Hey readers! Well, season one of Desperate Housewives ended recently, and now that we have such an agonizingly long time to wait for new episodes, I thought I'd try my hand at creating a sort of "virtual season" that continues on after "One Wonderful Day". Hopefully we'll end up with a whole "season" of sorts, with a complete story.

Now keep in mind, some of the things that will happen in these chapters have been hinted at through spoilers, so if you don't want any kinds of tidbits for season two spoiled, read on, but do so carefully!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Desperate Housewives, I'm just borrowing its lovely characters for some fun!

Let the games begin!

One - Wherever the Road May Lead

Six Months Ago

Camille Lawrence pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building. She put her car into park and sat in silence. She slowly wiped tears from her eyes and sat silently in her car, trying to control her sobbing.

She looked over at the passenger seat, slightly lit by the moonlight slanting through the windshield. A small piece of crumpled paper lay on the seat beside her. Camille stared at it for a long time, unsure if she would be able to look at it again. Wiping away another stray tear, she quickly reached out and snatched the note up.

She unfolded it and spread it out across the steering wheel.

She couldn't help but feel a knot in her stomach as she read the hastily scrawled words on the wadded up note.

"I'll never let you talk."

She swallowed hard, and felt a lump in her throat. Who would send something like that to her? It had to be someone she knew. Otherwise, how would they know what car to put it on?

She stuffed the note into her pants pocket and tried to compose herself again. She was about to get out of the car when she looked up and saw a figure looming right outside her door.

Camille gasped and instinctively clicked the automatic locks.

"Camille, it's me," a familiar voice said from outside the vehicle. Camille strained to see through the darkness, and she finally made out the facial features of the young man standing beside her car.

"M-Matthew…," she said softly. She wondered if he had even heard her through the window, she had spoken so quietly.

"Camille, I just wanna talk," Matthew said, his dark features marred with concern. Camille searched his dark brown eyes, searching for sincerity in them.

"Just go away," she said firmly.

"Please," Matthew pleaded, not making any move to leave her alone anytime soon. Camille sighed and looked away. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. Not when it was so close to…

She looked back at Matthew and unlocked the doors.

She climbed out of the car and quietly shut the driver side door behind her. She leaned against the car, hoping to look strong and put-together, and not like she had just been sitting alone in her car, crying.

"What do you want, Matt," she asked, exasperated. "It's late."

"I wanted to see you," Matt replied, and he moved to wrap his arms around her. Camille jerked away, flinching.

"You won't even let me touch you," he muttered, disappointed.

"What did you expect," Camille spat out.

"Just…please…hear me out," Matthew said, a twinge of panic in his voice. Camille couldn't take anymore of this. She started to walk past him, but Matt latched onto her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"Matt," she cried in surprise. "Let go of me!"

"Come on, let's just go somewhere and talk," Matt suggested. Camille tugged and pulled, and finally released herself from Matt's grip. She backed away from him, getting closer to her apartment.

"Just leave me alone," she cried. "Just go!"

With that, she turned and ran as fast as she could into her apartment, leaving Matthew standing all alone in the middle of the parking lot.

Present Day

Mike Delfino closed the door behind him as he entered his house. Correction: his and Susan's house, now. During all of the craziness that had taken over their lives these past months, he still couldn't believe that he and Susan were finally back together. After all of the lies and the deceit, he could finally be straight with her - about everything.

Maybe it was time for a new start. A clean slate.

Now that the mess with Paul Young was over, maybe he would finally just leave them alone, or better yet, leave town, and he, Susan and Julie could start living their lives. It sounded too good to be true.

In the living room, he found Susan sitting on the couch with her head in her hands. She looked as if she had been crying.

"Susan," Mike asked, moving further into the living room. Susan looked up, shocked to see him, and she leapt off the couch, embracing him tighter than she ever had before.

"Oh my God, Mike," she breathed into his neck.

"Susan, what's wrong," Mike asked, pulling her away from him so that he could look into her face. He gently wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Everything," Susan said, the emotional floodgates opening up. "Everything…is just so…messed up. I can't even begin to describe to you…"

She glanced over Mike's shoulder where she saw Zach hiding on the staircase, menacingly holding the gun beside him. He motioned for her to be quiet by putting a finger over his lips.

"Mike…you have to…leave," Susan said slowly, stilted. She had to find a way to alert Mike, to let him know she was in trouble.

"What are you talking about," Mike asked, confused.

"It's just, we still have so much more to figure out," Susan continued, pulling further away from him. "Oh! The diary! You have to take Mrs. Huber's diary to the police. Remember? Our plan? To go to the police? We have to go the police and let them know what we've figured out."

"Susan, you're acting crazy," Mike said, concerned.

Susan slumped over a little, realizing that her plan wasn't working. She sighed and shot a glance back at the staircase.

Zach was no longer crouching there.

She quickly looked around, trying to find out where he had gone to, but she couldn't see him.

"Mike, hurry, we have to go," Susan cried, and she began to tug on Mike's arm so they could run out the front door. They both turned to go, but standing in front of them was Zach Young, holding his gun out in front of him.

Pointed right at Mike's chest.

"Don't move," he said coldly.

Bree Van De Kamp was pacing in the waiting room at the hospital, worriedly wringing her hands together. Danielle and Andrew were sitting side-by-side nearby, quietly watching their mom move slowly back and forth in front of them.

From a side door, Lynette and Gabrielle rushed into the waiting room.

"We got your message," Lynette said, out of breath.

"Honey, what's going on," Gabby asked, concern slanting her chocolate colored eyes as she looked very closely at Bree, who looked on the brink of a breakdown.

"I thought Rex's surgery was scheduled for tomorrow," Lynette asked, furrowing her brow.

Bree tried to look her friends in the eye, but found it difficult to do so. She finally found the strength to look at them. Tears were slowly beginning to creep into the corners of her eyes.

"Bree," Lynette pressed, moving closer to the usually well-coifed red-head. Bree broke down and nearly collapsed into Lynette's arms. Gabby moved in to help, and they guided Bree to a nearby seat.

"Tell us what happened," Gabby urged.

"Rex…didn't make it," Bree told them, pulling herself together enough so that she could form words.

"But he was doing so well," Lynette murmured, looking lost.

"The doctors think something was wrong with his prescription," Bree told her friends. "It was making his condition worse, all this time. I didn't even notice. I should have noticed! I pay attention to the details. It's what I do."

"Bree, no one could have seen this coming," Lynette said softly, putting a hand on Bree's shoulder, hoping to calm her down.

"So what do we do," Gabby asked, feeling very helpless.

"I don't know," Bree whispered. A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. "For once in my life, I have no idea what to do."

"We'll help you," Lynette said with a small nod.

"Anything at all, just ask," Gabby confirmed, smiling warmly. Danielle and Andrew approached the three women, looking timid and worried.

"Mom, we're going to get something to eat," Danielle said softly.

"Do you need some money," Lynette asked, looking up at the kids. They shook their heads and slowly walked away.

Bree looked up and stared at Gabby and Lynette.

"Where is Susan," she asked.

"I don't know," Gabby said with a shrug. "I called her about a million times on my way over here. She never answered her cell."

"I'm sure she'll come as soon as she can," Lynette said comfortingly. Bree could only nod absently. She went back to staring into space and wringing her hands together, methodically squeezing the muscles and tendons beneath her tingling skin.

Lynette and Gabby sat with her in the silence.

Andrew Van De Kamp was trying to decide which sandwich he wanted from the hospital vending machine when he saw a familiar face reflected in the glass. He spun around and saw Justin, half of his face bruised and battered, standing behind him. He looked around, instinctively checking to see if anyone was around.

He'd promptly ditched Danielle once they left their mom with her friends. Nobody but hospital personnel around, now.

"Justin," Andrew said, surprised to see him. "How did you know…?"

"I overheard Mrs. Solis," Justin informed him. "At the court house."

Andrew nodded slowly, looking down at his feet. Justin moved slightly closer to Andrew, moving to comfort him.

"I am so sorry," Justin murmured, close enough to whisper into Andrew's ear. Andrew was still for a few moments, but then he shoved himself away from Justin. He didn't want to be seen like this.

Not yet.

"Look, I have a lot of stuff to do," Andrew said. "I have…planning…and…my mom, she needs me."

"You hate your mother," Justin said simply.

"It's complicated," Andrew said, looking Justin right in the eye. "I can't talk about it right now. I…I have to go."

Susan's cell phone, which was sitting on the kitchen table, untouched, showed that she had missed eighteen phone calls.

Needless to say, she was unavailable at the moment.

"Zach," Mike said softly, holding his hands out in front of him so that the young boy could see he was unarmed. "Calm down. Put the gun down."

"Shut up," Zach cried, pointing at Mike with his free hand. "You! Just shut up! I don't wanna hear any of your lies."

"Zach, come on, let's just talk," Susan offered, trying once again to reason with the poor kid. She was still in shock over the news that she had been given. Mary-Alice wasn't his real mother. The Youngs had murdered someone to keep Zach, they moved and changed their name.

It was a lot to take in.

"No more talking," Zach said softly, slowly shaking his head. "I'm going to get my revenge. You killed my father, Mike. And now…I'm gonna kill you."

"He's still alive, Zach," Mike said firmly. "I didn't hurt him."

Zach faltered for a moment, and the gun slowly dropped a little. He regained his courage and raised the gun back up so that it was once again held directly in Mike's face. Susan gasped and covered her mouth.

"Liar," Zach screamed. "Stop it, stop lying!"

"Zach," a voice screamed from the front door. Everyone turned in shock to find Paul Young standing in the front entryway of Susan's house.

"Dad…," Zach murmured.

Later that night, Gabby finally made it home after Bree had spent more than hour convincing herself and Lynette that they could leave her at the hospital so they could get some much-needed rest. Gabby closed the front door behind her and sighed deeply. She didn't even have the energy to turn on the light.

She began walking into the front room and noticed a dark shadow sitting on the couch. She stopped in her tracks.

"Who's there," she said softly.

A lamp flicked on, casting warm yellow light across most of the living room, bathing John Rowland's light brown skin with soft accents of light. Gabby visibly relaxed at the sight of him.

"Oh, it's you," she said simply.

"I've been waiting here since I left the court house," John told her. "Where did you go?"

"I was at the hospital," Gabby told him, and she sat on the chair nearby the couch John was seated on.

"Is everything okay," John asked.

"Mrs. Van De Kamp's husband," Gabby said softly, looking down at the clutch purse she held tightly in her well-manicured hands. "He was, uh, having some heart problems. He was supposed to go in for surgery tomorrow. But he didn't make it."

"Oh my God," John breathed. "That's horrible."

He looked closer at Gabby and realized she was crying. He moved over to her and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"It's okay," John said, trying to comfort her.

"No, John," Gabby said, shaking her head. "It hasn't been okay for a long time. Look at our lives."

"Yeah, things have been a little crazy lately," John admitted.

"That's the understatement of the century," Gabby scoffed. She wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed, trying to compose herself. "Listen, we need to make a plan. We are going to stay up all night if we have to. But I have to know. I have to know what we're going to do."

John was silent for a few moments. But then he nodded and a flicker of a smile danced across his lips.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Solis," he said quietly.

Bree was finally back at home after talking with half a dozen hospital employees. She had had to look at Rex's body as he was loaded into the morgue. She had to sign papers, papers she hadn't even looked at.

She walked over to the hall phone. She hesitated.

It was fairly late in the evening. It might be considered rude to call someone at this hour. But it was an emergency.

She was sure he would understand.

She picked up the phone and dialed. Several rings later, someone picked up.

"Yes, George," Bree said into the phone. "I need to see you."

"Zach, put the gun down," Paul Young said coldly.

Zach looked back and forth between Mike and his father, unsure of what to do. He hesitated, and the gun was slowly beginning to lower, not pointing towards anyone. Mike took that moment to his advantage.

He rushed forward, smashing into Zach's small, wiry frame.

"No," Susan cried.

Paul moved forward, trying to break the two apart, but it was almost impossible. Zach had suddenly become possessed with rage, and he was fighting back against Mike - hard. They nearly tumbled to the ground.

"Zach, no," Paul cried. "Zach!"

A sound like two trains smashing into one another pierced the relative silence of the house.

The gun had been fired.

Felicia Tillman wasn't expecting to receive any visitors while she was laid up in the hospital. She didn't really know anyone from her sister's neighborhood, besides the Young family, and she wasn't about to reach out to them in her hour of need. But nevertheless, the nurse announced to her that someone was coming into her room, and who was Felicia to deny them?

She was surprised to see Edie Britt enter the private room, nervously looking around the well-lit room.

"Edie," Felicia said, narrowing her eyes.

"Felicia, you look awful," Edie said, grimacing. Felicia looked down at herself, at the multiple bandages covering her wounds, and the cast holding her left arm in an uncomfortable, slightly bent position.

"Nice to see you too," Felicia said dryly.

"I just thought I'd check in on you," Edie said matter-of-factly. "I had some time to kill. The contractors never showed up at my house, and Susan was being a total bitch, so…But enough about my problems. How are you?"

"Forgive my bluntness," Felicia said, "but why do you care?"

Edie was silent for a couple of moments. She moved closer to Felicia's bed and put a hand on the side of the hospital gurney.

"Martha Huber was the closest thing I've ever had to a friend," Edie said. "And, now that she's gone…well, I don't really have anybody else."

"Poor girl," Felicia said. "Is that why you run to so many men?"

"I'm trying to have a moment here," Edie said, annoyed.

"Oh, right," Felicia said, nodding sagely. "Do continue."

Edie sighed, pursing her lips.

Susan slowly approached the trio of men who were now crowded around the living room.

"Mike…," she said softly.

"Susan," Mike responded, and he began to climb up off the floor. Susan rushed over to him and hugged him tightly.

"Oh my God, you're all right," she breathed.

"I'm okay," Mike said, relieved. They both looked down and saw a horrific scene splayed out before them.

Paul Young was lying on the floor, eyes wide open, staring. A puddle of blood surrounded his middle section.

Sitting across from him, still clutching the gun, Zach stared at his dead father wide wide, vacant eyes.

"Susan," Mike said quietly. "Call the police."

Betty Applewhite placed a single rose into a simple, glass vase.

"There," she said, beaming down at the tray of food she had delicately prepared. She loved to cook. It was a favorite past-time, passed down through the family. It gave her pleasure, knowing that she was in control. "All done."

She picked up the tray and turned to leave the kitchen.

Matthew was standing in the doorway leading into the living room.

"Come on, dear," Betty said. "It's time. You know what to do."

Matthew simply nodded, and he led the way down a hallway which ended with a plain white wooden door. He opened the door and they both slowly climbed down a flight of old, rickety stairs.

A light flickered to life, bathing the stairwell with pale yellow light.

The staircase ended abruptly in front of a metallic door with many locks situated in different areas on the door.

"Go ahead," Betty encouraged her son. Matthew complied and began to unlock all of the locks.

He opened the door and walked into the dark room beyond.

Betty followed after him and moved further into the room, which was very poorly lit. It seemed to be some kind of holding room.

"You weren't raised in a barn, Matthew," Betty scolded her son. "Please, close the door behind you."

Matthew nodded, and slowly closed the door.

To Be Continued.