A/N: Finally, chapter 4. I had a great amount of difficulty writing this chapter. I had a writer's block for the longest amount of time. Alright...dinner at Dettwielers'.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, you guys rock.

Here it is, enjoy.

Chapter 4: We Were Once Friends?

TJ stood upstairs beside Spinelli staring at the painted white door in front of them, their bags clutched in their hands.

"I haven't been in this room for..."

"I know, Teej. I wonder if your mom's cleaned it since then." TJ glanced at her grinning. He hesitantly stretched his hand forward, opening the door.

It seemed almost like opening a thousand memories. The room was the way TJ had left it, nothing moved, nothing changed. It appeared that his mom probably had come in every once in awhile to dust, but that was about it. Posters still clung to the walls, books and old homework assignments never finished were still scattered about, and a faithful red cap hung in loneliness on the backside of TJ's desk chair. Spinelli walked in, leaving the reverent TJ behind and dropping the bags she held on the floor, which was surprisingly clean. She looked the place up and down, walking around and touching ancient action figures, a stack of comic books, and an old photo of her and him in a plastic frame on his bedside dresser.

"This was before I cut my hair down, again," she stated, picking up the photo and running a finger along the glass-covered image. She'd grown her hair out long in middle school, but cut it back down to her shoulders when she decided it was too unmanageable at that length. She noticed another picture on the dresser as well, a class picture from fifth grade. She placed the picture of her and TJ down and picked that one up, frowning at it.

TJ joined Spinelli then, placing his load on the ground as well and glancing over her shoulder. There they all stood, still friends, though not as close as they had been. Vince and Gretchen standing around TJ and Spinelli, Gus and Mikey beside them. Around all of them stood the Ashleys, Dave and Sam, Randall, Butch, Francis, and Menlo, and other children TJ couldn't remember the names of. They had been their classmates that year...that was the year that everything changed. Everyone looked so happy then. TJ gently took the photo from Spinelli, he stared at it for only a moment longer before opening the dresser drawer, throwing it in and slamming the drawer shut.

They both turned away from it, facing the bags scattered on the ground.

"We should start unpacking," Spinelli sighed, moving forward and bending to open a bag. They went about their business in silence, shoving clothes in drawers that had been emptied when TJ left to Stanford. "Your mom really hates me," Spinelli finally said, breaking the silence.

"She doesn't hate you," TJ argued, "She's just...she loves you like a daughter."

"She'd love me more if I was Gretchen," Spinelli spat, glowering up at him, "Gretchen, TJ?"

"My mom said it, not me," TJ replied, "And I mean...it was Gretchen...I mean...well...maybe for a short...brief...small period of time in the fourth grade I...ow!" TJ frowned at Spinelli who was once again glaring at him. The Señor Fusion action figure that she'd chosen to throw at him was lying on the ground beside his feet.

"Gretchen?"

"Oh, come on, Spinelli. That was kids' stuff. Back when hugging, kissing, making-out, marriage...sex, weren't in our vocabulary," TJ said, making his way over to her and wrapping his arms about her waist. "I'm with you. I'm in love with you." Spinelli sighed.

"Fine...just make sure no kids' stuff happens when she's here tonight," Spinelli spat.

"Really don't have to worry about that. If I remember correctly, we hate each other," TJ answered, returning to emptying his luggage.

"Teej...do you ever think about it? I mean, what happened all those years ago," Spinelli asked.

"Spin..."

"I know...I know...we're not supposed to talk about it. But that doesn't mean I don't think about it...that I don't wonder...or worry," Spinelli slid onto the bed staring at the dresser drawer. "I'd almost convinced myself that I could forget what all of them looked like. Our classmates...we knew all of them our entire lives almost." Spinelli raised her eyes to meet his, "TJ...I think I saw Mikey while we were driving here"

"What? Spinelli, why didn't you say anything?" TJ demanded, staring at her.

"I wasn't sure if it was him...but now...seeing that picture...I know it was him," Spinelli replied.

"So, Mikey's in town too. That doesn't mean anything. That's only three."

"Five, Teej, you forgot to count us...and seven if you count Ashley Q. and Menlo," Spinelli reminded him.

"Just shut up about it, Spinelli," TJ snapped, "First of all, you don't even know if Ashley Q. and Menlo still live here, at least, not for certain. Second, you can't be absolutely positive that you saw Mikey, you haven't seen him in what, ten years? Third, the fact that Gretchen and Vince are here the same time we are is just pure coincidence. My dad said Vince visits his parents every weekend, and who the hell knows why Gretchen is here, but her father lives here. We all still have connections here. Us all being here at the same time was bound to happen."

"You're right, Teej, we do all have, at least, one connection here," Spinelli hissed, "And even if you ignore it, it's still there. It's still there at Third Street Elementary...still buried in that damned playground! And no matter what you say, it's still the real reason that we left! It's still the real reason that...that we've always been so afraid to come back here. Besides, Teej...you're the one who brought this up. Even if you didn't mean too. You said it yourself, it's an odd coincidence."

"I know, but you're talking about something that's been done and over with for nearly fifteen years," TJ cried. There came a slight knock at the doorway.

"TJ? Ashley?" Mrs. Dettwieler's voice floated into the room. She stepped in smiling and holding a plate. "I made a sandwich. You said you wanted lunch, so I figured that you were hungry."

"Thanks, Mrs. Dettwieler," Spinelli said, almost relieved. She took half of the sandwich, and glanced at TJ to judge his reaction. He shrugged, running his hand through his hair; a nervous habit he'd picked up in middle school.

"Thank you, mom," he mumbled.

"I was thinking that maybe you two would like to take a drive around town, see the old neighborhood. We've still got a long time until dinner," Mrs. Dettwieler said, handing her son the plate with the other sandwich half. "I was going to head to the grocery store, and your father has some errands to run. So otherwise, you'd be left here alone."

"We'll think about it, mom," TJ answered.

"Alright, but whatever you decide, be sure to get home by 5:30. I'm starting dinner then, I thought I'd use the chance to show Ashley how to make a good meal," Mrs. Dettwieler said leaving the room, shutting the door all but a crack behind her, and making her way downstairs.

"Your mom hates me."

0000

TJ and Spinelli decided to stay home instead of going out. They had the house to themselves, which they imagined would be a rare event in the next several days, so they took advantage of it. TJ's mother was only gone about two hours, and when she discovered they were still home she dragged Spinelli into the kitchen to start on the dessert, leaving TJ to watch television alone in the other room. It was near five when Mr. Dettwieler arrived home and joined TJ on the couch, changing the station to a basketball game noting that Vince was in it. He talked about how Vince graduated from high school and went straight to the NBA. When Spinelli peeked in on them, TJ looked as though he was considering bashing his brains in with the remote control.

"Tell me something, Ashley," Mrs. Dettwieler said and Spinelli turned her attention to TJ's mother. "You're the woman in TJ's life, does he seem happy to you?"

"Happy enough, yeah," Spinelli replied, returning to shucking corn. Spinelli wasn't very fond of cooking, and it didn't help that Mrs. Dettwieler immediately judged every action Spinelli took in the kitchen and directly connected it to how well TJ was taken care of back in New York.

"Try not to take the corn with the leaves," Mrs. Dettwieler advised, "What does happy enough mean, anyways?"

"That he's as happy as he should be," Spinelli answered, pausing with the corn and frowning at the small mess she'd made accidentally squashing some of the kernels. Did Mrs. Dettwieler miss anything?

"Does he ever mention to you about coming home...?" Mrs. Dettwieler asked. Spinelli looked up at her older companion, raising an eyebrow.

"You think I'm the reason Teej doesn't come back to visit?" Spinelli questioned.

"What? No, dear, why ever would you suggest that?" Mrs. Dettwieler chuckled fretfully, checking on the chicken that was cooking in the oven.

"I guess I'm just paranoid," Spinelli remarked coldly, and then turning to the corn she said, "I'm not very good at this. Maybe I should set the table."

"Alright," was the reply, "You know where the dishes are."

0000

Somewhere around six o'clock, Spinelli and TJ headed upstairs to change for dinner, and it was nearly 6:30, with no show from Spinelli but TJ having returned to the couch nicely clothed, that a soft knock came from the door. Mrs. Dettwieler yelled to her husband to answer it, which he then directed TJ to do, what with him being completely consumed with the game. TJ pulled himself up making his way to the door and frowning at the silhouettes he saw through the window on the porch. Maybe if he didn't answer they would think no one was home and leave. They knocked again, sharper this time. TJ sighed, grasped the knob, and flung the door open.

The LaSalles stood before TJ, two familiar faces aged by time. Behind them stood a tall young man, thin and lined with firm muscles, and a young scowling face, unforgettable in TJ's mind.

"Mister and Missus LaSalle," TJ greeted, shaking Mr. LaSalle's hand and accepting a small peck on the cheek from Mrs. LaSalle. "Vince," TJ said stiffly and received a cold nod from the towering youth.

Before he could close the door completely, TJ saw another car pull up in front of their house and a lithe bespectacled young woman step out from the passenger side and turn to glare at the Dettwieler residence. She looked like she would be quite pretty if she smiled. A man, Mr. Grundler, stepped out of the driver's seat and moved to the pretty young woman's side, who was obviously Gretchen. He whispered something to her as they made their way up the paved path to the Dettwieler's door, where TJ stood frowning at them. Mr. Grundler seemed happy to see TJ, throwing his arms about him in a light hug before stepping through into the house.

"Theodore," Gretchen stated icily, "I am only here because I would not want to offend your mother by declining her offer. She was always kind to me in the past. I expect that we will be civil towards one another." She all but shoved her way past into the house, leaving TJ at the door unsure what to say.

Spinelli chose that moment to make her way down. TJ had never been happier to see her. She'd tied her hair back, loose strands floating about her face, which she'd lightly brushed with a bit of make-up, a rare sight on her, never having found a fondness for the stuff. She was wearing a red skirt and sweater, and familiar black boots. She looked beautiful as far as TJ was concerned. She stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at the older Gretchen and Vince who gapped up at her.

"Spinelli?" Vince questioned, looking quizzically at the lovely young woman before them. Even Gretchen took her glasses off, cleaned them, replaced them on her nose and stared back up in shock.

"No one said Spinelli was going to be here, too," Gretchen finally spat; turning to leave, though not after shooting Vince a 'keep-your-distance' glare.

"What?" Spinelli demanded angrily of the gapping Vince. He shook his face back into a scowl and followed Gretchen into the kitchen. Spinelli made her way down the stairs to TJ's side.

"You look..." TJ mumbled, "Just...well..."

"You're drooling, Teej," she grinned, and then glanced in the direction Vince and Gretchen left in. "I was kind of hoping they wouldn't show up."

"Looks like they're still not on speaking terms, too," TJ noted, "How do you think they'll take us being together?" Spinelli shrugged.

"Probably better than my parents will."

"Let's keep our minds on this dinner," TJ suggested.

"Why? I can already tell this is going to be a pleasant night," Spinelli drawled sarcastically, taking TJ's hand and leading him into the kitchen after their former friends.

The parents were all laughing when Spinelli and TJ entered the kitchen, though about what they didn't know.

"Why don't you kids go out back and catch up?" Mrs. Dettwieler suggested, "TJ's old tree house is still out there. You kids had so many slumber parties up there."

"Thanks, mom," TJ muttered as they all trekked out back and took stances away from one another. Spinelli slipped the door shut and took a place by TJ's side. They stood, glaring at one another.

"What are you doing back, Grundler?" Spinelli finally demanded.

"If you really must know, I'm conducting research on odd magnetic disturbances in this area," Gretchen answered snidely, "You?"

"Kickboxing tournament."

"Hmph," Vince snorted.

"You find that funny, or something?" Spinelli snapped, clenching her fists, "I do need the practice." TJ grabbed her before she could leap on the much bigger and seemingly stronger young man, even though he figured she probably could take Vince.

"Don't waste your energy, Spin," he told her. This act, of course, received raised eyebrows from their remote companions.

"Figures," Vince muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think you can look at us and have us all figured out? I got news for you, LaSalle, you don't know us that well," Spinelli snarled.

"You've always stuck together. What's there to figure out?" Gretchen chortled maliciously.

"Don't indulge them, Spinelli. They're just trying to get a rise out of you," TJ said to Spinelli, still holding her tightly. She relaxed a bit in his arms.

"This explains a lot," Vince muttered.

"Indeed it does."

Both Gretchen and Vince fell silent, turning their attention away and pretending that the empty air was far more important than the people standing around them.

"This is going well," TJ whispered to Spinelli.

"I'm starting to wish I did go to my parents' house," Spinelli replied and snuggled deeper in TJ's hold, "Is it cold out here, or is it just them?"

"What happened between you two anyways?" Vince asked, eyeing them now with a hint of disdain. Even Gretchen seemed to turn her attention back to TJ and Spinelli.

"Yes, do explain. Did you really forgive each other that easily?" Gretchen demanded, "Or perhaps you were in league the entire time."

"For me some things were too important to give up over some stupid mistake," TJ growled, clutching Spinelli for support. He'd been through all of this already fifteen years past, he wasn't sure he could handle it all again.

"And some things weren't," Vince stated simply.

"I guess you could say that some things weren't worth the fight," TJ confirmed.

"Sheesh, can we just let this go already?" Spinelli finally spoke up again, pulling from TJ and making her way to the door. "It's always the same damn fight with all of you. I'm all for a good fight, but not when it's the same shit."

"You backing down, Ashley?" Gretchen prodded, "Or are you finally going to accept the truth? That you're to blame." Spinelli froze, turning a fiery eye to the lanky woman before her.

"Don't you dare presume that you're better than me...or even above me. You stood there that day, Grundler, and made the same decision we all did. If I'm to blame than so the hell are you," Spinelli screamed and even TJ shrank back a slight. She then promptly opened the door, entered, and slammed it behind her, stomping up to TJ's room.

Gretchen's face quickly became a splotchy pink and tears sprung to her eyes.

"Tell your mother I'm sorry," she muttered to TJ before running from the backyard and away from the Dettwieler house.

"I don't know what I was thinking letting my parents talk me into this," Vince shouted at TJ, "It only reminds me as to why I stopped calling all of you friends. This is your fault. I'm going home." With that said, he too left with hasty and even strides. TJ sighed, sitting on a plastic porch chair and leaning back. The glass door to the backyard slid open and Mrs. Dettwieler stuck a confused face out. TJ could faintly hear the phone ringing behind her.

"TJ? What happened? Where are Gretchen and Vincent? Why did Ashley come storming into the house like that? TJ? TJ!"

"I don't know, mom. I don't know why they all hate each other. I don't know why they all hate me! Can you just leave me alone?" TJ snapped. Mrs. Dettwieler stood there a moment, her mouth swinging open and shut like a trap door.

"Ah...uh...you have a phone call, TJ," Mr. Dettwieler said, sticking his head out next to his wife's, then looking baffled between the two of them, "What's going on?"

0000

"Spinelli? It's me, TJ. Open up."

The light white door opened a crack and TJ could see the raven-haired occupant of the room standing through the small opening, already dressed for bed. Spinelli had wiped the make-up off, but her hair was still tied up. Her cheeks were flushed and her bottom lip trembled slightly.

TJ gently pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked in slowly, shutting the door behind him. It still seemed strange walking into his old room. There was so much emotion tied to that small hallow in the Dettwieler house. It had been his safety, his sanctuary, his prison, his headquarters, his real home, and his make-out place with Spinelli when his parents weren't there, his bat cave, so to speak.

"Are they gone?" she asked, taking a seat on the bed. TJ joined her.

"They left after you did."

"Was your mom mad?"

"No. She was confused is all," TJ explained, he wrapped an arm around Spinelli's shoulders, "That was rough...what you said to Gretchen." Spinelli pushed TJ away.

"Rough? She deserved it," she hissed, "And LaSalle deserved a swift kick in his..."

"Spinelli! Honestly, I'm sick of this," TJ cried, "I sat out there, after you guys left, thinking. We have to stop this before it gets out of hand."

"Newsflash, Teej, its already gotten out of hand. You saw them out there. They hated us...they hated each other," Spinelli argued, jumping off of the bed and crossing the room.

"There's got to be a way to fix this, though," TJ protested, lying down on the bed.

"I don't think I want to try to fix this. The way they've acted towards us ever since it...I just don't think I can be friends with them ever again," Spinelli sighed.

"That's why this is so out of hand, Spinelli. Whenever they push, we push back. Whenever they want to talk, we don't want to...and whenever we want to talk, they don't want to. It's the same with us, Spin," TJ continued.

"You better get downstairs, Teej. If your mom catches you up here after lights out..." Spinelli started.

"Fine," he sighed, rolling off of the bed and giving her a quick goodnight kiss. "Come with me to Kelso's tomorrow."

"Teej..."

"Come on, Spin. I'm not trying to trick you into anything, I just want a milkshake is all," TJ pleaded.

"Alright, alright...we'll go to Kelso's tomorrow. Good night," Spinelli smiled, accepting another kiss from TJ.

"'Night, I love you," he whispered, slipping out the door and shutting it silently behind him.

END A/N: I know what you're all thinking. What the hell is going on? It's all going to be explained soon...I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Some real fun torturous shit is going to happen soon also, we'll be getting into the 'horror' part of this fic. I don't want it to be cheesy, but it's looking like it might be...I'll proabably cry if it is. Oi. I don't think anyone reads these author notes...why do I write them? For myself, that's why.

What else was I going to say...hm...oh, yes. Next time: An explanation as to why everyone hates eachother (I know I said that last time, but I mean it this time. I already have it all planned out!)

Thanks for reading...see you next time. And please, review!