A/N: Thank you so very much to everyone who has offered feedback to this story. Your comments are always greatly appreciated and are also a great motivator when writer's block becomes severe. Thanks!

Chapter 54 - Part A: Thanksgiving Day

Brady stood posed much like a man about to be greeted by his firing squad. He and Chloe had eaten a Thanksgiving lunch with his family and now it was time to have dinner with her mother and step-father.

Try as he may, Brady could not recall a more somber and tense Thanksgiving. And, standing on the Wesley front porch, he realized that things would surely get worse before they got better. And, the expression upon Nancy's face when she opened the front door confirmed Brady's fears. No matter how short the meal, it would be a very long evening.

Brady's insincere greeting died on his lips as Nancy snatched the dish out of his hands and turned to walk back in the house. To himself Brady muttered, "Happy Thanksgiving to you, too."

With a quick slap to Brady's arm, Chloe lowly stated, "Come on, let's get this over with."

Less than fifteen minutes later, the rather atypical Wesley family sat gathered around the dinner table. A dark silence prevailed and no one present dared to question its authority.

Chloe lifted her fork to begin eating but quickly returned the utensil to its place beside her plate. Charging into the conversation before she could lose her courage, Chloe openly confessed, "I lied, Nancy."

With her own fork poised to attack the sliced turkey upon her own plate, Nancy slowly turned her gaze toward her daughter. "Excuse me?"

As Craig lowered his eyes to his untouched meal and Brady covered his eyes with his left hand, Chloe made her dreaded revelation. "I'm not pregnant." To herself Chloe silently added, "I've never even had sex."

"Excuse me?" responded Nancy, repeating her earlier expression.

"I'm not pregnant. I only told you that so you would let me marry Brady."

For the third time in as many minutes, Nancy replied, "Excuse me?"

"I said . . ."

"I know what you said . . ."

And, the turkey and yams were forgotten as the Wesley barbs began to fly at an exceptional rate. As Chloe shouted at her mother, who was berating Brady, Craig gladly volunteered to answer the ringing telephone.

Bringing the cordless handset to his ear, Craig discovered that his blessed diversion was merely a wrong number.

However, as Craig wearily grabbed his coat and keys, the misdialing of a half-blind grandmother became his ticket to a few hours of much needed, quiet reclusion. Walking back into the dining room, Craig reflected over the irony that those who gave him the most love and joy were also the ones who caused his deepest pain and frustration.

"That was the hospital," lied Craig as he carefully avoided eye contact with his family members. "Looks like I'm going to have to work today after all."

Even as Nancy began to respond with a dissatisfied whine, Craig hurriedly commented, "Don't bother waiting up for me; I'll likely be late getting home."

Despite the clear evening sky, a cold November wind ungraciously slapped at Jeremy's face as he walked north on Riley Street.

Though the temperatures were not unreasonable for late November, Jeremy was beginning to wish he had not decided to walk to Alice Horton's house when he could have simply rode to dinner with his aunt or borrowed Jack's car. Of course, he had not even planned to be in Salem for the holiday but as he had been on the way to the airport, his dad called to let him know that they would have to cancel their Thanksgiving plans.

Just as Jeremy turned east on the street his great-grandmother lived on, he caught sight of a familiar figure walking in his direction.

Jeremy chuckled softly when the girl recognized him and began to immediately act as if she had not noticed him.

"Hello, Jan," greeted Jeremy when the brunette was ten or eleven feet from him.

Not even bothering to slow down, Jan mumbled, "Oh, hey, I didn't even realize it was you. Sorry."

Taking an unusually bold action, Jeremy gently took hold of Jan's wrist as she attempted to walk by him. "How's your Thanksgiving going?"

With a near snarl upon her lips, Jan simply replied, "Fine."

"Are you on your way to dinner?"

Jan pulled her wrist free of Jeremy's loose grasp and gave him a withering glare. "Why are you asking me all these questions? My life does not concern you."

"I was just trying to make polite conversation."

"Yeah, well," huffed Jan. "Go make polite conversation with someone else."

With unconcealed curiosity, Shawn crossed the street and approached the pair. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, Shawn smiled widely. "Jeremy, are you on your way to Gran's?"

His eyes never leaving Jan, Jeremy responded, "Yeah, I was actually walking that way when I ran into Jan." As Jan rolled her eyes, Jeremy continued, "In fact, I was just asking her what her plans were for tonight."

"And," Jan practically growled. "I already told you that my plans are none of your business."

Finally looking at his younger cousin, Jeremy said, "I'm glad Grandma Alice called me when I found out I wasn't going to get to go see my dad. Otherwise I'd have probably spent my entire Thanksgiving break alone in my room working on some school project."

Shifting her gaze to the sidewalk, Jan muttered, "I'm going home now."

Before he could really think about his words, Jeremy impulsively said, "I'm sure there'll be a ton of extra food at my grandmother's if you want to come with us."

Shawn struggled to keep an expression of abhorred shock from dominating his face. If he lived a thousand years he would still fail to understand what motivated his friends and relatives.

For a brief moment Jan looked as if she might accept Jeremy's generous invitation. She looked as if she might choose a warm and comforting meal over returning to an empty house and a TV dinner. Yet, even as her mouth opened, her expression hardened and she replied, "As if I'd really want to spend my Thanksgiving with you and your sappy family."

As Jan quickly walked away, Shawn slapped Jeremy on the shoulder and commented, "If you ever figure women out, let me know."

The soft humming of the hospital machines provided a melodic backdrop as Sinclair hesitantly entered Zach's room. Her mannerisms expressed a timidity that was truly foreign to the young woman.

Attempting to suffocate her fear with an intrepid facade, Sinclair forced a near-smile onto her face. However, it was almost painful to keep the expression on her face when she looked at her brother's battered body and the machinesl attached to it. As she closed the door, she began, "Hey, you." Her only response was rhythmic beeps emitted by inanimate instruments. "I can't believe you're still sleeping. Haven't you had enough of that yet?" Only beeps. "Even I don't sleep through Thanksgiving – well, at least not all of it. That's what today is, you know. It's Thanksgiving."

Her facade beginning to crack, Sinclair seated herself on the stool beside Zach's bed. "I really wish you'd wake up."

Minutes, passing as slowly as the darkest hours of night, slipped away.

When Zach did not stir, Sinclair angrily spat, "Dammit, would you just wake up?" Still, there were no signs of life. "Oh, I get it," commented Sinclair as she struggled to control her emotions. "You're pouting because I haven't come to visit since Saturday. Well, maybe if you would actually wake up and leave this God forsaken hospital, I would visit you. Zach, you know how much I hate hospitals. They reek of . . . death."

Struggling to keep herself from crossing the edge of sanity and slipping into a valley of despair, Sinclair took several deep breaths. "I'm really not good at this, Zach. This whole bedside vigil thing really isn't my style. And, you fail miserably as the poor, helpless patient. You and I are the type of people that everyone else looks at in awe. We live life while they watch it pass by. They all want to be like us because we don't let anything or anyone stop us. We live. They just survive."

Angrily brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face, Sinclair continued, "Jesus Christ, Zach, you are really starting to piss me off." As undesired tears revealed the hurt her words did not, Sinclair continued, "Just wake up. Okay? Is that so hard? Just wake up, and I swear I'll make up for all the mistakes I've made in the past. I won't run away from things anymore. Hell, Zach, I'll even stay here in this God awful town and keep you company. I'll do whatever it takes. Just wake up. Please, Zach, I'm begging you. I've never begged anyone for anything. But, I'm begging you to wake up and tell me you're gonna be okay."

Jason stood in the doorway several seconds before announcing his presence. Having heard that Chloe and Brady would be eating dinner with the Wesley's, Jason had assumed that he would find Zach's room empty. Instead, he discovered Zach's rather mysterious sister on the verge of a complete meltdown.

In the days that had passed since the accident, Jason had not once wondered about Zach's family. He had been entirely focused on his own pain and fears. Now, he realized that there were actually people out there who cared about Zach as much as he did – if not more.

Lightly knocking on the door as he fully opened it, Jason softly greeted, "You look like you could use a break."

"I'm fine,' immediately responded Sinclair in a stern yet alarmingly fragile tone.

Jason wanted to argue that people who were fine did not sit in dark rooms and carry on hysterical conversations with comatose patients. However, there was an intensity in Sinclair's eyes that warned him not to push her. He knew just enough about the Wesley sister to know that she was surely not as she appeared to be.

Though her gaze returned to Zach, Sinclair directed her question toward Jason. "Shouldn't you be at home with your family? Don't you have a turkey to carve or something like that?"

"Actually, the only family I have in Salem is my mom and my little sister. And, with my sister at my grandmother's, my mom and I decided we'd just have a small lunch together and forget dinner." From Sinclair's lack of a response, Jason could clearly see that she did not truly care how he spent his Thanksgiving. Trying to open the closed lines of communication, he asked, "What about you? Shouldn't you be chowing down with Dr. and Mrs. Wesley?"

"I'd rather chow down on rotting road kill than delve into the hypocrisy of a dinner with Nancy and her long lost little girl. A daughter Craig and Nancy did not even bother to mention until I overheard them making dinner plans for tonight."

"If it makes you feel any better, I hated Chloe when she came to town."

"And, now?"

"Now, I don't really care one way or the other. I've got too many other things going on to worry about Ghoul Girl."

For only the second time since his entrance, Jason was graced with Sinclair's gaze. "Ghoul Girl?"

"Yeah, that was a nickname some of us gave her."

Completely changing the topic, Sinclair randomly asked, "Do you think that Zach even knows we are here?"

Jason was shocked by Sinclair's sudden transformation from bored indifference to rapt attention. He wanted to give her a deep, philosophical response that would somehow comfort her; yet, he did not have such a response. Offering the truth, he responded, "I don't know. I sorta hope so. Then again, if he's in a lot of pain, I really don't want him to be aware of that."

Sinclair briefly nodded before returning her poignant look to her brother.

Jason could feel Sinclair's resolve fading away and knew that her inner strength would not be able to sustain her for much longer in such a somber environment. "Why don't you give me and Zach a little while alone, huh? You really do look like you could use the break, and I know I could use the time with him."

Sinclair considered refusing Jason's polite offer. She considered it – but knew better than to decline a second time. If she stayed in the barren hospital room much longer, she would risk her own sanity and be of no use to Zach when he did wake from his potent sleep. "I think I'll just go for a walk or something."

Realizing that Sinclair was probably not wholly familiarized with the city, Jason suggested, "Salem Place isn't very far from here. A lot of the stores are probably closed, but the cinema is definitely open. Maybe you could just watch a movie to take your mind off all this other stuff."

Sinclair nodded as she considered the suggestion. "Will you stay with Zach until I get back?"

"Yeah, no problem."

Almost as soon as the door closed, Jason cracked a strained grin and remarked, "Man, your sister is hot. If things don't ever work out with Meems, maybe you can give me the hook-up so I can score with your sister."

"It's a good thing he is in a coma. Otherwise, he'd probably knock the hell out of you for a comment like that."

With deliberately slow movements, Jason turned to look at the man standing in the doorway. Jason wondered if Craig had purposely waited for Sinclair to leave before visiting his brother. Considering how quickly he had appeared after Sinclair's departure, Jason found it to be a viable guess. Responding to Craig's statement, Jason remarked, "It'd be worth it if he'd actually wake up."

"Maybe he will soon." His tone becoming tainted with inquisitiveness, Craig asked, "Shouldn't you be with your family eating dinner?"

"Nah, we don't really do Thanksgiving."

Craig smiled wistfully. "Zach and Sinclair never really 'did' Thanksgiving, either. Zach would suffer through it for the food, but mostly he and Sinclair just liked to steal some dessert and flee the house."

"That sounds about like Zach."

His gaze focused on Zach, Craig sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the hospital bed. Continuing with his familial reflections, Craig softly said, "Those two where such a handful – still are. No one can tell them what to do or when to do it. But, Zach's really pulled his act together since moving to Salem. I think this town and its people have had a really positive influence on him. I hope the same will happen for Sinclair."

Quite hesitantly Jason replied, "Yeah, I get the feeling she's a little more . . . intense than Zach."

"She can be the most intense and focused girl – or the most laidback, uncaring person on earth. Either way, she'll be what she wants to be and to hell with anyone who doesn't like it."

"Sounds like she and Zach could be twins."

"Just about," answered Craig with a sad chuckle. "They both have an incredible passion for life and all its experiences – but they are both dangerously reckless. Zach and Sinclair can usually see what the most logical choice is, but if it's not the most exciting option, they'll bypass it. They walk around as if they're invincible. Fearless. And, I try to not let them see how much that worries me. In fact, that's how it was this past weekend."

"What happened?" Jason questioned as he found himself being drawn into the complexity of the Wesley family. He was just beginning to see that his was not the only dysfunctional clan.

"When I brought Sinclair in to see Zach on Saturday, it was just too much for her. She ran out of here and went back to the house. A few hours after that, Nancy went up to check on her, and she was gone."

Repeating his previous question, Jason asked, "What happened?"

Craig released a tired sigh and leaned back in the chair. "Well, I didn't hear from her at all on Saturday evening or anytime during the night. And, she had left her cell phone at the house, so I really had no way of getting in touch with her. Finally, she called me late Sunday morning to let me know she was okay."

"So, where was she all night?" As the question left his mouth, Jason began to feel much like an attorney questioning someone on the witness stand at a murder trial.

"I don't know. She didn't want to tell me. Sinclair just said that she was safe." Sharing information that he knew he should keep to himself, Craig divulged, "Of course, I had a pretty good idea what 'safe' meant when she came home in a man's jacket."

An awkward silence fell over the room as Craig recalled Sinclair mysterious return home and Jason wondered what the appropriate response was to such a comment.

Uncomfortably attempting to change the subject, Jason asked, "So, where are Zach's parents? Are they going to get here soon?"

"Mom and Dad probably won't be making the trip to Salem unless there is a drastic change in Zach's condition. I call and keep them updated on what's going on, but they don't feel like there's anything they can do to help him whether they're here or in Chicago."

A million thoughts raced through Jason's mind and he was barely able to keep a series of unkind comments to himself. He found the situation to be incredibly unfair to Zach. Despite his tumultuous relationship with his own parents, Jason had no doubts that they would both be by his side if he were the one in the coma.

Breaking the silence that had overtaken the hospital room, Craig's pager released a shrill beeping noise. After taking a quick glance down at the number, Craig muttered, "I'll be right back."

Fifteen minutes later he returned to find Jason staring bleakly at Zach. "Jason," began Craig as he entered the room. "I need you to do something for me."

Jason stole a glance at Zach before responding, "I told Sinclair that I would stay with Zach. Neither of us wants him to be alone."

Craig smiled sadly and knew that Jason was, without a doubt, the person he needed for the task at hand. "I'll stay with Zach until either you or Sinclair gets back."

"Alright," hesitantly agreed Jason. "What do you need me to do?"

"Well, sometime tonight I need you to pick up Mimi Lockhart. It'll take both of you to take care of what needs to be done."