Disclaimer: You already know that I do not own these characters...etc.... etc...etc...
Author's Note: Warning intense emotional vibes coming up. Be warned, and no, I do not know everything about proper police protocol for accidents so please don't flame me for getting it wrong.
Chapter 3
Officer Doug Witter stepped out of his car slowly and joined the circle of rescue workers and some of his colleagues. He'd seen the emergency lights and vehicles on his way home from patrol and stopped to see if he could help. He recognized one of his squad team members and inquired about the accident.
"What do we have here John!" He shouted over the ambulance sirens and commotion.
"Officer John Hastings turned to see his colleague. "Hey, thought you were homeward bound."
"I was!" Doug replied. "But this caught my attention."
Officer Hastings nodded knowingly. "I see your point."
Doug nodded at the scene. "What happened here?"
"Young guy, about sixteen I think. Wrapped his car right around the telephone pole."
"Not on purpose?" Doug asked.
"Well according to witnesses he was driving along and suddenly took his hands off the wheel. The woman over there drove up beside him and blared her horn a couple of times but he had the music up so loud he never even heard her. Claims she had to swerve her car to get out of the way of his and he drove straight into the median."
"I thought he as going to run straight into the oncoming traffic but at the last moment he swerved and hit the pole." They overheard one of the witnesses saying as she gave her statement to one of the officers.
Doug turned back to John. "What would make a kid take his hands off of the wheel John? Something just doesn't seem right about this. Why would you take your hands off the wheel then suddenly have a fit of conscious just in time to run into a pole?"
"Maybe it was just that. Maybe the kid was contemplating suicide and like you said had a fit of conscience a little too late."
Doug viewed the wrecked vehicle. It would be a miracle if anyone lived through that. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on partner, before you came up, I was about to ID this fella. Somebody's going to have to inform his parents and I guess it's me.
"Well, what do you need me for then?" Doug asked as they walked over to the team of paramedics loading the victim on a stretcher. He caught an accidental glimpse of the victim and froze. His partner continued talking.
"Mostly for moral support. These identification searches can be pretty grisly especially if you find out you know the victim. Besides I was hoping you might recognize him as an acquaintance or friend of your brother's, to maybe help...me...ID him...faster...Doug?" Officer Hastings paused noting his partner's silence. "You alright? You know this kid?"
Before Doug could answer one of the paramedics came up beside them. "We found this in the truck next to him. It looks like the his wallet but we couldn't find any positive ID in it he must keep his license somewhere else in the car."
"Well without a license or some kind of ID we'll have to hit the local yearbooks and DMV files for our "John Doe" here." Officer Hastings replied in frustration.
"Leary." Doug blurted quietly.
John Hastings and the paramedic turned toward him. "His name is Dawson Leary, son of Mitch and Gale Leary. He's my brother's best friend."
"Aw man Doug, did you just figure that out?" Hastings asked.
"I accidentally saw them put him on the stretcher. I can't believe it. What am I going to tell Pacey?"
He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. "The only thing you can tell him Doug, the truth."
The two men watched the ambulance pull off and walked to their cars. As Officer Dough Witter pulled off behind his partner he thought about their next stop and how it wasn't going to be a very nice one at all.
Joey Potter entered the strangely ajar front door of the Leary household. She walked into the living room to find the Leary's and Pacey Witter sitting around the room with the same glum expressions on their faces. Pacey looked up as she walked in.
"Uh sorry to just walk in. The door was open." She apologized.
"Hey Potter," Pacey began, "join the party."
Gale Leary patted the seat next to her with a warm smile. "You're always welcome, Joey, you know that."
Joey nodded, and joined the group. She looked around at the grim faces and cleared her throat.
"Uh, so I guess we're all worried about Dawson hunh?" She said softly. "What happened?"
Mitch Leary glanced at his wife who closed her eyes in silent pain. He then spoke up. "Dawson accidentally walked in on his mother and I. I don't know what came over us; I guess we just wanted to take another stab at our relationship." He sighed, "Anyway Dawson walked in with something on his mind and instead found me and his mother."
"He got so upset he threw some clothes on and stormed out of the house, Of course that was about two hours ago," Gale finished. "We don't know where he went."
Pacey looked around the room in anticipation and realizing the couple was hoping for some explanation of their son's whereabouts decided to take up the story.
"I guess he came to my house next," He spoke up. "He showed up looking pretty wired." Sensing all eyes on him, Pacey continued. "When I first opened the door he just barged in talking all this nonsense about needing someone to talk to, and asking me whether he was crazy or not." Pacey sighed. "Hey, it was one o'clock in the morning. I just thought he was being Dawson so I settled back on the couch to listen to him ramble just so he could get it off of his chest. Unfortunately, I was too tired and I fell asleep. When I woke up an hour later he was gone and that's when I came over here."
Joey contemplated Pacey's story. If Dawson had been at Pacey's around one o'clock, and he had showed up on her doorstep close to two, then she must have been next on his list of good listeners. She cleared her throat and launched into her own story.
"He must have come to see me after he saw Pacey," she began. Once she knew she'd gotten their attention she continued on.
"I was really annoyed at first. He just barged in and sat in my living room without even asking." She closed her eyes remembering the previous events. "But, when I went to confront him about it I noticed he was really upset." She shook her head in frustration. "I was really going to rip into him for being so rude but the minute he looked at me." She paused to brush away newly forming tears. "The minute I saw his face and the pain in his eyes. I couldn't...I wouldn't..." Her voice broke and she decided to let the building tears flow. "I asked him what was wrong but he wouldn't tell me." She sobbed. "He just put his face in my shoulder and cried. What could I do? I knew he was hurting, but I couldn't stop it."
Pacey put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Where's Dawson now Joey?" he asked.
Joey shook her head timidly. "I don't know." She glanced up at the Learys. "He suddenly got this weird fit of conscience. He told me he couldn't do it to me."
"What Joey? What couldn't he do to you?" Mitch asked.
"I...I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. He just said he couldn't do this to me, got into his truck and drove away."
Mitch Leary arose from the couch and began to pace the room tensely.
"Think Joey, did Dawson say or do anything else before he drove away?" he asked panic creeping into his voice.
"Well," Joey thought back to the sweet warm kiss on her forehead. It was the last thing he'd done. She would never forget the tenderness she saw in his eyes. Could it be that Dawson still loved her?
"Joey!" Pacey's shout penetrated her reverie.
"Hey, where are you?" He asked.
She bent her head slightly embarrassed. "I...I was just thinking about Coach Leary's question, and the answer would have to be...no. Nothing at all." She lied.
"Well, that puts us back at our original question." Pacey replied, frustration written all over his face. "We're right back at our original question. Where is Dawson?"
"I think I can answer that," a familiar voice interrupted.
To be continued...
I know it's kind of an abrupt place to end a chapter but I'm still working out the kinks for the next part and I will have the rest up as soon as possible. That is, assuming you still want me to continue.
Author's Note: Warning intense emotional vibes coming up. Be warned, and no, I do not know everything about proper police protocol for accidents so please don't flame me for getting it wrong.
Chapter 3
Officer Doug Witter stepped out of his car slowly and joined the circle of rescue workers and some of his colleagues. He'd seen the emergency lights and vehicles on his way home from patrol and stopped to see if he could help. He recognized one of his squad team members and inquired about the accident.
"What do we have here John!" He shouted over the ambulance sirens and commotion.
"Officer John Hastings turned to see his colleague. "Hey, thought you were homeward bound."
"I was!" Doug replied. "But this caught my attention."
Officer Hastings nodded knowingly. "I see your point."
Doug nodded at the scene. "What happened here?"
"Young guy, about sixteen I think. Wrapped his car right around the telephone pole."
"Not on purpose?" Doug asked.
"Well according to witnesses he was driving along and suddenly took his hands off the wheel. The woman over there drove up beside him and blared her horn a couple of times but he had the music up so loud he never even heard her. Claims she had to swerve her car to get out of the way of his and he drove straight into the median."
"I thought he as going to run straight into the oncoming traffic but at the last moment he swerved and hit the pole." They overheard one of the witnesses saying as she gave her statement to one of the officers.
Doug turned back to John. "What would make a kid take his hands off of the wheel John? Something just doesn't seem right about this. Why would you take your hands off the wheel then suddenly have a fit of conscious just in time to run into a pole?"
"Maybe it was just that. Maybe the kid was contemplating suicide and like you said had a fit of conscience a little too late."
Doug viewed the wrecked vehicle. It would be a miracle if anyone lived through that. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on partner, before you came up, I was about to ID this fella. Somebody's going to have to inform his parents and I guess it's me.
"Well, what do you need me for then?" Doug asked as they walked over to the team of paramedics loading the victim on a stretcher. He caught an accidental glimpse of the victim and froze. His partner continued talking.
"Mostly for moral support. These identification searches can be pretty grisly especially if you find out you know the victim. Besides I was hoping you might recognize him as an acquaintance or friend of your brother's, to maybe help...me...ID him...faster...Doug?" Officer Hastings paused noting his partner's silence. "You alright? You know this kid?"
Before Doug could answer one of the paramedics came up beside them. "We found this in the truck next to him. It looks like the his wallet but we couldn't find any positive ID in it he must keep his license somewhere else in the car."
"Well without a license or some kind of ID we'll have to hit the local yearbooks and DMV files for our "John Doe" here." Officer Hastings replied in frustration.
"Leary." Doug blurted quietly.
John Hastings and the paramedic turned toward him. "His name is Dawson Leary, son of Mitch and Gale Leary. He's my brother's best friend."
"Aw man Doug, did you just figure that out?" Hastings asked.
"I accidentally saw them put him on the stretcher. I can't believe it. What am I going to tell Pacey?"
He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. "The only thing you can tell him Doug, the truth."
The two men watched the ambulance pull off and walked to their cars. As Officer Dough Witter pulled off behind his partner he thought about their next stop and how it wasn't going to be a very nice one at all.
Joey Potter entered the strangely ajar front door of the Leary household. She walked into the living room to find the Leary's and Pacey Witter sitting around the room with the same glum expressions on their faces. Pacey looked up as she walked in.
"Uh sorry to just walk in. The door was open." She apologized.
"Hey Potter," Pacey began, "join the party."
Gale Leary patted the seat next to her with a warm smile. "You're always welcome, Joey, you know that."
Joey nodded, and joined the group. She looked around at the grim faces and cleared her throat.
"Uh, so I guess we're all worried about Dawson hunh?" She said softly. "What happened?"
Mitch Leary glanced at his wife who closed her eyes in silent pain. He then spoke up. "Dawson accidentally walked in on his mother and I. I don't know what came over us; I guess we just wanted to take another stab at our relationship." He sighed, "Anyway Dawson walked in with something on his mind and instead found me and his mother."
"He got so upset he threw some clothes on and stormed out of the house, Of course that was about two hours ago," Gale finished. "We don't know where he went."
Pacey looked around the room in anticipation and realizing the couple was hoping for some explanation of their son's whereabouts decided to take up the story.
"I guess he came to my house next," He spoke up. "He showed up looking pretty wired." Sensing all eyes on him, Pacey continued. "When I first opened the door he just barged in talking all this nonsense about needing someone to talk to, and asking me whether he was crazy or not." Pacey sighed. "Hey, it was one o'clock in the morning. I just thought he was being Dawson so I settled back on the couch to listen to him ramble just so he could get it off of his chest. Unfortunately, I was too tired and I fell asleep. When I woke up an hour later he was gone and that's when I came over here."
Joey contemplated Pacey's story. If Dawson had been at Pacey's around one o'clock, and he had showed up on her doorstep close to two, then she must have been next on his list of good listeners. She cleared her throat and launched into her own story.
"He must have come to see me after he saw Pacey," she began. Once she knew she'd gotten their attention she continued on.
"I was really annoyed at first. He just barged in and sat in my living room without even asking." She closed her eyes remembering the previous events. "But, when I went to confront him about it I noticed he was really upset." She shook her head in frustration. "I was really going to rip into him for being so rude but the minute he looked at me." She paused to brush away newly forming tears. "The minute I saw his face and the pain in his eyes. I couldn't...I wouldn't..." Her voice broke and she decided to let the building tears flow. "I asked him what was wrong but he wouldn't tell me." She sobbed. "He just put his face in my shoulder and cried. What could I do? I knew he was hurting, but I couldn't stop it."
Pacey put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Where's Dawson now Joey?" he asked.
Joey shook her head timidly. "I don't know." She glanced up at the Learys. "He suddenly got this weird fit of conscience. He told me he couldn't do it to me."
"What Joey? What couldn't he do to you?" Mitch asked.
"I...I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. He just said he couldn't do this to me, got into his truck and drove away."
Mitch Leary arose from the couch and began to pace the room tensely.
"Think Joey, did Dawson say or do anything else before he drove away?" he asked panic creeping into his voice.
"Well," Joey thought back to the sweet warm kiss on her forehead. It was the last thing he'd done. She would never forget the tenderness she saw in his eyes. Could it be that Dawson still loved her?
"Joey!" Pacey's shout penetrated her reverie.
"Hey, where are you?" He asked.
She bent her head slightly embarrassed. "I...I was just thinking about Coach Leary's question, and the answer would have to be...no. Nothing at all." She lied.
"Well, that puts us back at our original question." Pacey replied, frustration written all over his face. "We're right back at our original question. Where is Dawson?"
"I think I can answer that," a familiar voice interrupted.
To be continued...
I know it's kind of an abrupt place to end a chapter but I'm still working out the kinks for the next part and I will have the rest up as soon as possible. That is, assuming you still want me to continue.