A/N: Gotta hurry and write this...gotta go to work...damn work...um...this is the next chapter. Lot's more talking, a little action. More fighting, of course.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, my dedicated reviewers, TheNextPoliticalDynasty and xXxSarahxXx whom I love so very much, and the first time reviewer weaslypotter, who I would like to extend an extra thanks for her long, kick ass review (I'm flattered you feel so strongly about my fanfic) and for letting me know that my settings were blocking anonymous reviews, which I didn't know. It's changed, so you can reviews logged in or not weaslypotter.

Here's chapter 12 (I can't believe I made it this far...) ENJOY!

Chapter 12: The Day After or A Serious Hangover

The room was blurry, and too bright. That was the first thing TJ noticed, that and the severe headache pounding against his skull. He was lying in a makeshift bed, that much was certain, and he had no idea where the hell he was. He tried to recall the events from the night before, but was drawing a blank. He pulled himself out of the blanket, looking about the room with squinting eyes; thinking maybe there was a way to turn off the light but unfortunately discovering it was the sun beating in through a window, which was a big 'No can do'. He rolled onto his back. His clothes were discarded off the side of the bed. He wasn't dressed. He'd slept with someone the night before, that much was certain. Who was she? He couldn't remember. He tried to picture her face, but he couldn't see it. All he knew was that he slept with someone other than Spinelli. Did they use protection? He felt a groan growing in the pit of his stomach. They most likely hadn't. Unless the girl was using the pill...but then there are the diseases...

TJ sat up, though instantly finding himself burying his head in his hands, nearly blacking out. He'd drunk a lot the night before, and TJ wasn't a drinker. He would have a glass of wine or a bottle of beer every now and then but Spinelli was the partier, not him. He reached for his pants, pulling them on with a great amount of pain and an exhausting struggling. He had to get out of...wherever he was. The woman he'd spent the night with seemed to be nowhere in sight, and TJ didn't think he wanted to see her. It was hard enough having to deal with the fact that he had spent the night with someone other than Spinelli, but to put a face to that person...he didn't think he could deal with it. Besides, what kind of person took a drunken stranger off of the street and slept with him?

There was a door at the other side of the room. TJ grabbed the remainder of his clothing and made his way shakily towards it, the only escape he saw in the room. He could barely stand. How could people like drinking if they had to put up with this afterwards, he wondered. With an unsteady sway and a slow pace he finally reached the door, clutching his head. There was a note attached to the wooden slab. TJ looked at it, feeling something inside of him sink.

"TJ, Please stay here, I'll be back soon," was the message. TJ ripped the note down, stuffing it in his pocket and opening the door, stumbling out while attempting to pull his shirt on over his head. He tried to remember if he had told the stranger his name last night, but couldn't recall doing so. He didn't recall saying much of anything, just doing the deed and passing out afterwards. That meant only one possible thing, whoever he'd spent the night with knew him...but who? And if she knew him, she had to know Spinelli. He looked around the area. It was the park; he recognized it right away. He was at the old boathouse, it hadn't been in use for a long time, but thought nothing of it. Probably just the spot his "partner" last night chose. He started making his way down the street, shielding his eyes from the sun and wishing he'd brought sunglasses. He stopped, his eyes falling on a form sitting at a bench by the lake; a person that TJ knew all too well. That person was watching TJ with dark and intense eyes, and TJ felt his heart sink, knowing what was coming.

"Have a nice night?" came the question, as the figure stood, walking over to TJ, standing in front of him.

"Can we do this later, Joey?" TJ asked, "I mean, I don't feel well right now."

"You sure you don't feel well? Because after the night you've had, I'm sure you'd feel great," Joey snarled. TJ sighed, lowering his eyes. So Joey knew. And he probably saw. "She was a pretty woman," Joey continued, "You been cheating with her on my sister all along."

"No, Joey," TJ sighed, exasperated, "I don't even know who she was. I was drunk, alright, and I'd appreciate if you didn't go running and telling her about this."

"Why shouldn't I? Maybe it'll make her see that you really are a bastard and she'll forget about you."

"Because, Joey, I don't want her to hear it from someone, alright. I'll tell her," TJ argued.

"So you can lie about it? I don't think so," Joey replied.

"You don't get it," TJ shook his head, "You're never going to understand. You think you're the only one who cares about her. I was there, right beside her, while she grew up. We grew up together."

"That's bullshit...it means nothing..."

"It means everything. You and Vitto, weren't always there for her, no matter how much she loved you guys. But me, I was there. You guys didn't have to see her when she was sad, or mad, or embarrassed. You weren't there to face every little trial she went through in her life with her. I was. I'm not saying that it makes me better than you; I'm just saying that at some point, you are going to have to accept that I am in love with your sister. That I always have been. Do I have to spell it out for you? I - LOVE - YOU'RE - SISTER!"

"You love her so much, then why did you break up with her, send her home crying, sleep with some other woman right afterwards," Joey pressed, his hands balling into fists.

"Because Joey, don't you get it? Don't you understand?" TJ shouted, spreading his arms out, "I'm the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world!" He pointed to himself. "I had the love of my life and I blew it! I messed everything up! I pushed her away, I lied to her, I yelled at her, jumped down her throat, I sure as hell didn't treat her like I loved her more than life itself. And then, I saw her kissing Vince, or at least, that's what I thought I saw, but I didn't listen to her. I was too angry, too infuriated, that I broke up with her. So you know what, Joey, I want you to hit me. I want you to beat the crap out of me. Because I sure as hell deserve it."

"You want me to hit you," Joey questioned.

"Well sure. You're sister already did, but the pains starting to wear off," TJ shrugged, "So of course I want you to hit me, Joey. Don't I deserve it? I hurt her..." TJ trailed off, those emotions resurfacing, almost exemplified by what he'd done the night before, "I hurt her...I always hurt her..." Joey raised an eyebrow, loosening his fists. It wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected TJ to cower in fear, to beg for mercy, to ask forgiveness for his sins and crimes against Joey's little sister. But...TJ was begging to be beaten, asking Joey to hit him, wanting the pain that Joey had set out to give him.

"This isn't right..." he muttered.

"You're not gonna hit me, are you?" TJ asked, dismayed.

"I was going to. But you ruined it," Joey snapped, "I really can't hit someone as pathetic as you. I mean, I guess you've already messed yourself up better than I ever could."

"Whatever..." TJ mumbled, making his way past, "I got to go figure out how to tell Spinelli what I did...or if I should just disappear from existence and never see her again. I mean; if I tell her, it'll only hurt her more." He sighed, slumping on the bench, "Maybe I shouldn't have pushed her to tell your guys's parents about us..." he said to himself, "Then I wouldn't have been so disappointed when she didn't and none of this would have ever happened."

Joey shook his head, turning away. "I won't tell my sister about what you did. But if you don't..."

"Thanks..."

"Whatever. Just consider yourself lucky I didn't kill you. She's upset. I guess, I can sort of see why. You've got a lot of history together," Joey shrugged, walking away, "I guess..."

TJ buried his head in his hands. He couldn't stay there, at the park. That woman was coming back and he didn't want to be there when she did. He got up, walking away. Maybe he'd go to Kelso's; Mikey said that everyone was meeting there to discuss the letters. Mikey had decided to stay the night at Kelso's, not knowing what to do, what with Gus gone. Maybe Gus'd show up as though nothing had happened and laugh it off. Maybe Spinelli would show up too, and forgive TJ for everything he'd done and they'd be better, they'd make up. Maybe the whole gang would enjoy a sundae together, like old times, while reminiscing about the past, like they should have been doing all along, not fighting. Maybe hell froze over last night.

-0-0-0-0-

Gretchen tapped the table at Kelso's, lightly strumming her fingers on the wood. Mikey was standing behind the counter talking in the phone. The door opened, and both looked to it as TJ stumbled in, slumped in a chair and slammed his head down on the table.

"Ow..." he groaned.

"TJ..." Mikey began, "Are you alright?"

"I have a serious hangover and Spinelli's brother wouldn't beat the crap out of me," TJ mumbled, "So, no, I'm not alright."

"You wanted Spinelli's brother to beat the crap out of you?" Gretchen asked, stunned at the entrance of her former leader and friend. TJ nodded his head as best he could with it resting on the table. "Why? Whatever purpose could that serve?" Gretchen pressed. TJ sighed.

"It would hurt. I deserve it," TJ explained as though it were obvious, he lifted his head, a red spot growing on his forehead, and looked about the room. "Where's Vince and Spinelli?" Then, mumbling under his breath, "Off making out..."

"I shouldn't be getting in the middle of this but..." Gretchen started.

"Then don't," TJ snapped.

"I feel I should say something, though."

"It's better if you don't."

"But I should..."

"I'm not listening."

"It's important that you know..."

"I don't want to."

"But I..."

"I'm in enough pain as it is."

"Spinelli came to my house last night, TJ!" Gretchen shouted, before he could protest anymore. She blinked her eyes several times, stunned at the raise in her own voice. Then, dropping her tone, she continued, "She looked worse than you do. She'd been crying. I don't think she would choose Vince over you."

"You don't understand, Gretchen," TJ hissed, narrowing his eyes at her, "I can't take her back, even if she does choose me. I'm not good enough for her. I've screwed things up for the last time; I'm not doing it again. I'm not going to let there be another chance for me to hurt her." He lowered his head back on the table, hiding his face in his arms. They were silent.

"Hello," Mikey said in the phone, turning away from the two sitting at the table, "Hi, Menlo? You coming? ...What do you mean no?" Gretchen and TJ perked up, eyeing Mikey on the phone. "It is important, Menlo...no...don't hang..." Mikey looked downcast. He put the phone back on its base and turned to his companions. "He hung up."

"He's not coming?" Gretchen questioned. Mikey nodded.

"He doesn't think the note means anything. He doesn't think it's important," Mikey explained. He joined them at the table, patting TJ on the back, knowing what was tearing at the young man's heart. Gretchen looked between the two, feeling left out from something.

"What's going on?" she inquired, cleaning her glasses carefully and trying not to appear too interested.

"We talked things out," Mikey explained, "What about you and Spinelli?"

"We got in a fight, called one another bitches, and went our separate ways," Gretchen said. TJ shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Spinelli and shrugged Mikey's hand off of him. He didn't deserve to be comforted. He was ashamed of himself as it was, but to accept sympathy when he was the one that was wrong? He couldn't do it. Gretchen replaced her glasses on her face and studied the table, "Is anyone coming."

"No," Mikey told her, sadly, "None of them are coming. They all called." Gretchen nodded.

"They're afraid of the answers," Gretchen concluded as though she'd expected this to happen.

"And what about Gus?" TJ mumbled.

"I can't think of anything to do about Gus..." Gretchen sighed, "We don't even know where to start..." The door to Kelso's swung open and a fiery eyed young woman marched in, her belly protruding out from obvious pregnancy, and her shoulder length brown hair splayed about her face.

"Where is Gus?" the woman demanded.

"Who are you?" TJ and Gretchen questioned in unison.

"Theresa...?" Mikey asked, looking the woman up and down, "Little Theresa LaMaize?"

"It's Theresa Griswold now, Mikey," the woman giggled, losing a bit of her edge. The three companions dropped their jaws.

"Excuse our shock, Theresa, but Gus never informed us that he was married," Gretchen stuttered, staring in disbelief, "Nor that he was expecting...a child?"

"It's a girl, but don't tell Gus, he doesn't want to know yet," Theresa giggled. The three stunned onlookers nodded, still gaping. They could hardly believe that this pretty young woman before them was once the small frail child known as Cornchip Girl. She had developed muscles, was still rather short, and had matured quite splendidly. She was wearing a pretty blue maternity dress, and smiling innocently.

"How did you...I mean, you moved away when you were in the third, or was it fourth grade?" TJ asked. Theresa laughed good-heartedly.

"Oh, how did I meet Gus again? While on a mission for the Peace Corp, he was traveling on a naval ship that I was stationed on. We started talking and didn't realize until after we'd hit it off and he asked me on a date, which led to us finally introducing ourselves formally, who the other was. But it's like he always says, if you're meant to be together, you'll find one another again," Theresa giggled. She accepted a hug from Mikey, who then held her away from him and looked her up and down.

"You look great," he told her.

"I'm not a little girl anymore," she agreed.

"So, Gus never did come home?" Gretchen spoke up bringing them back to the matter at hand.

"No, not last night. I needed him to take me to a doctor's appointment this morning, he's never late and he never misses my appointments. But he never showed up," Theresa shrugged, "I'm worried about him. He's always home by seven at the latest. I sat up all night waiting...he never came. I thought it might have to do with the storm last night, and that he'd show up as soon as it ended...and I waited."

"We were here with him last night during the storm," Gretchen explained, "The power went down so we went to find the back-up generator outside. He disappeared back there. We looked for him, all around the store, but he never showed up." Theresa nodded, all cheerfulness from her face fading into seriousness and fear.

"I want to go back there and look for myself," she said.

"I'll come with you," Mikey suggested, walking her out to the back. Gretchen and TJ sat in silence, Gretchen staring at TJ who in turn was staring at the table.

"I think that Spinelli and you..."

"I think you need to stay out of this, Gretchen," TJ shifted, laying his head down again, "Why do you care all of a sudden anyways?"

"Because you two were once my friends. I can't forget that I cared about you both, it's not that simple," she told him, looking away.

"But it's so simple to forget our friendships," TJ commented. Gretchen sighed.

"I thought you'd be easier to talk to than Spinelli. But you both go to the same topic. Why did our friendship break so easily when it was supposed to be stronger than metal?" Gretchen snarled, "Maybe our friendship wasn't so strong in the first place. Maybe, the foundation was covered in cracks and beneath the weight of Mary Anna's predicament, it shattered completely. Maybe...our friendship was flawed to begin with."

"I don't believe that," TJ argued, "I don't believe that in the least."

"We were too different, all of us, to ever really be friends," Gretchen continued.

"That's what made our friendship so strong," TJ protested, leaping to his feet, then having to grasp the table for support when his head gave way to wooziness, "We were all different, and we all loved each other for those differences."

"They got in the way."

"They made us stronger."

"They tore us apart!"

"They kept us together!" TJ turned away, walking across the floor than turning back again. "I though you were the smartest kid on the playground, and that alone was reason enough for me to want to hang out with you. I would hate to look at my friend and see a mirror image of myself. That's why I liked hanging out with all of you, you were all different and perfect the way you were."

"If you see such perfection in what we were, in who we all were, then why do you hate us? We haven't changed so much, have we?" Gretchen asked, staring him down.

"I don't hate any of you...except maybe Vince right now, but that's because of Spinelli for the most part," TJ sighed, he slumped back in his chair, "I'm just disappointed in all of you. I hate the way you're all acting towards each other. I hate that you turned on one another when you should have stuck beside each other and helped one another through what happened."

The door in the back opened and Mikey and Theresa stepped back into Kelso's. Theresa had tears in her eyes and Mikey wore a frown of concern.

"What did you find?" Gretchen questioned. Theresa held up the broken dark-rimmed frames that always adorned her beloved husband's face, only shards of the lenses remaining, jutting out from the frame. There was blood dried on the glasses as well.

"Gus said that he got this...letter...what's going on?" Theresa demanded, "Where's my husband?"

"Oh man," TJ muttered, "If the letters have anything to do with it...where's Vince?"

"You think he's next?" Mikey asked.

"There's got to be a reason that Gus's letter and Vince's disappeared that night. Where are the rest of the letters?" TJ looked to Gretchen who reached into her pocket and produced...one envelope. She dumped the contents on the tabletop.

"It's Spinelli's letter. The others were right here...I don't understand," she met TJ's eyes, "Do you think that this means that Mikey and I are the next targets?"

"Is someone going to explain this to me, or not?" Theresa asked.

"Something happened fifteen years ago that we were all involved in," TJ explained, turning to her, "And we think that has something to do with these letters and Gus's disappearance."

"I think you better tell me everything, from the beginning. Start, now," Theresa commanded, and they could clearly see the naval officer within her small, pregnant body.

-0-0-0-0-

Vince's eyes fluttered open as he looked about the room he was in. It was a hospital, that much he could tell. He looked around. There was a sleeping form by the window, sitting in a chair. A blonde young woman, hair falling about her face in a mess, sunglasses covering her eyes, designer clothing ruffled. Vince recognized her, but he couldn't remember from where at the moment. He pulled himself up, then immediately slipped back down. His back was covered in a bruise, he felt that already, and his head was pounding. He groaned.

"The doctor said the drugs would hit you hard, you should take it easy," a voice whispered. Vince looked to the young woman, now wide-awake and staring at him, sunglasses pushed up to the top of her head.

"Ashley A.?" Vince questioned.

"It's not Ashley A. anymore," she told him sheepishly, looking pointedly at the wedding ring on her finger.

"Oh," he said, "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you go down, last night. I didn't see who attacked you, whoever it was ran off. I called the ambulance," she explained, "I was walking to my hotel from...well, formerly Ashley Q...her place. It was such a nice night. That's when I saw you...well...I didn't know it was you until I got over there...and...you look good Vince, if you don't count the bruises from the beating you incurred last night."

"Thanks," he muttered, "I mean, for saving me."

"Whatever, it's no big deal...I mean, anyone would have done the same," she shrugged, "I mean, your life's a big deal...I didn't mean it wasn't...um...anyone could have..."

"But not just anyone would have sat here with me all night," he pointed out. She blushed, realizing what she'd done and how it looked.

"I felt like you should have someone waiting when you woke up. They couldn't get a hold of your parents," Ashley A. explained, "The line was always busy."

"I don't doubt they were calling everyone I knew, know, and ever came in contact with trying to hunt me down," Vince chuckled. He looked downcast then. They'd probably called Spinelli's house. Was Spinelli worried about him?

"What's wrong?" Ashley A. asked.

"Nothing, just thinking about some things," Vince shrugged, closing his eyes and sinking deeper into the stiff hospital bed pillow.

"Do you want to talk about it...?" Ashley A. questioned, staring at him with concern.

"You've changed," Vince told her, raising an eyebrow at the behavior she was displaying. Ashley A. giggled slightly, rubbing the back of her head and leaning back in her chair.

"My therapist tells me that I need to work on not hiding how I feel so much. That I need to stop bottling up my emotions and hiding who I really am," Ashley A. explained, "So I try to show concern and interest in everyone I come in contact with. It's really helped me...you know...grow. I do a lot of charity work too. I don't just give anonymous donations anymore, like I used to. I actually go out and help."

"That's good. I like you this way," Vince said. She smiled.

"Thanks. You going to tell me what's wrong?"

"No," Vince sighed, "Because I don't think I can. I don't really know. Man, coach is going to be so mad when he hears about this. I need to be in top shape for the game."

"It's because your old friends are in town. TJ and the rest, isn't it?" Vince eyed her.

"How did you...?"

"I ran into Francis," Ashley A. explained, "He told me everything. That you guys talked about...I don't even want to say it...that all you guys have been doing since you got back was fight."

"That's not all..." Vince said, remembering the kiss again, his cheeks flushing.

"Frankly, I don't think it's a good idea, stirring up the past that way," Ashley A. continued, "I think you and the others need to leave it alone."

"That's the problem, Ashley A., we want to leave it alone, but it won't leave us alone," Vince snapped, angry. "Besides, it's TJ's fault. Why should I care? I have no responsibility in what happened. I'm not to blame."

"Oh please," Ashley A. laughed nervously, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why, because if you don't talk about it, it'll go away? It'll be like it never happened?"

"No. That's not what I meant."

"Isn't it? That if you push it aside, forget about it, then Mary Anna never existed...jeez, I sound like Gretchen." Vince attempted to pull himself up. He'd just been reminded of everything he had to do, and none of them involved sitting around on that damned hospital bed.

"What are you doing?" Ashley A. questioned, her brow furrowed in worry.

"Getting out of here. Help me."

"Like, no way." Return of the old Ashley A.

"Listen, will you! Something is going on, something big, in this little town. Something having to do with that pact we signed fifteen years ago, as far as we can figure. Gus is missing. If something is going on, and I'm betting it's something bad, and it does have to do with what happened, then you're involved. No matter how you like it or not, no matter how you ignore it. Someone is coming for us. Someone came for Gus and took him, someone came for me and look where I am and someone will come for you. And something tells me that they ain't stopping until we've all been hit, or worse, until we're all dead," Vince snapped, "Now get me out of this damn hospital bed and take me to Kelso's." Ashley A. stared at him in silence for a long time, then finally nodded, flipping out her cell phone and clicking a gelly button.

"Bruce, bring the car around," she said, then hung up the phone and came to Vince's side to help pull him out of the bed. She grabbed his clothes and stuffed them under her arm then slipped to Vince's side, supporting him as they made their way out of the room.

-0-0-0-0-

Spinelli made her way down the street. She'd been walking around town all night and even as the daylight broke on the horizon, she still walked. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't care. Her bare feet were bleeding and her nose was running and her head was pounding, but still she walked. Tears flowed smoothly, freely down her cheeks, steady and calm. She couldn't think anymore. She didn't want to. A chill wind picked up, stirring her hair to life. She wrapped her arms tightly about her and stopped in front of a silver-link fence. She looped her fingers into it, staring up at the large building, the empty blacktop, the ghostly swings swaying in the wind as though invisible swingers were on them, kicking their legs back and forth. Third Street Elementary, the place where she'd grown up too soon. She could just see the rebuilt gymnasium far in the back. The bucket of bolts, Old Rusty, still stood proudly in the middle of it all. The Cheese box, the kindergartners' area, the tire stack that was the Ashleys Clubhouse, the sand box, the kickball field, everything she remembered about the place was still there, like a preserved memory.

Spinelli kicked the fence, turning to the sweet unrecognizable face of a woman grinning maliciously, inches away from her. She had no time to react as a hand engulfed her mouth, a damp cloth smelling of...something...something strong, biting at her nostrils and throat.

The woman's smile broadened as she watched Spinelli's eyelids grow heavy and body become limp, slumping to the ground. The last thing Spinelli heard was the childish giggling of a little girl, and a whisper in her ear, "I'm taking him from you, because you don't deserve him. I just wanted you to know."

END A/N: Lot's of stuff happened...lot's of happy...well, no, sad, upsetting stuff happened. Okay, I just want you all to know that originally, I wasn't going to have Cornchip Girl be Gus's wife, but I didn't want to come up with a whole new character, so, I gave in. And, just so you know, Gus being married wasn't a last minute deal, I knew one of them was going to be, either Mikey or Gus, and I finally decided on Gus. That's just for you to know, alrighty? Okay. I hope at the end of this story TJ redeems himself in some way, because he's starting to get a little on the "we can never forgive him, he's a bastard," side.

TheNextPoliticalDynasty - I don't know if you were talking about the woman that TJ was with or what, but you somehow figured out that Ashley A. was appearing in this chapter. You must be psychic. GET OUT OF MY MIND...er...hehe...hope you liked the story.

Please REVEIW! -- Didn't get enough of that last chapter...hehe...I think it kicked some people in the butts though and let them know how I felt. I love REVIEWs though.

Thanks for reading, and please excuse any grammatical and typing errors.

Much love, me