Hello all!
I want to thank everyone who's replied to the story and those of you that haven't, but are reading. I'm so glad that you like the story! When things calm down for me a little, I swear that I will put up a special post to reply to you all in turn! Thanks again!
Snowie
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just borrowing!
Chapter Three:
*~*The Raging Storm*~*
*~*EASTERN MAINE MEDICAL CENTER*~*
Paul eased out of Pacey's hospital room and looked around the hall for his father. He spotted him down the hall talking to a patrolman. He hurried towards him. "Did you get a hold of them?" He asked as he reached his father.
"They're on their way," Derek said. "How's Pacey?"
"He's sleeping," Paul said.
"You learn anything more?"
"He didn't say much," Paul said. "Just..." He stopped as a scream ripped through the hall.
"NOOOO!!" Paul was moving almost immediately, his father on his heels. They entered Pacey's room on the coat tails of a doctor, a nurse right behind them. "Get away from me!" Pacey screamed. His frenzied eyes caught sight of the Doctor and Paul and Derek. "Get him away from me!" He cried, pointing at an orderly who was standing at the foot of his bed.
"Pacey, calm down," Paul said, his voice soothing.
"GET HIM OUT OF HERE!"
"Pacey, I need you to relax," the doctor said his voice soothing. "He's just an orderly. He's not going to hurt you."
"He's one of her's!" Pacey cried.
The doctor turned to the nurse. "A sedative." The nurse nodded and hurriedly drew a syringe for the doctor and handed it to him.
"What are you doing?" Pacey asked. "What...what are you doing!?"
"It's just to help you relax," the doctor said.
"I don't want it!" The doctor stepped forward to administer it to the IV. "NO!" Pacey screamed, flailing his good arm to the side, knocking the doctor off balance.
"Pacey," Paul said, hurrying forward.
"No!" Pacey cried. Paul gripped him by the shoulders and held him down, nodding at the doctor who quickly administered the drug.
"It'll be okay," Paul said. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Pacey struggled against his hold, but slowed as the drug kicked in. "You can't trust anyone," he said softly. "They're everywhere."
"Everything is fine, Pacey. I promise," Paul said.
Pacey looked up, his gaze meeting Paul's forcefully. "I'm NOT crazy."
"I don't think you are," Paul said. He looked up as the movement of the orderly towards the door caught his attention. He nodded to his father, who stepped up to the man, stopping his movement. "We'll figure it out."
"They're everywhere," Pacey whispered as his eyes fluttered shut. "Everywhere."
*~*CAPESIDE POLICE STATION*~*
"So, you want to explain why you ditched me?" Tamara Jacobs asked, standing in front of Doug's desk.
Doug looked up as the slightly amused voice of his girlfriend reached his ears. He could tell from her tone that she was amused for now. If he didn't have a damn good excuse that amusement would soon change to annoyance. He put the phone down and got to his feet, giving her a tight hug.
"I have a very good reason actually," Doug said softly. He stepped back and took a deep breath. Tamara could suddenly tell that whatever this was, it was major. "It's going to have repercussions for you too. For everyone at the high school." For it had suddenly hit Doug that the little boy that he remembered from six years ago was now almost a man. All of his friends were now in high school. If Pacey had grown up in Capeside like he should have, he would have had Tamara for English sophomore year.
"What's going on Doug?" Tamara asked.
"You remember how I told you about Pacey?" Doug said, his voice almost frenzied.
"Your younger brother who disappeared?" Tamara asked, puzzled.
Doug nodded. "We thought he was dead. We had no hope left...But they found him...."
"What!?"
"In Maine. I don't know what happened, how they found him. I only know that he's there and that my parents went to get him. I've been calling everyone in my family. His friends." He looked around, frazzled. "I keep feeling that there's something more that I should be doing."
"How about sitting down and relaxing for a minute and telling me what's bothering you."
Doug deflated and collapsed into his chair. "I'm scared to death," he said softly. Tamara sat next to him and placed her hand in his. "I'm scared of what happened to Pacey while he was gone. What he's going to be like. I'm scared that they scarred him, body and spirit. I'm...I'm scared that he'll come back and that the little boy who disappeared six years ago will be gone. That we'll never really get him back." Tamara rested her head comfortingly on Doug's shoulder, wishing that there was something that she could say to help him, to reassure him. But there was nothing that she could say with enough certainty to be convincing. She knew, as he did, that the boy who came back would not be the one who left. It was only a question of how much he had changed....and in what way.
*~*EASTERN MAINE MEDICAL CENTER*~*
"Pacey was right," Derek said, approaching Paul. "We think he's one of her's."
"He talk?"
"No," Derek said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "But he's not in any of the employment records."
Paul shook his head. "When are Pacey's parents getting here?"
"I think they were flying in. The storm probably delayed them, but they should be here soon."
Paul looked over at the door to Pacey's room which was now guarded by a policeman. "I wonder how they're going to react to this?"
"With a lot of tears, a lot of guilt and a lot of anger."
"Sheriff Andrews?" Someone questioned.
"Yes?" Derek said turning. It was the federal agents that had spoken to him at the bank. "Oh, it's you," he said. "What?"
"I understand that the boy is here," Special Agent Thomas said. "We need to speak to him."
"He was just sedated," Paul said. "One of Sally's men got in to see him."
"Is he all right?" Agent Jones asked, concerned.
"He'll be fine," Paul said.
"We need to talk to you too," Agent Thomas said. "You were there, correct? And you had a conversation with the boy?" Paul nodded. "What can you tell us about him?"
"His name is Pacey Witter. He's seventeen years old. Six years ago he was kidnapped from Capeside Massachusetts. His father, Sheriff John Witter, and his mother, Beth Witter are on their way here as we speak."
"Sheriff Andrews!" A man exclaimed, hurrying over to them, his wife at his heels. "I'm John Witter. My son..."
"Mr. Witter," Sheriff Andrews said. "He's in that room right over there. We'll let you peek in and then we need to talk to you..."
"But..." Beth started.
"He's sedated right now, Mrs. Witter," Paul said. "We'll explain...."
"Aren't you going to check their ID?" Agent Thomas asked. "You can't be sure..."
"Who are you?" John Witter asked. "Why would they need to check ID?"
"I'm Special Agent Thomas with the FBI," He said, showing his badge. "And they need to check ID because the boy's still in danger."
Agent Jones glared at her partner for a moment. He was so insensitive sometimes, just blurting things out. "We're just being cautious," she said softly to the Witter's. "We want to be sure that nothing more happens to Pacey."
"Here," John Witter said, thrusting his ID into Agent Thomas' hands. He then turned to Paul. "My son?"
"This way, Mr. Witter," Paul said, leading the way to Pacey's hospital room.
*~*CAPESIDE: DAWSON'S ROOM*~*
"Whatever Dawson," Joey said rolling her eyes. "We all know that television shows are of far better quality than movies any day..."
"What!?" Dawson squawked. "You've got to be..."
"Kidding!" Joey said, rolling her eyes again. "You've known me how long, Dawson?"
"Long enough that he should know when you're joking!" Jack said with a laugh. "What's up Dawson? Out of your league?"
"Hey, we all know that Joey can run circles around poor Dawson here. He doesn't stand a chance."
"Thank you so much Jen," Dawson said, glaring at her. Jen shrugged.
"Don't worry Dawson," Andie said, taking her boyfriend's hand. "I still love you."
"Thank you," Dawson said, kissing her lightly on the lips.
"Ugh, PDA," Joey said with a groan, but she smiled. She and Dawson had had a very shortlived romance, but had soon discovered that they were much better friends then lovers. Kissing him had been kind of like kissing a brother, and that was not a very comfortable thing. Joey was happy that Dawson had found Andie. They were perfect for each other, though she sometimes wondered how two such neurotic people could survive in the world together.
Joey shook her head and got to her feet. "You guys hungry?" She asked.
"Naw," The others said, shaking their heads.
"Well, I'm going to go get a snack. Don't start the movie without me, 'kay?"
"No problem," Jack said. Joey left and Andie turned to Dawson.
"Dawson, Dad wants to know if you'll come over for dinner tomorrow night," Andie said, looking at him expectantly. "Can you make it?"
Dawson was about to answer when the phone rang. He held up a finger as he answered. "Hello?" Dawson looked surprised as the person on the other end of the line announced themselves. "Doug? What...? You're kidding! Where was....? Who... She's here. Yeah...Yeah, I'll tell her..." He paused for a while as Doug spoke. "Let me know when he gets here," he said, his voice filled with stunned disbelief...and happiness. "We'll see you soon, Doug." He dropped the receiver back into it's cradle and stared at the wall for a moment.
Andie's eyebrows drew together in puzzlement when she noticed the dazed look on Dawson's face. "Dawson?" She questioned softly. "Are you okay?"
"Oh my god," Dawson said, turning his face towards her, but not really seeing her. "Where'd Joey go?"
"Downstairs..." Andie said. Dawson jumped to his feet and ran to the door. "Dawson?"
"Joey!" Dawson called. "Jo!?"
"What's going on?" Jack asked, looking confused.
Andie turned and looked at Jen who just shrugged. "I have no idea."
"Who's Doug?" Jack asked.
"Don't know that either."
"That I can help you with. Deputy Doug Witter most likely," Jen said. "But why he'd be calling here..." She shrugged again.
"JOEY!?" Dawson called again from the hall.
"Hold your horses!" Joey exclaimed, bounding up the stairs. "What's your problem, Dawson?"
"They found him, Jo," Dawson said, joy beginning to creep over his face.
"What?" Joey asked confused. "Who?"
"They found Pacey, Joey! He's coming home."
The plate that Joey was carrying clattered to the ground. She reached out and grabbed Dawson by his upper arms. "Are you serious?" She asked, shaking him slightly, her eyes wide.
Dawson nodded. "Swear on Captain Jones' bones," he said, holding up his right hand and calling on their old childhood pact.
"Oh my god!" Joey exclaimed. "Oh my god! How do you know?" She asked, shaking him again.
"Doug just called," Dawson said. "His parents just got the news. They're on their way to pick him up now."
"Did he say where he was? What had happened?"
"No," Dawson said. "I think Doug was still in a daze. He just said that his parents had gone to get him and he thought that we should know. He said that he'd give us a call when they get him home. But he's alive Joey! He's really alive!"
Joey let out a whoop and threw her arms around Dawson. "I don't believe this!" They did a little dance in the hall, as their friends watched in confusion.
"Um guys?" Jen said from the doorway where she was standing with Andie and Jack. "Sorry to interrupt and all, but who's Pacey?"
Joey and Dawson looked at each other, some of their excitement leaving them as they begin to think of the reality of the situation. They reentered Dawson's room and sat down on the bed. "Pacey Witter was our best friend," Joey said softly. "From the time that we were three until..." She stopped, the horror of those days returning. People talking in hushed voices. The lights moving through the woods at night as people searched. The discussion about dragging the creek...
Dawson understood her silence immediately and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "He disappeared when we were, what, ten years old?" Dawson said. Joey nodded. "They looked everywhere, eventually deciding that he must have been taken by someone. They think it was an act of revenge against Sheriff Witter." Dawson looked down at his feet.
"I don't think Sheriff Witter ever stopped looking for Pacey," Joey said softly. "Even if the official investigation was called off."
"How could he?" Dawson said. "Heck half the time when I walk down the street in another town, I look at each face..."
Joey nodded. "I know."
"Where do you think he was?" Jack asked softly. "Do they know who had him?"
Dawson shook his head. "I don't know. Doug didn't say much. I...I still can't believe..." Joey sat silently, a thoughtful, almost fearful look on her face. Dawson noticed almost immediately. "What's wrong Jo?"
"I was just thinking," Joey began softly. "You know, six years...that's a long time...I'm just scared for him is all." She looked up, her gaze meeting Dawson's. "It's just...the kind of people who would steal a child for revenge...what...what do you think they did to him...after they took him?"
Dawson felt the initial joy he had felt at the return of his best friend fade as fear began to replace it. "Oh god, Jo, I don't know..." And deep down he wondered if he truly wanted to know.
*~*EASTERN MAINE MEDICAL CENTER*~*
A storm raged outside, but it wasn't as violent as the one that raged within the hospital's walls. Deep within a young man's brain. Deep within his soul.
Pacey tossed and turned on his hospital bed as horrifying visions flashed before his eyes. The sounds he made would have been painful to hear, if anyone had been there to listen. But for the moment he was alone, the nightmares his only companions. He gasped suddenly and sat up straight in bed, sweat pouring off of him. He looked around frantically, unsure where he was. If they found out he was gone... If they found him...His breath caught in his throat as the door to his room began to open. He shrank back, his eyes searching desperately for an escape route. A way out. There was nothing.
"No!" He whispered softly, fear racing through him. "Please no!"
"Pacey?" Beth Witter questioned softly as she entered the room. She felt a sharp pain shoot through her heart at the fear she saw written so clearly on her son's face. She didn't know yet exactly what those people had done to her son, but she knew already that if she were allowed even a minute alone with them she could easily kill them. "Pacey," she said again, even more gently, tears filling her eyes.
"Mom?" Pacey questioned uncertainly, as if unable to believe that it was actually her standing in front of him. As if he had dreamed this moment many times, only to have the horror of reality crash down upon him again and again.
Beth Witter moved slowly to the bed, careful to keep her movements small so as not to frighten him. She took his hand gently, careful not to react to the way that he flinched away from her touch. She looked down at his hand first, her eyes then moving up his arm. She flinched inwardly at the bruises and scratches, some bright and new, other's old and faded, that covered them. The burns. The scars. She bit her lip. What had those monsters done to him? What had they done to her baby? "It's okay Pacey," she said, careful to keep the anger out of her voice. Filling her words instead with the love that filled her heart at the sight of him. "You're safe now."
'Safe?' Pacey's mind questioned. He was barely able to keep from scoffing at her...but fear of her reaction to that was enough to keep him quiet. Who was she kidding anyway? He hadn't felt safe in six years. Not since the day that they had taken him and thrown him into the deepest recesses of hell.
Pacey pulled his hand from his mother's and shrank farther against the wall as the door to his room opened once more. John Witter walked into the room, stopping dead in his tracks at the fear on Pacey's face. He wished again that the FBI had granted his request for a few moments alone in that interrogation room... At least they were going to let them take him home almost immediately, insisting only that they were allowed access to him in Capeside. Paul had suggested leaving him in the hospital in Capeside for a while to allow him to get used to the idea of being home. He had also suggested a psychologist. One look at the fear on Pacey's face was enough to convince Mr. Witter that one was needed. What had those monsters done to his son?
Mr. Witter's mouth tightened slightly at the thought of those people. The ones that had done this to his son. Pacey saw the change in his expression immediately and became even more on guard. Mr. Witter noticed this and grimaced slightly, a lump forming in his throat. He cleared his throat slightly before speaking as gently as he could. "How are you Pacey?" Pacey studied his father as if the question was a matter of life and death and Mr. Witter swallowed hard. "You can say whatever you want to Pace. No...no one here is going to hurt you."
Pacey laughed shortly before biting his lip slightly, tears coming to his eyes. These were his parents...His parents! And he had no idea how to act around them. No idea what to say. What to do. He licked his lips slightly and then looked uncertainly from his father to his mother and back again. "I'm..." He started, his voice hoarse from disuse. "I'm...not so good." He looked down at his hands, too afraid to look up. Afraid of what he might see in their faces...Of what he might not see.
Tears filled the eyes of both of his parents at the sound of his voice. It was the first time that they had heard his voice in six years. Nothing prepared them for the sound of it, so lost and frightened. So beaten...
"That's okay," John Witter said softly, moving to his wife's side as she took Pacey's hand in hers once again. He put his arm around him wife and rested his other hand on top of the hand which held Pacey's so tightly. Pacey looked up at them, his face unsure, yet hopeful. "We...we're going to help you through this Pacey. You don't have to be afraid anymore. You don't have to worry. Your mother and I. We're going to take care of you. They'll never get near you again."
Pacey looked at them, wanting to believe him. Wanting to trust the love that he saw in their eyes. But he couldn't. His ability to believe in anything had disappeared a long time ago. And he knew the words for the lie they were, because there was nothing that his parents could do to keep them away. Not when he carried them with him always, deep within his tortured soul.
His parents watched Pacey sadly as the mistrust and doubt swept across his face. They wished that there was something that they could do to make him believe. To help him to trust them. But they could think of nothing and the storm still raged, deep within Pacey's soul.