A/N: In this chapter, there WILL be swearing. Brad and Jake can't have this conversation without swearing and it be in character all at the same time. They're teenage boys with plenty of frustration and anger—for obvious reasons—and they're going to curse. Some people also mentioned that Suze doesn't smoke, and they're right. But she did smoke her one and only cigarette at her mom's wedding to Andy. It's mentioned in the first book and is one of the reasons that Jake originally thought she was in a gang. The leather jacket she was wearing over her bridesmaid dress didn't help either.

The next afternoon I was in the parking lot of the Mission Academy, waiting for Brad.

As people started coming out of the doors, Adam and Cee Cee walked up to me. "Jake, what are you doing here? Last time I checked, you graduated last year," Adam said.

"I'm waiting for Brad," I explained.

Cee Cee's eyes widened in approval. "Taking my advice, I see," she commented.

I shrugged. "What can I say? It was good advice." I finally saw Brad leaning against a wall, talking to Kelly Prescott and Debbie Mancuso. "Excuse me," I said quickly, and started walking towards him.

Brad spotted me, and his eyes widened. "What are you doing here?" he asked, obviously surprised.

"Waiting for you," I said shortly. "Let's go."

"Go where?" he demanded. "I've already got plans, anyway—"

"They're cancelled," I told him and grabbed his shirt. "You're coming with me to the hospital."

Brad jerked out of my grasp. "Dude, get your hands off me."

I turned and glared at him. "You are coming with me, dude."

Brad raised an eyebrow. "And what if I don't want to go with you?"

At this point, I noticed dimly that people were starting to watch us. But this point, I really didn't care. I stared at him for a long moment, then finally asked, "Brad, just what the fuck is wrong with you? When did you turn into such an asshole?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me," I said angrily. "Suze is in the damn hospital, you idiot! She's in a fucking coma and you're acting like nothing happened! Now, I don't know what your damn problem is, but get over it already. Now let's go."

He just stared at me, and for one second, I thought I saw fear in his eyes. "I'm not going," he said, his voice strained. "I won't go. I can't go."

Incredulously, I asked, "You can't? What, because of some—some stupid plans you made with your buddies? For the last time, cancel the damn plans and let in the freaking car, because you are going to the hospital."

"I told you, I can't go!" Brad yelled at me.

"Why not?!" I demanded.

"I'm not you, okay?" Brad said, his voice starting to shake. "I just can't—maybe you can sit there in that hospital room, holding her hand and waiting for her to wake up. I can't. Is—is holding her hand supposed to make a difference? Is that the miracle that's going to cure her from whatever's wrong?" Brad's eyes were glassy as he looked at me. "I went to the hospital every day for Mom, and guess what, Jake? It didn't do a damn bit of good."

"It's not the same," I said hoarsely.

"The hell it isn't!" he roared, glaring at me. "It's exactly the same, with those fuckin' doctors saying they can't do a damn thing to help—" His voice broke.

I just looked at him, not knowing what to say. There was nothing to say.

He composed himself and looked at me, his eyes hard. "I'm not you," he repeated. "You were always tougher than I was."

"Brad..." I trailed off.

He shook his head. "I have to get out of here," he muttered and walked off.

For the first time, I became aware of everyone's eyes on me. There was complete silence as I unsteadily walked to a bench and sat down, putting my face in my hands.

"I went to the hospital every day for Mom, and guess what, Jake? It didn't do a damn bit of good."

Someone was standing next to me. "Jake." I looked up to see Father Dominic looking down on me kindly. "Why don't we go to my office?" he suggested, laying a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded. "Okay." I stood up and let him lead the way.

~*~

"I can't really imagine what your family is going through," Father Dominic said as he poured a cup of tea.

"If you were listening to me and Brad out there, you've got a pretty good idea," I said glumly.

He handed a cup of tea to me and I looked at it dubiously.

"Do you mind if I lace this with arsenic?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, as suicide is considered a mortal sin by the Church, I'm afraid I would have to object."

I snorted. "Too bad," I muttered.

"You're not alone in this, you know," he told me.

"Feels like it, sometimes," I said quietly, staring at the carpet.

"May I ask how the rest of your family is doing?" Father Dominic asked.

"Let's see. Mom spends all her time at the hospital, Dad just wanders around the house like he's lost, David barely says anything to anyone, and Brad's in total denial. So, to answer your question, we're not doing too well right now."

"You didn't mention how you were doing," he commented.

"My sister's in a coma that she might never come out of and my family's falling apart. How do you think I'm doing?" I asked bitterly.

"You don't know that she couldn't come out of the coma."

"Don't I? No one's able to help her. How is she supposed to wake up?"

"There are people trying to help her," Father Dominic said quietly.

I snorted at that. "Who? The doctors? They don't have a clue. And if you're talking about God, He doesn't seem to be paying too much attention right now."

"God is always helping us," Father Dominic said quietly. "And you aren't alone in this. Remember that."

I looked at him for a moment, then sighed and looked down at the floor. "I'd better be going," I muttered, standing up.

Father Dominic looked disappointed. "All right."

At the door, I turned and said. "Uh…thanks. For the…tea and…everything."

He nodded. "You're welcome. And Jake…she could still come out of the coma."

I left without replying.

~*~

When I finally got to the beach, Brad was sitting on the sand, staring at the surf. I stood there for a moment, looking at him and the cloudy sky and the sea. Taking a deep breath, I walked over and plopped down next to him.

He didn't look at me. "We used to have picnics down here when we were little, remember?"

I smiled at the memory. "Yeah, Mom would joke about having found the perfect guy who could fix anything and cooked like Julia Child."

"You think Dave remembers this place?"

I shook my head regretfully. "Nah. He was too little. The last time we were here he was, what, nine months old?"

Brad stated what was already on both our minds. "And by the time he was old enough to remember, she was already in the coma."

For a moment, there was no sound but the waves crashing against the sand.

"He never cried," Brad said softly.

"Who didn't cry?"

"Dad," Brad said, finally looking at me. "I never saw him cry after Mom died. Not even at the funeral."

"He did," I told him. "Late at night, when he thought we were all sleeping, I'd lay in my bed and listen to him sobbing in his room."

Brad turned back to look at the ocean.

"I can't do this again," he whispered. "I can't sit there and have the doctors ask us if we want to pull the—" He stopped abruptly, closing his eyes. "I can't do that again."

"We're not there yet. It's only been—" I stopped to think, and with some shock I said, "It's only been four days. This is the fourth day today."

Brad let out a noise of disbelief. "Yeah, well, it feels like forever."

"I know."

"We don't know her." He said it so quietly I nearly missed what he said.

"What?"

"I said we don't know her," Brad said, turning to face me. "We don't, not really. She could die and we'd be burying this stranger. I don't why she does the strange things she does, I don't know why all these weird things keep happening to her, I don't know her. And neither do you." He stared at me, waiting for an answer.

I stared at my shoes, hoping I could come up with something to say. And I did, finally.

"We don't have to know her," I said quietly, staring at the waves. "We don't have to know why the weird things happen to her or why she does the things she does—we don't have to know that. She's our sister. She became our sister the moment Mom and Dad got married, and that's enough. Would I like to know more about her? Definitely. And when all this mess is over, we will get to know her."

"If she survives."

"She will," I said firmly. "Dude, remember that time when that psycho Meducci messed with our car?"

Brad snorted. "You don't exactly forget shit like that, man."

"Yeah, well, we should have died that day, right? But we didn't. And remember when Suze saved Bryce Martinson's life by pushing him out of the way of that falling beam? She could have died—"

"But she didn't," Brad finished for me.

"Exactly. I don't know Suze all that well, but I know that she's got a trick of landing on her feet. She'll get through this."

Brad digested this. After a moment, he asked, "How mad do you think Mom and Dad are at me?"

I smiled. "They'll get over it. I stood up, brushing the sand off my jeans. "Come on, let's go."

Brad stood up, and this time, he didn't ask where.

~*~

It was about 12:30 when I heard a noise coming from Suze's bedroom. I got out of bed and walked over to her room.

Dave was about halfway out of the window when I opened the door.

"David? What the hell are you doing?" I half-whispered. "Get back in here, man!"

He looked guiltily at me. "Jake…um, is there any chance you'd just go back to bed and forget you saw me sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night?"

"Not a chance in hell," I said flatly. "Spill."

He sighed. "I didn't think so. Look, I have to take care of something."

"Take care of it in the morning," I told him. "Now get inside."

David sighed again. "Jake, I have to do something. It's—it's about Suze."

I blinked at him. "What, are you going to the hospital? Dave, dude, visiting hours are over by now."

"No, I'm not going to the hospital—Jake, I'm late as it is. I'm going, but it would be a lot faster if I was in a car."

I stared at him. "You want me to drive? Now?"

He looked impatient. "You can drive me there or not, it's your choice. But either way I'm going."

I stared at him for a long moment. The last time he had asked me to take him somewhere in the middle of the night—Suze had been buried under a ton of rubble that we had to fish her out of.

And now she was in a coma.

I took a breath. "Give me a few minutes to get some clothes on."