, period.

"Yeah. Cool, huh? She got it for me on Christmas."

"Really? Why?"

"Why not?"

"She doesn't seem to like you very much."

"Didn't I say it was Christmas?" House said, as if that should explain it.

"She doesn't seem to like you very much," Marissa only repeated.

"She doesn't," House agreed. "Nobody does. Which is perfectly fine. I don't like anybody very much either."

Marissa mentally sighed, figuring she should leave the subject alone and go on about what she was going to say before House diverted her attention to his random musings. "Can I have her pager number?"

"I believe she prefers to be contacted through her phone."

"She's not answering. She must've turned it off or something," Marissa reasoned. "Can you just give it to me, please?"

"Can't," House said as he pulled out his Vicodin out of his pocket, and took a pill and swallowed it. "Hospital policy. It should only be used for important and work-related stuff."

"It's important."

"It isn't really if it's not a matter of life and death."

Marissa sighed, exasperated at House's stubbornness. "Look, I'm really sorry to be bothering you, but Dr. Kutner's in the operating room. I just really have to talk to her. Please."

"About what?" House challenged.

"About… stuff," Marissa muttered, her eyes on the table.

House narrowed his eyes. "Couple stuff?"

Marissa's eyes met House's briefly and that was all he needed for an answer.

House smirked. "Well why didn't you just say so?"

---

A confused look appeared on Thirteen's as she entered House's office and saw no one there.

She took out her pager and pushed a button to double-check who had paged her. She scowled when she saw House's office's phone number. She snuck a peek at the adjacent room and saw it was empty, too. She turned around to leave and walked out of the room, but she was shortly stopped by a figure blocking her path.

"Marissa," Thirteen said, immediately dreading whatever was going to happen.

"Can we talk?" Marissa asked. "Please?"

Thirteen cleared her throat. "Is it important? Can't we do it later?" she asked in a cool, professional manner. "'Cause I have to—"

"It's important," Marissa cut her off.

Slightly appalled at the seriousness in Marissa's voice and manner of talking, Thirteen nodded as she fought to keep the professional-ness in her words and actions. "Inside?" she asked, gesturing to the conference room with a nod.

Thirteen stood awkwardly in front of Marissa but did not hold her steady gaze for more than a couple of seconds. She shoved her hands into her pockets, having no idea what to do with them. "What's up?" she dared ask in a forced nonchalant manner.

"Why did you run away?" Marissa asked, cutting to the chase. "Why won't you let this happen?"

Thirteen's eyes widened slightly. Why must Marissa come and make everything so difficult?

"Why won't I let what happen?" she asked, trying to sound like she didn't know what.

There was a pause. Marissa seemed to be considering what to say next.

"Alex, I… I want it back. I want your heart back." She took a deep breath. "Alex, I think I'm falling for you."

There was silence for about a whole minute. Marissa felt like it was the longest minute of her life.

The reaction Marissa was waiting for soon came in a form of an unamused smile. Marissa's face fell, not expecting that at all.

"Alex…"

Marissa's little declaration elicited a laugh from Thirteen—a laugh that was void of all humor. "No, you're not."

Marissa frowned. "That's not for you to say."

Thirteen laughed that cold, humorless, hollow little laugh again. "What, you changed your mind in twenty-one hours? Do you really fall in love that fast?"

"What do you mean I—? I didn't—"

"You don't need to explain. I don't care."

"Listen to me—"

"You don't love me. You didn't love me. I don't think you ever even really liked being with me, except when you got to tell your mother that you're with a girl."

Marissa felt like crying. She hadn't known Thirteen felt that way. She had never felt so sorry for anyone in her life. "That's not true. I did like being with you."

Thirteen shook her head. "You're only saying that because you don't want to hurt my feelings. But guess what. You hurt me enough already."

"No, Alex, I'm saying it because it's true."

Thirteen shook her head, avoiding Marissa's eyes.

"Alex…" Marissa walked closer to Thirteen, bringing her hands up but not actually touching Thirteen. "I'm sorry."

Thirteen shook her own head, refusing to meet Marissa's eyes because of fear that she'll lose her mind and fold if she did. "No, look, you don't have to say that," she said.

"No, Alex," Marissa protested. "I made a mistake. I was a selfish, fickle idiot who didn't know what she wants, and I—"

"Was an experimenting teenager who found excitement in skipping school to hang out with the edgy, out-of-school, bartender in the coolest hangout in town."

"Alex…" Marissa let out resignedly.

"No, Marissa, I get it. You were the rich, popular girl who lived a comfortable life and could have had everything she wanted, and I was the irresponsible, high-school-dropout who had nothing going on for her. You had a comfortable life before you moved in with me, and I understand that. I couldn't provide you with what you wanted and needed, 'cause well, I could barely even provide for myself."

Marissa opened her mouth to argue but Thirteen didn't give her a chance.

"You were young, you easily got bored. I was the cool and… exciting… novelty, weapon of torture against your mom and Ryan was the tried-and-tested safe ground," Thirteen said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

"Alex, nothing happened with Ryan," Marissa insisted, frustrated that he had to be brought up again.

"No… Yet I was right, wasn't I?" Thirteen said, her smile mocking. Marissa closed her eyes and turned her head a little to the side. "How long did it take you two to get back together? A month? A week? Less?"

Marissa opened her mouth to protest, but she was silenced by words that painfully rang true. She closed her mouth; she had nothing to answer to that.

Thirteen almost like she was about to cry, which would be a very big deal since Alex was never a crier… at least for the time Marissa knew her. At the same time she sounded angry, like she would be lashing out by now if she wasn't holding back. Marissa knew she had every reason to be.

"I can't do this again, Marissa." I want to, though, and I despise myself for it.

Marissa stood in the room, alone, helpless, and heartbroken, as Thirteen walked away.

---

House put his foot down to stop his scooter from moving any further. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Marissa walking alone and seemingly aimlessly down the hospital's hallway. He got down from the scooter and picked it up, folded it and handed it to Wilson, who was standing by the nurses' station writing something on a chart.

Wilson just stared after House limped towards the elevator after Marissa, so baffled he wasn't able to react in time.

House looked to his side and saw Marissa, who had her head hanging down and her eyes staring off to nowhere.

"I take it your working out the couple stuff didn't go too well?"

Marissa slightly shook her head, not bothering to look up.

House nodded and looked away from Marissa.

"Why does this have to be so hard?"

House turned her head to look at Marissa again, mildly surprised to hear her speak up. "Oh no, here we go with the metaphysics talk again. Why did I ever have to follow you here?" he whispered to himself.

"This is just so hard," Marissa said despondently, ignoring House.

"Life is hard," House replied.

"Why does it have to be?"

"Okay, what you need is a prescription for bisexadrine. Sorry, but you came to the wrong doctor. Only Thirteen can help you with that."

Marissa ignored him again. "I can't help it."

House didn't reply this time. He simply waited for Marissa to go on.

"I can't help myself," Marissa said, slightly shaking her head. "I'm trying, but whatever I do, I just end up feeling the same about her, sometimes even stronger. Holding back does nothing but make me want to be with her more. So I figured, why hold back? 'Cause really, plus ça change…"

There was a pause before House nodded once. "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

"Yeah," Marissa said, her voice a whisper. "Yeah, exactly."

The door of the elevator opened and both Marissa and House stepped out.

"It's three PM," House said, stopping Marissa. "Wanna go get a drink?"

Marissa looked at him. "You read my mind."

---

Thirteen sat on the sofa, her elbows rested on her knees and her head cradled in her hands.

I think I'm falling for you.

It's been three weeks since she heard it being said, yet she could hear it as if it were being said to her now.

I think I'm falling for you.

She didn't know if that was something to be happy about. It only proved two things: one, that Marissa's still lied like a pro, and two, that she was really never in love with her.

Infatuation. That was all everything was for her when, for Thirteen, it was the best, most real relationship she had in her life. Now how messed up was that?

She brought her hands to her face and rubbed it with her palms in an attempt to clear her mind. Then she took off her coat, pushed it aside on the arm of the sofa, closed her eyes, and sat back with a tired sigh. She was about to slip into sleep when she heard the distant sound of a door being opened and closed. She ignored it and kept her eyes closed, figuring it was just one of the doctors who, like her, were just so tired it'd be dangerous to go on about running around trying to cure sick people, and who just needed to catch on some sleep by way of a 15-minute power nap. Her nap, however, was interrupted when she felt someone sink into the couch next to her and rather rudely turned on the TV when obviously somebody was trying to sleep.

"Wow, hi-def. Sweet," said the person.

Thirteen opened her eyes and turned to give the person an angry glare just so he'd get a clue. Her anger turned to surprise, though, when she finally saw who it was.

"Seth?"

"That's me," Seth said with a smile, not looking at her as he flipped through the channels. He stopped once he stumbled upon a free TV broadcast of X-Men: The Last Stand on cable.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ah, you know, just thought I'd say hi."

"At eleven PM?" Thirteen studied him for a while as he appeared focused on the movie. "How d'you know where to find me anyway?"

"Looked in every single room in the hospital, how else?"

Thirteen arched a brow.

"Saw you in the hallway and followed you."

Thirteen rolled her eyes. "Well, hi."

"Hello, Alex. It's nice to see you again, too."

Thirteen snatched the remote control from Seth's hand and turned the TV off. "Tell me why you're really here, Seth."

"Hey, that was my favorite part," Seth complained.

Thirteen raised a perfectly sculpted brow.

Seth sighed. "Orders from the missus."

Thirteen's brows furrowed in confusion. "What does Summer have to do with this?"

"She's…" Seth paused, looking deflated. "You know how she is when it comes to Marissa."

Thirteen bit her lip and nodded, finally understanding. "And what's she sent you here for? Are you gonna annoy me into talking to her?" she asked almost mockingly.

"If you don't just promise you will at least try then I'm going to have to," Seth said matter-of-factly.

Thirteen rolled her eyes. "You can't make me."

"No?" Seth raised his hands, threatening to tickle Thirteen if she answers wrongly.

"No, Seth."

"No?" Seth's hands swooped towards Thirteen's waists where he knew (from experience, too, he notes a little naughtily) she was most ticklish.

"Seth!"

"Can't I, huh? Can't I?"

"Stop, Seth! You're acting like you're eight again!" Thirteen slapped his hands away and tried to keep an angry, annoyed glare though it didn't quite work as well as she had hoped it will. Unable to hold her laughter back, she pushed Seth away roughly.

"Ow, hey, alright, I'll stop." Seth rubbed his arm. "Look, Alex, just listen to me first, okay?"

"Seth, Marissa's… It's… It's just not gonna work."

"No, I know, I know. Believe me or not, I know where you're coming from… And I know how much this has all been hard on you, but… You should at least talk to her and hear her out, Alex."

Thirteen shook her head, as if refusing to listen. "Seth, I… I don't wanna be lied to again… I can't afford to go through all that… pain… again." Thirteen looked into Seth's eyes, as if willing him to understand. "If I do, I'm afraid it's going to break me… again... and for good this time… and I'd really want to spend the rest of my sh—" she caught herself just in time, "—my life… intact and whole… and I'm already hardly that, as it is."

Seth stared back into Thirteen's eyes. Normally, he'd be in awe, but this time, he wasn't. Thirteen's eyes held nothing of the beauty they usually had. All that was left was sadness and misery. He was touched she's opening up to him; he doubted she ever let herself be this vulnerable to anyone for quite a while. Also, his heart nearly broke, mostly because of guilt for the part he had played in her pain.

"I just want my life to be… drama-free… you know?" She looked away from his eyes. "God, I've had more than enough drama to last me a lifetime."

Seth didn't say anything for a long while, but then finally nodded slightly after some time. "You know…" he started. "I was going to come find you even before Summer told—ordered—me to."

Thirteen looked at him.

"It's just, it's been eating me how I've contributed to this… rift… you have with Ryan and with Marissa."

Thirteen shook her head, confused. "What do you mean 'contributed'…?"

"Do you remember that bonfire thing we had at Harbor, when you were still in Newport? The one Marissa was in charge to organize?"

Thirteen clenched her jaw at the mention of a bad memory. "How can I ever forget?"

Seth nodded sympathetically. "And do you remember that we had this gigantic horse burned that year?"

Thirteen nodded. "Ryan's?" she asked curtly, managing to keep herself from sounding bitter and accusatory.

"Yeah…" Seth replied. "Well… that was kind of, um, my idea to, um… have them work together."

Thirteen looked at him with an unreadable expression. He decided to go on.

"I pushed them into doing it. Summer warned me against it, but I didn't listen, and before I know it… you guys were broken up… at that bonfire."

He continued when Thirteen didn't say anything. "The thing is, I was wrong… to think that the four of us would be the same again. I mean, Ryan and Marissa did get back together, but believe me, it was a long, rocky road for the two of them. They were okay for a while, and they actually even got engaged at one point in time, but it was just never the same, you know what I mean?" He looked at Thirteen, but still didn't get a response. "Look, what I'm trying to say here is… I'm sorry."

Thirteen studied him for some time. She finally nodded her understanding, partly in amazement at how sincere and serious he sounded. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. She didn't love me and I blame no one for that. It wasn't your fault she did what she did."

Seth sighed inwardly. "Marissa's not perfect."

"And I don't expect her to be," Thirteen replied tiredly. "I just need her to be true to me. I have nothing else left and yet that's all I find myself wanting to have."

Seth placed a hand on Thirteen's shoulder. "Look, she's sorry. Everything wrong she's done, she regrets it. She's been drinking so much again and Summer's going nuts with worry about her. If that isn't regret she's feeling, I have no idea what it is."

Thirteen shook her head, determined to dismiss her worry about Marissa getting herself wasted because she's upset. "I can't do it."

"Why?"

"Because, Seth." Thirteen said.

"Because…?" Seth asked cautiously.

"I can't…" Thirteen moistened her lips and looked at her feet. "I just can't afford to fall hard for this girl again." Except I already have. "I just can't do it anymore." Thirteen looked up and met Seth's eyes, willing him to get her point.

Seth nodded slowly. Thirteen dropped his gaze and looked away.

"She's sorry, Alex," Seth iterated. "And more importantly, she really cares about you. Give her a chance. You said you've got nothing left, so what're you so afraid to lose?" he asked. "Think about it."

Thirteen swallowed and moistened her lips. Seth was relieved she did seem to be thinking about it. His relief got exponentially greater when she nodded and gave a small smile.

"You've changed," Thirteen told Seth. "I think you may have actually aged a couple of years or so."

Seth grinned. "What did I tell you?"

Thirteen chuckled.

"You know, so have you," Seth said. "You've changed, too."

Thirteen smiled. "So I've been told."

"I still can't believe you're a doctor, though."

"I still can't believe you're a parent," Thirteen shot back, scoffing.

"A pretty good one, too, I daresay," Seth said proudly.

Thirteen chuckled. "You better be, or I'll bend your chicken arms in every way they're not supposed to and I promise you won't like it."

---

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Hi, um, I'm here to see Ms. Marissa Cooper?"

"You have an appointment?"

"Um, no. I'm her, uh, family doctor. I just need to talk to her about her, uh… medical insurance."

"Your name, please?"

"Rem—" Thirteen paused. "Alex. Alex Hadley."

"Alright, Ms. Hadley, please wait until I reach Ms. Cooper's office to check if she's available."

Thirteen nodded. "Thank you." She turned away from the reception's desk and sat on the artsy, uncomfortable-looking couch nearby. She looked around disinterestedly at the framed posters depicting models in fashionable clothes on the brightly colored walls. As she did so, she caught sight of a tall, handsome man in a suit and slicked-back dark hair who appeared to be smooth-talking a girl by the way he was flashing his pearly whites and puffing out his chest.

Thirteen rolled her eyes. Men.

---

"So what do you say, Riss?"

Marissa inwardly scowled. She hated it when he calls her that like he knows her. "I'm really sorry, Mr. McKenzie—"

"Martin," he corrected.

"Martin, well… but um, I really can't go. I have a lot of other important things to do." She walked past him, going on in her journey to the reception area where she had to inquire about the printer she was expecting who didn't show up.

Far from giving up, Martin sprinted to catch up with her. "Come on, Riss, it's a plus-one black-tie event. Everybody who's anybody would be there."

"No, Martin, I really can't. Why don't you try asking your models? I'm sure they will be happy to accompany you to this party."

Martin took the folder Marissa was holding and used his other hand to hold Marissa's now-free hand in his. "I'm sure they will. However, I will only be happy if you're going to be the one to go with me," he said in what he assumed was a charming way.

"Um…" Marissa began to protest, trying to pull her hand out of his grasp at the process, but was stopped by a familiar voice, the owner of whom she'd been aching to see for about a month now.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I believe she already said no."

Martin turned to find Thirteen glowering at him, still without letting go of Marissa's hand. "Can I help you?"

"You could let go of her," Thirteen replied coolly.

Martin looked her up and down, slightly smirking as he did so. The glint in his eyes told Marissa he liked what he was seeing. To Marissa's relief, he finally let go of her hand as he turned back to her fully to offer Thirteen his hand.

"Martin McKenzie, owner of the magazine Ms. Marissa Cooper here writes for," he said smoothly.

Thirteen took his hand and briefly shook it. "Alex Hadley. I'm Marissa's friend."

"I see. People mostly call me by my first name, but you can call me anything you want."

Thirteen let go and smiled. "I'm sure I will."

"Well, I shall go now." Martin faced Marissa again and flashed her another one of his best smiles. "Ms. Cooper."

Marissa nodded politely.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hadley." With that, Martin walked away, winking at the receptionist as he passed by the reception's desk.

Thirteen and Marissa stood awkwardly, unable to say a word, much less look at each other straight in the eye.

"Hi," Thirteen said finally.

"Hi," Marissa replied. "Um, thanks… for that."

"Sure," Thirteen said, nodding slightly. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you or anything?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. I mean, he's an absolute jackass but he's completely harmless."

"So far," Thirteen remarked scornfully. "Let me know if he bothers you again."

Marissa smiled and nodded. "Thanks."

"So, um… can I talk to you… someplace private?"

"Um… yeah, okay. How about my office?"

"That would be great."

---

"Nice office," Thirteen commented without really looking. She was staring at Marissa, who had her back to her as she was leading her into the room.

"Thanks," Marissa replied. She turned to face Thirteen. "Would you like something to drink? I could get my secretary to make us both coffee or something," she offered.

"Coffee sounds great," Thirteen replied.

Marissa nodded silently and then started towards the door.

"You never gave it back," Thirteen suddenly said, stopping Marissa.

[cue Eve, the Apple of My Eye piano intro here ;-)]

Slowly, Marissa turned to Thirteen. "What?"

"My heart," Thirteen said.

You left it.

I sent it.

I want it back.

"…You never really gave it back."

A confused look crossed Marissa's face. "But I… I did… I sent your necklace to your parents' house, in LA. Didn't you get it? I was going to send it to Jodie's, just in case you were there, but I was afraid she might keep it for herself. Do you think your dad—"

"No," Thirteen interrupted her almost frustratedly and tiredly. "Not my necklace. My necklace is in a box, in my drawer. It's been there for the last eleven years, untouched." She paused and let out a breath. "I'm talking about my heart."

If I had you here, I'd clip your wings,

Snap you up and leave you sprawling on my pin.

This plan of mine is oh so very lame.

Can't you see the grass is greener where it rains?

"You've stolen it… and you never really gave it back." Thirteen walked towards Marissa slowly, not stopping until she was only about a foot away. She slowly took Marissa's hand and placed it on her heart. "Do you feel it?"

Marissa nodded as she looked into Thirteen's eyes and got lost in their beauty.

"It only started beating again when I saw you again just weeks ago," Thirteen said in a voice that was almost just a whisper. "Before that, I was a dead person walking, going through each day dreading the next."

You left, I died.

I went, you cried.

You came, I think, but I'll never really know.

I served my time, I watched you climb the wrong incline,

But what do I know?

"But when I saw you again… I felt alive… I felt hope… Hope that it's not the end of the world after all."

Marissa brought her other hand to Thirteen's cheek. She stroked it lovingly with her thumb. "Is it really not?" she asked. "Because it most certainly felt like it was before you came to save me from my macho jackass boss."

Thirteen chuckled, but she was soon silenced by Marissa's soft lips crashing against hers.

Marissa cupped Thirteen's face with his hands and kissed her with all the yearning she felt in her body.

When I lie behind you,

And I cradle you in the palm of me,

And I pat your hair down,

I think we'll either sink or swim,

'Cause we could do either on a whim.

Thirteen placed her hands on Marissa's waist and sighed into the kiss. It's not the end of the world after all.

---

*Song by Bell X1 ("Eve, the Apple of My Eye")