A/N: Thank you all SO much for your reviews! I really appreciate the comments and feedback. Please keep them coming.

A/N 2: The first song excerpt is Hedley's "She's So Sorry" and the second one is Hedley's "Brave New World". I clearly do not own either of these.

Chapter Twelve:

She sighed in frustration for the millionth time as she looked down at the front left tire of her Mustang. She had pulled it to the side of the road after noticing that her car was becoming harder to control. Plus, the sound of metal grinding against the road was a bit of a tip-off that something was wrong. Getting out of the car to examine the damage, she could see that the tire was obviously flat; diagnosing the problem had not been difficult. Fixing it, however, was another story. She wasn't a complete idiot when it came to cars but using one of the "jack-things", as she called them, to lift up the car and change the tire was definitely beyond her level of ability.

She leaned against the hood of her car, waiting for help to arrive. Her first instinct had been to call her father, but he wasn't back in town yet, and he didn't even know she was in Toronto. And then she'd wasted ten minutes pacing back and forth in front of her car, trying to decide who exactly she should call. She had dialed Tommy's number three times, each time hanging up before she hit the 'send' button. She had been hit by a barrage of memories of the many times Tommy had raced to her aid. He had always been her rescuer, even before they were married, or even dating. She couldn't count the number of times he'd picked her up from the sketchy neighbourhood that the rehearsal space was in when she'd been practicing late and didn't want to leave the building by herself. Without hesitation, he would drive right over, walk her out of the building and follow her home, even waiting to make sure she got in the door before driving away. She knew this was exactly the kind of situation he would jump to rescue her from. And that's exactly why she decided not to phone him. She had depended on him in a lot of ways since they met and she couldn't let herself fall back into that pattern. Besides, she hadn't even spoken more than three words to him in almost a week, since she'd admitted to him she couldn't kick him completely out of her life. It had been a foolish thing to say and she knew it would only confuse him, but it was the only thing she could live with. For some inexplicable reason, regardless of everything they had been through, she just couldn't imagine her life without him in it. She'd lived for two years without seeing him or talking to him and she'd been miserable. So, this had to be an improvement, right? She just hoped that someday they'd be friends again without all the awkwardness and bitterness, but she wondered if that was even possible.

She'd settled on calling Kwest, the third person she thought of. As she stood, waiting for him, she was still internally debating whether she should have called Tommy. It could have been a gesture of friendship. Or it could have been misconstrued as something more than that. She had to face the fact that she had no idea what to do when it came to Tommy.

She sighed deeply, wondering what was taking Kwest so long. He was at G-Major, which was only 10 minutes from where she had pulled over her car. As she glanced at her watch, she heard the purr of a car pull up behind hers. Finally, she thought to herself, relieved that he was finally there. But that relief changed to panic when the bright blue color of the car caught her eye before she even looked up.

She groaned in frustration as she observed that it was, in fact, the Viper that had parked behind her. She watched, unable to stop herself from staring in disbelief, as Tommy climbed out from the driver's side of the car. She knew that she had contemplated phoning him herself, but she surmised that she'd have to yell at Kwest later for forcing Tommy on her and not even having the decency to phone and warn her.

He adjusted his sunglasses, moving them to the top of his head, and she felt a shiver run down her back at the familiar gesture. She knew this man like the back of hand, even still. It was more than a bit unsettling.

"Need a bit of help there?" He asked as he approached, smirking at her in that familiar way that always got under her skin. In a good way.

She shrugged off the arousal that shot through her with that smile. "What happened to Kwest?"

Tommy continued smiling, anticipating her frustration. "I called him just as he was leaving to help you. He mentioned your problem and I said I'd come since I was heading to G-Major and he was already at work."

He stood beside her, too close, as he analyzed the damage. His arm grazed hers and she moved slightly to place distance between them. Remove the temptation and it will be easier, she thought to herself.

He crouched down, looking closer at the tire. He touched it, gauging the level of pressure. "It's pretty bad. There must be a leak in it somewhere," he said, turning his head to glance up at her. "Do you still have the spare in the trunk?"

She nodded. "I don't know if Kwest and Sadie kept it pumped up, though. For all I know, it might be flat too."

"Well, let's check it out," he said, standing up and reaching inside the door of the Mustang to hit the button that would open the trunk. She mused that it looked like he hadn't forgotten much either, even about her car.

She followed him to the trunk, where he felt the spare tire. "It's a little weak, but it's better than the one you've got on there. At least until we can get you to a gas station to have a new tire put on."

He grabbed the wrench and freed the spare tire from the bolt that was keeping it attached to the inside of her trunk. He lugged the tire out of the trunk, carrying it to the front of the car. "Hey, can you grab the jack for me?"

She looked back into the trunk and pulled out what she assumed was the jack. She turned back to hand it to him, when she noticed that he'd removed his leather jacket and tossed it on the hood. He was rolling up his sleeves, and her eyes immediately searched for the little scar that she knew she'd find on his left forearm. During a particularly nasty fight, she'd thrown a vase at him. It had shattered and had cut him deeply. She'd run to him, more worried about what possible harm she had done to him than winning the argument. She couldn't help but surmise that they'd left their marks on each other in more ways than one.

His eyes followed hers, noticing where her gaze had landed. He chuckled softly. "Thinking about inflicting another wound?" he joked, holding out his hand to take the jack.

"I guess you better watch your back," she quipped, shooting a small smile at him and placing the jack in his hands.

She watched him work, occasionally assisting him whenever he requested it. But mostly she just stared at him, at the bicep muscles she could see through the thin material of his shirt. She didn't know why, but something about him doing manual labor was so… appealing to her. She shook her head, thinking how inappropriate her thoughts were. They were getting a divorce. For so many reasons, they were over. She couldn't let herself think about him in that way anymore. No matter how tempting he was.

She averted her eyes, deciding the best way to avoid temptation was by not looking at him. She heard him stand and turned her head to see him wipe the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

"All done," he said, dragging the flat tire to stash it in the trunk. She heard the trunk slam and the crunch of gravel under his feet as he returned to her side.

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Tommy. I do really appreciate your help."

He smirked, one that told her she wasn't getting away that easily. "Don't thank me quite yet. I was hoping that in return you'd do something for me."

"What's that?" she asked, suspiciously, her defenses already rising against whatever he was about to request.

"I want to talk. I want you and me to sit down and have a real discussion. I think it's beyond time for that."

She sighed loudly, looking off into the distance. "Tommy—"

"Please…" She made the mistake of looking back at him, taking in the pleading puppy dog look on his face. "Fine," she conceded. "Tonight, at G-Major once everyone is gone. But this doesn't change anything. Talking won't change what has to happen."

He smiled, clearly happy that she even agreed to talk to him. She had the sneaking suspicion that her last words fell on deaf ears. One way or the other she would make him understand. She had to.

"Give me your keys," he requested suddenly.

"Why?"

"I'll take it into the shop for you. I always dealt with them about your car, anyway."

"But—" She began to protest when she realized that she was late for a meeting with SME and Darius. "But how am I going to get to work?"

She caught Tommy glancing at the Viper, and noticed his reluctance as he held out the keys. "Just be careful with her," he warned.

She couldn't help but laugh. Driving his Viper was a pleasure she'd barely gotten to experience even when they were together. "Don't worry… she's in good hands."

He laughed boisterously, and she couldn't help but feel offended. "I've seen you drive, remember?"

"Ha. Ha," she commented sarcastically. "But what do you expect, considering who taught me. See you later, Quincy," she threw over her shoulder as she walked over to the Viper. The anticipation and excitement washed over her as she sat down in the comfortable leather seat. It was heaven, just how she remembered it.

She started the engine, and raced away speedily, mostly to irritate him. She waved at him as she drove by and, to her surprise, she could've sworn she saw Quincy shaking with laughter at her defiant move.

Her meeting with Darius and SME was quick, but very fruitful. As promised, Darius agreed that Jude could produce them at the same time as she was recording the last few songs on her unfinished CD.

They'd immediately gotten to work on a heavy rock song, which, from the lyrics, Jude could only assume was about Karma.

"Okay, 'She's So Sorry' take four," Jude said, signaling for the band to begin again. It was a great, angry rock song but Speid just wasn't nailing it. And she assumed it had something to do with being back in the same building where Karma worked. She, better than anyone, knew it was a lot easier when you didn't have to actually face the person you were angry at. She'd been so focusing on herself, she'd neglected to remember how hard returning to Toronto might be for Speid too.

We started out okay,
But you threw it all away.
My god what's going on in your head?
For all we could have found,
Just to let it hit the ground.
Well I'm good and done
We're over and dead.

And yes I'm leaving you it's obvious,
So wipe that stupid look right off of your face.

"Cut!" Jude yelled through the intercom, and the music stopped. He still wasn't nailing it; in fact, it was getting worse. "Kyle, Wally, you guys can take your lunch break, okay?"

They left without a second thought, and Jude made her way into the recording booth.

Speid leaned his guitar against the wall and collapsed on a chair.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked, pulling up another chair to sit beside him. She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

He sighed heavily before saying anything. "I ran into Karma this morning. And you know what, she actually asked me to take her back! After all this time."

"Do you want to?"

"Hell no. It's just, no matter what I do, she's there, in my brain and now in front of my face. But I don't want her back. I'm just… the song is really angry and I'm not really feeling that way right now."

"Okay, so let's save that song for later, when you are feeling angry. Is there a song you want to work on today? If you're not feeling up to being around here today, believe me I understand. We can start again tomorrow."

She could see his eyes light up, and she knew he had an idea. "There is a song, actually," he said rummaging through his backpack and pulling out some papers. "It's not quite ready yet, though. Maybe you can help with some of the lyrics."

Jude nodded, more than happy that, instead of focusing on her own pain, she could possibly help Speid get over his.

He handed her the papers and she looked over the words, bopping her head to the music that was already filling her head. She grabbed Speid's guitar and played the tune that had come to her.

"Dude, I love that," Speid said. He began to sing along with the music she was playing.

Hello, I love you
Won't you tell me your name?
Hello, I need you, like a bullet to my brain
It seems I'm never breaking free
While you sit and watch me bleed
When the night falls there's nowhere to go

"Speid, this sounds amazing!" Jude exclaimed, excitement filling her for the first time in a very long time. She could feel herself getting wrapped up in the collaborative song-writing process, something she hadn't taken part in since she'd left Toronto. In LA, she'd always written by herself, and she never realized how much she'd missed it. And no matter how much she loved or clicked with Speed, a part of her was yearning for her normal song-writing partner.

Inspiration washed over her, too overwhelming for her to control. "What about this next?" she asked, and without thinking about what she was doing, she opened her mouth, allowing her rich, powerful tone to fill the air.

I won't let you in, let you see me cry.
I can't give you that satisfaction this time

She perceived Speid's shocked face and she realized what she had done. She slapped her hand over her mouth, stopping any further sound from escaping.

She had just sung. She couldn't believe after all this time, that the first time she would seriously sing would be in such an accidental way. She couldn't stop the resulting emotions from overpowering her. Singing again had felt amazing, liberating. But it also held a lot of baggage from her past, a lot of residual hurt and heartache. And when she sang, when she opened herself up to the vulnerability that singing brought to her, those mixed emotions threatened to engulf her.

She looked at Speid, who was still recovering from the surprise of hearing her voice again. "Dude, that was amazing … as flawless as ever."

She didn't know what to say; she'd honestly wondered if she still even had it in her. Well, apparently she did.

"Looks like the old Jude is back…" Speid said, smiling and grabbing her hand tightly.

She half-smiled at his assertion. The old Jude was gone, probably for good. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm actually kinda relieved I can still even sing. I was a little worried, I have to admit. But the problem is, it was never the singing that was the problem. It's the feelings, the emotions… just everything that goes along with it. Am I ready to open myself up to all that again?" She stared away from him, thinking seriously about the question she'd just posed.

It was a rhetorical question, and Speid knew this but he decided to answer it anyway. "I think you are. I think you need to. It's who you are. And I think we both know it's time to stop hiding from that."

She nodded, taking in his words. "How about we take that lunch break too?" she asked, completely evading the thought. He knew exactly what she was doing. She needed time. She'd realize it was right, but he knew she had to find that out for herself.

As she headed out to the kitchen, he sat for a moment longer, thinking about the breakthrough he had just witnessed. She had sung, and it was just as beautiful as he remembered. She had one of those voices, 

the ones you never forget. And yet, every time you hear it, the beauty and the perfection of it overwhelms you and it's like you're hearing it for the first time. Her voice had power; there was innate raw, unbridled emotion that she didn't even have to try to evoke. He shivered, just thinking about it.

She was back. Every day, she was becoming a little bit more like the old Jude. He knew that, as hard as it was, being home was helping her. The emptiness he'd seen in her only a few short weeks ago when they'd run into each other in Vancouver was slowly being replaced by something else. He wasn't sure what it was. It wasn't quite happiness. After all she'd been through, he knew it would be a while before she would let herself be truly happy. But there was a sense of peace and acceptance that was slowly finding a place inside her. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew that Tommy Quincy was likely the only person who could truly help her really come to terms with everything.

She walked towards the kitchen, not really paying attention to where she was going. She was more shaken than she wanted to admit. She didn't even know how to feel about what she'd just done. She knew she'd have to do it sooner or later, but she wasn't prepared for the whirlwind of emotions, good and bad, that accompanied the music that escaped from her lips.

She took a deep breath, trying to settle her emotions, when someone touched her shoulder lightly.

She jumped, startled, and spun around quickly to find herself face to face with Jamie.

His smile immediately disappeared when he took in her troubled expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… I just… I sang…" she managed to say. She noticed Jamie's confused expression and realized that, since she hadn't told him anything yet, he had no clue why this was such a big deal. The Jude he knew was always singing. Even when people wished she would shut up.

"Do you have a minute? There's actually something I need to talk to you about. And I think there's some pertinent information you need to fill the Jamester in on."

Regardless of her dawning sadness, she couldn't help smirking. "The Jamester?"

He smiled, wondering if he should keep the nickname, just to make her smile. "Shut up, unless you want me to call you the Judester."

She rolled her eyes, laughing lightly. "Your office?"

He nodded, swinging his arm around her shoulders and leading her in that direction. She halted her footsteps in the doorway, her eyes zoning in on something on his desk.

She stepped slowly forward, picking up the item in question. "Licorice? Since when do you like red licorice?"

He grabbed the large bag out of her hands, shoving it into the top drawer of his desk. "Ummm… he left a bag around once, a few months ago, and I tried it. I've been hooked ever since." He looked away uncomfortably.

Jude laughed, loudly. She couldn't believe that Quincy was passing on his habits to other people. "Jamie, it's okay. Look, I'm living here now; you can mention his name without being afraid that I'm going to slit my wrists." She could see the shock on Jamie's face at her words, and she was immediately sorry she used such a harsh example. She cleared her throat, walking around Jamie's desk to open the top drawer and 

pull out the bag of licorice. She was hungry, and she kind of missed eating this stuff. She collapsed into one of the chairs in his office, propping her legs up on the desk. "So, he still eats this stuff?"

"All of the time," Jamie said, collapsing in the chair beside Jude's and reaching his hand in for a few pieces of licorice. "Especially after a bad drinking episode…. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned that."

"No, it's okay. So, he still does that too, I guess?"

Jamie nodded reluctantly. "Not once since you've been back, though."

Feeling the conversation hitting a bit too close to home, she changed the subject. "So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

He stood up, walking around his desk to pick up a newspaper. He placed it gently in front of her, sitting back down beside her.

She stared at the images and the headline for a minute, without really taking it in. It was her and Tommy, standing in the alley of G-Major almost a week ago. She couldn't believe the paparazzi had caught that one moment that she'd been talking to him.

And then it began to dawn on her what this actually meant.

Uh oh. They knew she was back. And she had the front page of the newspaper to prove it.

The headline read "Canada's Supercouple: Reunited At Last", and as she examined the picture more closely, she noticed Tommy's tender gaze and her own half-smile. It actually looked like a love-filled moment instead of what it actually was – two parents talking about their stillborn daughter.

"Oh God. This isn't good." But it was inevitable. She had been at the peak of stardom in Canada when she'd walked away two years ago. And she and Tommy together created even more buzz. She knew this was going to happen eventually. "I can't believe Darius didn't mention it this morning…"

"I asked him to let me break the news. I knew you wouldn't be happy."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," she said, shooting him a grateful smile. "But I knew this was going to happen eventually. It looks like I've fully re-entered the circus that was my previous life." She sighed loudly, knowing the media frenzy that was going to surround her the minute she walked out the door from now on. "Honestly, I'm surprised that this hadn't happened already. These photos are almost a week old."

"Whoever took them must not have realized who exactly they were photographing, or they would have pounced on it."

She looked at him, at the face of her best friend, and she suddenly felt sadness wash over her. Sadness at missing two years of his life. For not calling him all that time. She knew he wasn't mad, and she also knew that he should be. And she suddenly realized that she needed to tell him everything. All the gory details of what happened two years ago.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, her eyes filling up with tears.

Clearly confused by her apology, he reached forward to take a hold of her hands. "Jude, what –"

"For everything. For leaving you without a word, for never calling. I'm just sorry. It wasn't fair to any of you, and I have to live with that. But I need to tell you. You need to know why."

And she told him. Every detail. Every word that Tommy said and could never take back. She watched the shock and horror and anger flash across his face. She cried, as she always did when she relived one of the most painful days of her life, and he cried, in sympathy and for all the hurt that he couldn't help her deal with.

When she was finished, he jumped out of his chair, heading for the door. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go kill that bastard!"

"Jamie!!" she yelled, jumping up to get between him and the door. "You're not going to kill him. What would that do? Only you and Speid know and neither of you are going to tell anyone. I don't want everyone around her hating him for something that he said two years ago."

"It wasn't just some little thing!" Jamie yelled, outraged. "He might as well have ripped out your heart and handed it to you!"

"Unfortunately I am well aware of how it felt. But it's between the two of us. No one else needs to get involved. I told you because you're my best friend. You've been through everything with me, including losing Chloe. You were the one who was there for me when my husband should have been. But he was in pain too."

"And that excuses what he said?? How can you just let it go?"

The anger returned to the surface of her emotions. "Believe me, I haven't. I can't forget about it or forgive him, but that doesn't mean I want to live with this tension anymore. I just want to move on. And once I have the divorce, I will be able to do that. Things will be better." But as she uttered the last sentence, she silently wondered who she was trying to convince – Jamie or herself?

That evening, Tommy paced his office waiting for everyone to leave G-Major. He was beyond anxious to talk to her. When he'd returned with her car and found her to give her the keys, he'd reminded her about their talk. She'd shoved the newspaper photos of them in front of him, saying that they had to set the record straight. That tonight what they were going to talk about was what to say to the press.

He didn't give a damn what the press thought. What he wanted to talk about was much more important. He needed to find out what the hell had made her suddenly run for LA two years ago. Because he had the suspicion that, until he knew that, he wouldn't likely make much headway getting her back. He must have done something. Or maybe she'd just gotten sick of his drinking. He didn't know, but he needed to find out.

A couple of minutes later, he was still pacing when he heard a soft knock on the door. He strode quickly over, almost swinging the door off its hinges in anticipation.

Jude stood outside his door, looking more than a little apprehensive. He hated that she felt that way. Long ago, she never would have stood outside his door looking so damn nervous.

He motioned for her to enter, and she immediately sat down on the couch in the corner of his office. He sat opposite her, on a chair, conscious enough of her needs to know that she needed space. Especially when she was already nervous about this whole conversation.

And as he opened his mouth to begin their discussion, he suddenly felt so relieved that this moment had finally come. After two years, it was finally time for some answers.