It was always hardest at night. When the darkness would swoop in, shrouding her in her own loneliness, that's when her strength wavered the most.

Not having pride does a funny thing to a person. It makes it easy to make that phone call to your estranged sister and ask for forgiveness. And it's easy to look at your former best friend and not care what he sees. But when the stars come out, it's so much harder to face yourself.

At night, it was quiet, and even when you abuse it with every chemical substance you can get your hands on, your mind always finds a way to click on as the sun sets. Old memories float back, and fresh tears forge new paths. The distant sound of a party can make you long for the things you've made yourself believe you can do without. A crying baby causes you to reach out to the mother you've long since lost, and the whisper of a kiss can kill you all over again.

Joey hated the darkness, more so even than she hated herself. At night, when you're alone, there's no warm body to seek out to bring the memories to a stop. At night, she would sell her left arm for a fix.

Calling Bessie had opened a door for her, and ironically enough, it had been the door to her old bedroom. Everything, right down to the pencils on the desk, was exactly the way she had last seen it. Joey had barely been able to walk through the doorway without feeling her sister's pain. It radiated off of her in waves. Forgotten dreams, broken promises, disappointments, and regretful relief had washed over Joey when Bessie had wrapped her arms around her sister.

There was forgiveness. It was there, in the tears they both shed. There was acceptance. It was there, in her sister's hand, wrapped tightly around her own as she explained the years between happiness and now. And there was love. It was there, in everything. The tea, the whispered words that carried them long into the night and early morning, and in the eyes of her nephew.

Alex was eight now, and full of curiosity. Bessie had found him hiding in the mudroom off the kitchen long after they had finished talking about the time Joey had smoked away. He looked at his aunt then, secrets and questions in his eyes, and simply said, "I like that you came home, Aunt Jo. I missed playing cars with you."

His innocence and childish strength broke her. Fresh tears trailed down her cheeks, soaking his tiny shoulder as she pulled him into her arms. She looked at Bessie then, and the last secret was shared. There was a tiny life growing in that room, in her body, and she was going to do everything she could to keep that life safe.

And suddenly, while cradling her nephew in her lap, the darkness wasn't so hard anymore.

----

"How is she doing?" Pacey leaned back in his chair, the phone cord tangling around his foot as he propped it up on his desk.

Bessie sighed on the other end of the connection, resting against the kitchen counter. "She's sleeping now. After I picked her up, I brought her home and forced some food on her. It was a little awkward at first, but once she started talking, it wasn't long until everything was out."

"Everything?" Pacey asked, hoping Bessie would catch his subtle implication that he knew there was another life at stake in this situation.

"I know about the baby, Pacey." She sighed again, afraid of the words that she was about to speak out loud. "I'm just not sure it's a good idea for her to deal with this at the same time as her recovery."

Pacey knew things would have to take this course sooner or later, he was just glad it was sooner, rather than later. "Bessie, I know this is going to hurt to hear, but I have to say it. Joey is sick. Her addiction is her disease. It's going to take a lot for her to overcome this. This baby, this life that's growing inside of her, gives her a sense of purpose. It gives her a reason to survive. In situations like this, that's usually the hardest thing to establish. Joey wants to be okay again, and this baby is giving her the strength to become the person she used to be. She needs that."

"I know, Pacey. I know that. I'm just scared for her. Is she strong enough physically to take this on? What about withdrawals? Won't that harm the baby?"

"There's always a possibility, Bess. As much as I want to be able to give you false hopes, none of us can afford to be eternally optimistic. My biggest wish in all of this is that she has this baby, and it's healthy. She needs something to keep her focused. And as much as I want her recovery about her, we both know that Joey is stronger when she's fighting for someone else. We have to work with that."

Bessie wiped away a tear, and took a deep breath, drawing in her emotions. "Pacey, I just want to say, you know, just in case I forget while we're fighting this thing... Thank you, Pacey. For walking into that room and finding her. I'm glad you're with us on this. I can't bear to think what would have happened had someone else walked into that room."

"Bessie, don't thank me. I'm just another hand for her to hold. She has to do the work."

"Just the same, Pacey. We're grateful." Bessie looked up, spotting Joey in the doorway. "I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Bess. Tell her I said hi."

"Bye Pacey."

Bessie pressed the off button the cordless phone and set it on the counter. Her eyes met Joey's and her hope evaporated in a poof of smoke when she noticed the rage.

"Discussing my case, Bess?"

"He called to make sure you were settling in okay, Jo." Bessie turned to finish the dishes, the task she had abandoned when the phone rang. "He's worried about you."

Joey fought to keep her anger from touching her sister. Her feelings, or lack there of, for Pacey didn't involve Bessie, and it wasn't fair to bring her into that. "I'm going to request another case worker, Bess. I don't think it's such a good idea to have someone I used to know working on this with me."

Bessie ran a washcloth over a plate, removing the leftover remnants of breakfast. "Why?"

"Why what, Bessie?" Joey sat on a stool and rested her arms on the counter that separated the kitchen from the breakfast nook. "Just because he used to know me doesn't mean he can help me now."

"He told me what he said, Jo. Please, please don't hold that against him. You know he's always been humble when it comes to the things he excels at. This is his career. He helps people like you everyday, and more often than not, he's successful. But he refuses to take it for granted because he thinks that the minute he 'basks in his glory', as it were, he's not going to be able to help people anymore." Bessie turned to face her sister, handing her a dishtowel as she did so. "He doesn't want your gratitude, Joey. He wants you to get better. That's his job. But what isn't his job, what he doesn't normally do in situations like this, is become emotionally invested. The moment he walked into that room and saw you, I know he felt like a failure. Whether you knew it or not, it's always been his secret mission to protect you. And he thinks he failed."

"Maybe he did."

"Joey, regardless of the past, you know Pacey can help you. You know it, just like you know you're going to do whatever you can to get better so you can give that baby what it deserves. Don't push Pacey away again. Please, Jo."

"Bessie-"

"If not for me, or even for yourself, do it for that baby."

Joey felt something shift inside of her. Maybe it was her heart softening and maybe it was the door to the past opening, but whatever it was, it made her look at her sister and nod. "Okay. Okay, Bessie."