Part 4: Losing Grip
Author's Notes: No, your eyes do not deceived you, this is an actual update. Sort of a filler chapter, and very short, but it's an update. I promise another one will come soon, certainly less than 4 months from now. I've just been caught up in new episodes of Smallville and One Tree Hill, and have had writers block in general, so that's why I haven't updated. I'm very sorry. I hope you enjoy this update, and sorry for the shortness.
---
Andie ran a brush through her damp curls one Thursday evening. It had been about two weeks since Doug's death, and things slowly seemed to be calming down. Pacey wasn't his usual self just yet, but she saw the hopeless look slowly leaving his eyes, saw him smiling more often. These were good signs.
Heading downstairs, clad in pajamas, she opened the fridge and pulled out the milk. Pouring herself a glass, she settled herself down in the living room to watch some TV before heading off to bed.
Jack and Joey entered just then, more or less making out. She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat, causing them to break apart.
"Uhh… Hey Andie!" Jack said, flustered. Joey blushed, and Andie grinned.
"I'll just leave you two alone," she said and headed back upstairs. Slipping into bed, she picked up the book she'd just started reading, and opened it to the second chapter.
She became so absorbed in her reading she missed the figure lurking outside her window.
---
Pacey turned another page in the family photo album. A bittersweet smile crossed his face as he looked at a picture of him and Doug, Pacey clad in handcuffs, a plastic gun in Doug's hand.
Ironically, that was how things had turned out, Pacey reflected sadly. Doug was perfect, standing for everything right according to his father.
And Pacey… Pacey was the loser headed for trouble no matter what he said or did.
He turned another page, settling on a picture of himself, Doug, and Gretchen, the day before she started her senior year of high school. She had her arm around Pacey's shoulders, and Doug had his arm around her. Pacey was grinning widely, proudly holding his brother's proudly earned police badge in his hand for the camera to see.
Page after page of Witter family pictures stared back at him, until Pacey reached a part of the book he'd never seen before and didn't remember being in any of the pictures. Just before he was about to close the book, a picture caught his eye and he froze.
It was of a boy, who couldn't be more than about ten, holding a newborn baby. Pacey wasn't sure, but the boy looked a lot like Doug. He squinted at the child in his smiling brother's arms, trying to figure out who it was…
And then it hit him.
It was Pacey himself.
It was as though all his pain came back to hit him. Doug and him had been closer when he was younger he knew, but the look on his brother's face… The joy, the wonderment, the love…
The love for him… Just made him miss Doug all the more.
He wanted to cry, but was unable. There were no tears left; they had been spent that first week, either while he'd been alone or with Andie, and on the day of his brother's funeral, Jen Lindly.
He pushed the book away from him, not wanting to see his brother's face anymore, but the image nevertheless burned into his mind.
Leaping to his feet he grabbed the book and shoved it back under his bed, where all of Doug's belongings were kept. He ran from the room, seeking fresh air and escape.
But his house provided neither of these. He could hear his father in the kitchen, yelling at someone over the phone. He had no idea where his mother was… she had drawn in on herself, distancing herself from almost everyone in their family.
Pacey slipped quietly out the front door, breathing deeply. It had rained earlier in the day, and the air still held the remnants of it. It smelled fresh and felt clean and purifying on his face.
He wished it would purify his soul.
He hadn't meant to walk to the McPhee's, but had. The rain started up again, harder than it had been earlier that evening. He stood near the house, straining his eyes for a glimpse of her, of his savior.
But he got none. Her room was dark save for a small light, curtains obscuring any further view of her room.
The rain was like ice, but it was nothing to his inner turmoil.
He wanted to tell someone what he had seen, he needed release.
But it wouldn't come.
It would never come.
He didn't know how long he stood out there; the rain was lost to him. He didn't feel the wind on his back, didn't feel the water soaking his skin.
Finally, shear exhaustion drew him home. Sleep came but it brought no peace.
Nothing could ever give him peace.
His life was agony.
Author's Notes: No, your eyes do not deceived you, this is an actual update. Sort of a filler chapter, and very short, but it's an update. I promise another one will come soon, certainly less than 4 months from now. I've just been caught up in new episodes of Smallville and One Tree Hill, and have had writers block in general, so that's why I haven't updated. I'm very sorry. I hope you enjoy this update, and sorry for the shortness.
---
Andie ran a brush through her damp curls one Thursday evening. It had been about two weeks since Doug's death, and things slowly seemed to be calming down. Pacey wasn't his usual self just yet, but she saw the hopeless look slowly leaving his eyes, saw him smiling more often. These were good signs.
Heading downstairs, clad in pajamas, she opened the fridge and pulled out the milk. Pouring herself a glass, she settled herself down in the living room to watch some TV before heading off to bed.
Jack and Joey entered just then, more or less making out. She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat, causing them to break apart.
"Uhh… Hey Andie!" Jack said, flustered. Joey blushed, and Andie grinned.
"I'll just leave you two alone," she said and headed back upstairs. Slipping into bed, she picked up the book she'd just started reading, and opened it to the second chapter.
She became so absorbed in her reading she missed the figure lurking outside her window.
---
Pacey turned another page in the family photo album. A bittersweet smile crossed his face as he looked at a picture of him and Doug, Pacey clad in handcuffs, a plastic gun in Doug's hand.
Ironically, that was how things had turned out, Pacey reflected sadly. Doug was perfect, standing for everything right according to his father.
And Pacey… Pacey was the loser headed for trouble no matter what he said or did.
He turned another page, settling on a picture of himself, Doug, and Gretchen, the day before she started her senior year of high school. She had her arm around Pacey's shoulders, and Doug had his arm around her. Pacey was grinning widely, proudly holding his brother's proudly earned police badge in his hand for the camera to see.
Page after page of Witter family pictures stared back at him, until Pacey reached a part of the book he'd never seen before and didn't remember being in any of the pictures. Just before he was about to close the book, a picture caught his eye and he froze.
It was of a boy, who couldn't be more than about ten, holding a newborn baby. Pacey wasn't sure, but the boy looked a lot like Doug. He squinted at the child in his smiling brother's arms, trying to figure out who it was…
And then it hit him.
It was Pacey himself.
It was as though all his pain came back to hit him. Doug and him had been closer when he was younger he knew, but the look on his brother's face… The joy, the wonderment, the love…
The love for him… Just made him miss Doug all the more.
He wanted to cry, but was unable. There were no tears left; they had been spent that first week, either while he'd been alone or with Andie, and on the day of his brother's funeral, Jen Lindly.
He pushed the book away from him, not wanting to see his brother's face anymore, but the image nevertheless burned into his mind.
Leaping to his feet he grabbed the book and shoved it back under his bed, where all of Doug's belongings were kept. He ran from the room, seeking fresh air and escape.
But his house provided neither of these. He could hear his father in the kitchen, yelling at someone over the phone. He had no idea where his mother was… she had drawn in on herself, distancing herself from almost everyone in their family.
Pacey slipped quietly out the front door, breathing deeply. It had rained earlier in the day, and the air still held the remnants of it. It smelled fresh and felt clean and purifying on his face.
He wished it would purify his soul.
He hadn't meant to walk to the McPhee's, but had. The rain started up again, harder than it had been earlier that evening. He stood near the house, straining his eyes for a glimpse of her, of his savior.
But he got none. Her room was dark save for a small light, curtains obscuring any further view of her room.
The rain was like ice, but it was nothing to his inner turmoil.
He wanted to tell someone what he had seen, he needed release.
But it wouldn't come.
It would never come.
He didn't know how long he stood out there; the rain was lost to him. He didn't feel the wind on his back, didn't feel the water soaking his skin.
Finally, shear exhaustion drew him home. Sleep came but it brought no peace.
Nothing could ever give him peace.
His life was agony.