By: Diana
The airport was cold after Josephine exited the terminal, forcing her to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering. Beside her, Ricky was having the same problem. "God, Josie," he forced through shivering lips, "Why didn't you warn me you lived on the North Pole?"
Josephine wrapped her coat tighter around her shoulders and pushed past Ricky, glancing at the just-about-controlled chaos that was the airport around Christmas time. "Massachusetts would logically be colder than Jacksonville, Rick."
Ricky nodded and hugged his arms around himself, a teasing glint in his eye "Why did I let you drag me along?"
She dragged her eyes away from the crowd, knowing she had been scanning it for familiar faces, "Stop," she told him distractedly, "I can't even deal with joking around right now, okay?"
Josephine felt the reassuring pressure of Ricky's hand on her shoulder and she placed her own over it, suddenly welcoming his comforting presence. "Thanks for forcing me, Rick," her voice was a whisper.
His own tone betrayed the lightheartedness of the reply, "No problem, Jos."
It was then that she spotted him. Even from behind the sight struck so close to her heart that her hand flew to her throat. He had hardly changed, except maybe he looked a bit older. As he grabbed the handle of his suitcase he turned. And his eyes met hers.
Even with the distance between them, she could see the word 'Joey' form on his lips. That name brought tears to her eyes and a crooked smile to her lips. She hadn't been called Joey by anyone since she left, she hadn't let anyone call her that.
The small handbag she had been allowed to carry on to the plane dropped to the ground as Josephine broke into a run. She heard Ricky's disconnected voice, "Where are you going, Josie?" But he sounded as if he already knew.
He opened his arms to her as she came to him, a surprised smile breaking over his face. Joey half skipped her way, unable to stop the giddy laughter that sprung from her lips. In a moment she was in his arms, enveloped in his tight bear hug. "Oh, Pacey," she whispered softly into his shoulder, "I'm sorry."
****************
Dawson tried to shrug off the impatience that was slowly rooting itself in his mind. Jolie had not stopped pestering him about Joey since they had stepped off the plane. And now that they were en route to his childhood home, her curiosity had reached new, and even more intolerable, heights.
"Show me the window where that ladder was first, Dad. I mean, that was where everything began, you know? God, if that hadn't been there you might never have kissed her in the first place." Jolie's sky-blue eyes sparkled up at him as she slipped her tiny hand into his, her fingers quickly disappearing in the largeness and thickness of his own hand.
He felt his annoyance start to slip a little, but not enough to quell the biting remark that was already on the tip of his tongue, "Hey, Jolie, you know if 'wonderful' Joey and I were still together you wouldn't exist."
Jolie's steps slowed to a stop and she angled her angelic face up to his, consternation wrinkling her nose, "What do you mean?"
Dawson fought the urge to groan aloud. He had forgotten, which he found himself doing too much of the time, just how young Jolie was, and now he was stuck with an inquisitive little girl and an awkward conversation. He knelt grudgingly in front of her, looking down at the cement to avoid staring at her innocent expression. "What I meant was.." Dawson knew his cheeks were crimson, "All I was saying..." He stood when he had completely lost his nerve and looked straight forward, "Forget it. I didn't mean anything."
And even as Jolie shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her father's hand once again, Dawson couldn't stop himself from mumbling, "Chicken."
*********************
As soon as the words had left her lips, Josephine regretted them. She hadn't meant to get into all of that, at least, not so soon. Pacey pulled slightly away from her, peering questioningly into her eyes. His had lost the playful shine. They seemed to be devoid of emotion, save for an immovable coldness that struck the seer straight into the soul. Josephine shivered.
**********************
Pacey could hardly believe the sight before him. Where had the stubborn independent Joey Potter gone? The woman that stood before him was hardly fatter than a piece of thread and she trembled in his arms as if she would never again be warm. The thick brown hair no longer made Pacey's fingers itch to run through it. The strands were stringy and shiny at the roots, revealing that she had not showered before her trip.
Again, her words blazed through his mind, 'I'm sorry.' What was she apologizing for? Finally, he spoke, "It's good to see you, Jo," and he was not lying, either. Finding her in such a state as she was awakened feelings of tenderness and caring in Pacey he hadn't felt since Andie. He welcomed them with open arms.
Joey's lower lip trembled as she visibly forced the words from her lips, "I, uh, I really needed this, I think. I mean, seeing you and knowing the fact that I'll be seeing everyone else soon."
Pacey felt awkward. Joey was no longer the spunky, sly girl she used to be. Instead she was frail and vulnerable, a type of person Pacey rarely came across in his world of cutthroat business tycoons and he had no idea how to handle her.
He swallowed, "Yeah. Me too," was his lame answer.
Joey sensed his hesitation and moved away from his grasp, running a hand through her dirty hair and re-tucking her giant T-shirt into her baggy sweatpants.
Out of the corner of his eye, Pacey noticed a man slowly walking toward him. He was hispanic, short and stout, with friendly brown eyes and a contagious smile, which he flashed at Pacey as he neared.
But, instead of addressing him, he turned to Joey, "Josie baby, you gonna introduce me to your friend?" Pacey watched as Joey grabbed the man's hand but said nothing. He also found it strange and unsettling to hear her being called Josie. It didn't fit her. At least, not the person he had known.
The man turned and held a hand out to Pacey as his friendly grin spread across his lips, "I'm Ricky. You must be Dawson. Or no.. no you're Pacey."
Pacey took Ricky's hand, "Got it in two tries, not too shabby." He grabbed the handle of his suitcase once more as he felt his old self start to awaken from its unshakable slumber, "Joey still can't find anything else to talk about but us Capeside men, huh? She's always been obsessed," he felt his old Cheshire cat grin reach his eyes and marveled at the occurrence.
Ricky laughed good-naturedly, but Joey's smile hardly cracked her lips. She stood rooted to her spot, staring fixedly at her sandals. Ricky cleared his throat, obviously feeling responsible for Joey's unease. Luckily, he found an alternate topic, "I saw you in People. Pretty impressive."
Pacey wrinkled his nose and waved Ricky away, "Don't believe anything you read. I'm just as slobby and pathetic as anyone else." Pacey said this, knowing full well if he were anywhere else he'd answer with an ungracious 'thank you' and a laconic excuse to leave. His sarcastic reply was rewarded with a laugh from Ricky and a genuine smile from Joey. He found that becoming the old Pacey was a role that was easier to slip into than he had ever thought.
He hauled his suitcase over his shoulder and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a crisp white card, holding it out to Joey, "Take this, Jo. It's got my cell number on it. Call me when you're settled." His voice lowered as he grabbed Joey's chin and forced her to look at him, "We need to talk."
Joey nodded and looked down, but not before Pacey saw the tears begin to glint in her eyes. Pacey dropped his hand, disgusted. Joey was as helpless and fearful as a two year old.
He turned to Ricky and shook his hand a second time, "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other. It was nice to meet you."
Ricky nodded, "Same here."
With one last wave, Pacey began the long walk to the front of the airport, where he hoped the cab he had called ahead for was waiting. But he hadn't walked far when Joey's distressed cry rang through the air, "Pacey, wait!" she called, "I need to know if you forgive me."
**********************
As Dawson all but fell into the familiar white wicker couch, Jolie ran around to the side of the house, giggling and pointing to the spot where the ladder had been, taken down many years before due to rust and aging.
"This is it, right? Wow, I can't believe I'm actually standing here. Can you get me a ladder, too, Dad? Maybe it'll catch me a boyfriend."
"Not if I can help it," Dawson muttered automatically, still staring at the porch and the shutters and everything else that had been imprinted in his brain. He was half shocked at how much seeing the house was affecting him. He had expected maybe an involuntary smile or a shortness of breath. But this feeling of not being able to breath at all was scaring him.
The minute he had walked up the path to his house, gazing over at Jen's old residence, he had been bombarded with memories, so many he had had to stumble over to the wicker furniture and sit down for fear of fainting. He remembered, a smile brightening his features, the day of Alex's birth, when Joey had ventured out to these same chairs, wiping tears as if Dawson did not already know she had been crying. Those had been the innocent times, before either of them knew much about manipulation and heartbreak. Joey had talked the talk back then, but had yet to experience the feelings behind her biting remarks. Had yet to 'find' herself. The thought of that conversation still made Dawson cringe and he began to chew on the ragged nail of his thumb, a nervous habit he had picked up during Nicole's pregnancy.
Jolie's voice, sounding distant and alien to Dawson's ears, called out to him, "Are you okay, Dad?" Only then did he notice her sweet face, wide-eyed and worried, hovering in front of his, "You look kinda gray."
It took him a minute, but Dawson was able to shake himself from the dark trenches of his past and stand, taking his daughter's hand and smiling down at her, "Nothing's wrong, Jolie Bean. I'm just glad to be back."
Jolie shook her little head, the blond ponytail bouncing, "Fine, then why are you calling me Jolie Bean? You never do anymore unless you're 'really' upset," she retracted her hand and flounced ahead of her father, leaving Dawson to stare at her retreating figure with amusement. And also to wonder how she knew him so well.
Jolie stopped and turned on her heel, looking at her father with steely eyes, "Besides," she continued as if she had never stopped talking, "did you really expect to fool me with a lame line like that?"
Dawson laughed.
***********************
"There he is," Jen, arms rested over her bulging stomach, said. Her tone was grim, but Jack could sense the fear that lay just below. And she had a right to be scared.
Jack wrinkled his forehead, making the lines that had already marred it more pronounced, it wasn't as if he would do anything. He was past that. But Dawson was a different story.
The moment when Dawson had walked in on himself and Joey, entangled in a drunken embrace, or drunken mistake as Jack crudely called it, was one that had been emblazoned on his mind ever since. It hadn't been passionate rage, or heart-wrenching hurt on Dawson's face. Instead, it was a look of cool indifference, as if he knew neither Jack nor Joey. He had treated it as though he had mistakenly walked in on an unfamiliar couple, the sort of thing that happened any number of times at a party such as that had been. He had said, his voice even, void of the slightest tremble, "Oh, excuse me," and walked from the room, closing the door softly behind him.
And past that day on until the present date, Dawson had continued to treat the two as if they had never met. He cut them completely out of his life. Joey, the love of his life, never again climbed the rickety ladder and through the billowing curtains. Dawson put an end to his and Jack's meetings, did not turn to him for advice any longer. And he couldn't have done anything that would've hurt them more.
Currently, Jack and Jen were standing, much the same way as Dawson, in front of their old childhood home where they had found friendship, but more than that, they had found the love that had carried them through anything life had thrown at them. And considering Andie, life had thrown far more than any normal person could catch.
Jen shivered, not from the cold Massachusetts night air, but from being transported back to the awful times before she and Jack fled to Maine. They had stayed as long as they could bear the pain that weighed so heavily on their chests.
Jack's strong, steady hand on her arm comforted her slightly. At least enough to turn grateful eyes on her husband and lay her head on his shoulder, "I can't believe we're back."
Jack ran a preoccupied hand through Jen's long golden locks, he himself also remembering their last days in Capeside, "Should we go in or bear the inevitable meeting with Dawson?" His voice was faraway, as if he cared neither way.
Jen looked over at Dawson, holding the hand of a tiny girl, looking no older than five or six, and realized in wonderment that she must be his daughter. Jen wondered if the girl possessed his oblivious charm or his driving determination that had attracted Jen for those long years. She saw, even at their distance, the striking physical resemblance between them. Jen smiled, knowing in her heart that his daughter had to be a female version of himself.
And the longing to justify the wish overcame the fear of facing him, "Sooner is better than later, right?"
Jack looked to Jen, his feeling of opposition parading openly across his face, "If you're sure," he said warily.
*************************
Dawson stiffened as soon as he had heard her call his name. He had never forgotten the sound of anyone's voice, but hearing Jen's made his blood run cold, because he knew Jack would be standing by her side.
Dawson didn't know why he held on to the stubborn grudge. If anything, he was heavily indebted to Jack. If he hadn't done with Joey what he did, Jolie wouldn't exist. Dawson felt insufferable grief at just thinking of her not being always there, knowing exactly how he was feeling and what he needed. Jolie had become his best friend.
But he guessed it was the sting of losing her, she who he believed for so long to be the love of his life. For as far as Dawson knew, Joey was her same witty intolerable self. The same girl who hid her insecurity and shortcomings just under the surface, unconsciously letting them crack through at unguarded places.
Jen had reached his side and he turned, an unexpected smile crossing his lips, "Jen," the single word was packed full of emotion Dawson hadn't known he felt. Before he could have second thoughts, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth, "I've missed you," he stated simply.
She looked the same, except for letting her hair grow long again and... All of a sudden Dawson jerked back, actually looking at Jen for the first time, "You're pregnant."
The laugh that had once been so familiar to him erupted from her, "Still oblivious as ever, aren't you?"
He smiled sheepishly and was about to reply, except for Jolie tugging on the end of his shirt. He had forgotten Jolie.
He beamed proudly down at her, then back at Jen, "Well, congratulations, Jen," he tugged Jolie to his side and rumpled her hair affectionately, "Let me introduce you to my pride and joy. This is my daughter," Jen laughed at how Dawson's voice swelled at the last word, "Jolie."
Jen bent over and smiled into the girl's dancing blue eyes. She certainly was a carbon copy of her father, "Hello, Jolie."
Jolie smiled impishly and tugged the hair band from her hair, the silky waves falling around her small face, "Sorry 'bout my hair. Dad always does that when he's showing me off to people."
Jen's smile widened, charmed by the little girl as most people who crossed her path were. It was then that Jack appeared at her side.
Jen's smile dropped into a worried frown and she looked to Dawson, noticing how his carefree manner had disappeared and he seemed to withdraw inside himself. Jolie noticed as well, because Jen witnessed how she slipped her hand in his, saw the confused expression on her face.
Jack grabbed Jen's hand and she felt his nervous squeeze, "Hello, Dawson," he said evenly.
"Jack," Dawson's voice was icy and he let go of his daughter's hand, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jack attempted a feeble smile, "Still pretending I don't exist?"
Dawson raised his eyebrows and shrugged coldly, "Old grudges die hard, I guess."
Jack nodded awkwardly, "Yeah."
After a tortured silence, Dawson burst out with, "I mean, weren't you supposed to be gay?"
Jack laughed in spite of the situation and felt his cheeks burn crimson, "I like to blame that on teenage indecision. I was, uh, confused back then."
Dawson nodded, "Obviously."
There was another pause, this one thoughtful. Jolie broke it when she began to giggle.
At first she attempted to keep them quiet, but soon it became beyond her control and she bent over in a fit of laughter.
"Jolie!" Dawson snapped, embarrassed. He looked up at Jack and Jen, trying to decide how to excuse her, but found them fighting a losing battle with laughter as well.
After another minute, the four of them were holding each other up, grabbing futilely at the pain in their sides, all the while laughing their relieved and giddy laughter.
********************
"Look, Pacey," Andie's bright eyes were sparkling even brighter tonight, her smile was wider than he had ever seen it. She had something in her arms. Something Pacey could tell they were both extremely happy over. He was standing so far away, though. From the distance, the thing in Andie's arms appeared to be a blanket, but he wanted to be closer to be sure.
Pacey ran eagerly over to her, peering anxiously at the blanket. But as soon as he was near enough to get a good look at it, Andie's face fell and the blanket vanished from her arms.
The sky darkened and she looked up at Pacey, her eyes filling with tears, "It's too late, Pacey." She began to fade into nothingness, "It's too late..."
Pacey reached out for her, but she too had vanished, "Stop!" He yelled into the blackness, "Come back!"
But she was gone.
Pacey shot up in bed, drenched with sweat and shivering like a sewer rat. He rubbed his eyes and stood up. As he began to adjust to the dark, he stopped in his tracks and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Where was he? Gone was his king-sized silk-sheeted bed and his marble desk. The huge bay window was nowhere to be found and he could not hear the normal creakings of his house. Fear made goose-bumps stand out on his arms.
It was only when he saw the sign of the hotel he was staying at that he relaxed. He was in Capeside, a place where he should feel completely comfortable. Strangely enough, he felt anything but.
His dream had been different that night. What was Andie showing him? He sat on the bed and clenched his fists to keep them from trembling. For the first time since Andie's demise, Pacey was positive there was more to the story than even he knew.
He walked to his suitcase, laying open on the dresser, and pulled out a sweatshirt and jeans. He needed some air.
Puleaze send feedback! I'd love it! MyStory12@aol.com