A/N: Look! I didn't forget. Well, I did. I admit. And then I found all the stuff I'd written before and I've got, well, a few chapters written up, so I promise there will be more. I'll try not to let it lag again. Really. Forgive me?

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned Jack and Doug, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Dawson's Creek either.

Chapter 3: The Worst of It's Passed

Jack preceded Doug into his apartment, standing awkwardly off to the side as Doug tossed his duffel bag onto a chair. Turning the light on, Doug looked around, then glanced back at Jack. "You're still injured… you can sleep in my room, and I'll take the couch. Tomorrow we can talk to Pacey and figure out what to do from now on."

"Talk to Pacey and figure out what?" he heard his younger brother's sleepy voice and saw the hall light flip on. Pacey came into the living room, almost tripping over his own feet, clad in nothing but his boxer shorts, and blinked. "Jack? What are you doing here, man?"

"Had a… a little problem," Jack stammered.

"Someone broke into his place, probably looking to finish what they started," Doug supplied. "I thought it would be safer if he stayed here for a while."

Pacey blinked again. "Uh… okay. I'm…" he jerked a hand toward his bedroom. "I'm just… I'm gonna go back to sleep, kay?"

Despite everything, Doug laughed. "Yeah, Pace. Sorry we woke you."

He waved them off. "Yeah, yeah, no problem," he mumbled and shuffled off.

Doug shook his head, then looked over at Jack, who looked to be some combination of amused and embarrassed. "I really don't want to impose on you."

Shaking his head, Doug shot him a look. "We've been over this, five times at your place and another eight on the way here. Your place is not safe, Jack. This is. It's only until we catch whoever's after you."

Jack frowned, but finally nodded. "I do appreciate it. I don't want you to think I don't. I just… I don't like having to rely on people like this. I don't like to take advantage of people."

"Have you changed at all since high school?" Doug asked suddenly. He and his younger brother hadn't exactly been the best of friends when Pacey was still in school, but he'd picked up on a few things. Listening to Jack now reminded him of a lot of what he'd heard from Pacey then. A second after the words came out, though, he wished he could take them back.

Jack's face became a dark mask and he turned away. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "You have no idea."

Doug shifted uncomfortably, sensing that there was something he wasn't entirely aware of, if at all. "People change a lot, even in a year or two," he said quietly.

"You have no idea," Jack repeated.

-------------------------

Jack rolled over in bed, wincing at the pain in his ribs, and looked around Doug's bedroom. Being in herereminded him of the little crush he'd developed in high school. He'd never told Pacey, but he'd kind of liked Doug. He'd never expected to end up in the other man's bed, though. And definitely not like this.

He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but opened them again almost instantly. He'd known he wasn't going to fall asleep at home and now every time he closed his eyes, he could hear the sounds of his attacker as if the man was actually in Doug's living room right now.

The fact that the Sheriff was sleeping on the couch, his gun six inches from his hand, should have been a consolation, but it wasn't. What if Doug slept a little too soundly? What if his assailant, having lost the lead pipe, had a gun himself? What if Doug just didn't move quickly enough?

What if Pacey got up at the wrong time?

That was a new thought. He'd been worried about imposing, but he hadn't thought before about the possibility of either Doug or Pacey getting hurt.

"Terrific," he said aloud. "One more thing for me to freak myself out about." He rolled onto his side and punched his pillow. Well, Doug's pillow.

There was a knock at the door and Jack jumped a foot off the bed. "Jack?" he heard Pacey's voice through the door.

"Yeah, Pacey?"

"You okay?" His friend opened it slowly, sticking his head in.

"Yeah. Did I wake you again? Sorry."

"Nah. I couldn't get back to sleep." Pacey came into the room all the way, shutting the door behind him, and sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands. "You okay?" he asked again.

"I don't know." Jack sighed, laying back down. "I'm scared."

"Well, you should be." Pacey frowned. "I've never seen Doug this worried about something. I mean, I've seen him serious…" Pacey rolled his eyes. "Boy have I seen him serious. But… y'know, if you coulda seen his face when you called tonight… At least, I assume it was when you called, because he bolted out of here so fast I expected him to take the wall with him."

Jack sat up snickered at the image, picturing Doug that worked up. He'd watched the brothers together; he'd seen the kind of stress Pacey put Doug through. He could imagine Doug getting that strung out over Pacey – hell, he'd seen it firsthand – but not over him.

Of course, Doug had always been devoted to his work, which probably explained why he was taking this so seriously. "Doug's a good cop."

"He's a good guy."

"There was a time I'd have fallen over to hear you say that," Jack replied, and Pacey nodded.

"There was a time I'd have fallen over to hear myself say that," he retorted, but grinned.

They sat in companionable silence for a while until finally Pacey broke it. "I mean it, Jack. Are you okay? I mean, aside from being scared…"

He trailed off, and it finally dawned on Jack what he was trying to ask. "Yeah. I'm… yeah. Can't say I haven't thought about it." He rolled his eyes. "Boy have I thought about it. But I'm okay for now."

"If, if you're ever not, you know you can call me, whenever. Right?" Pacey looked anxious and Jack wondered if his friend honestly thought that he didn't know he could call him.

"Of course I do. And I will. But I'm really doing okay." Jack paused. "I haven't even taken the pain pills they gave me."

Pacey raised an eyebrow. "Yeesh. Even Dougie isn't that uptight."

"Yeah, well, your brother isn't…" he trailed off, his face flushing, and glanced toward the door for a moment before looking back to Pacey, who had his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just… if you're hurting, man…"

"The worst of it's passed."

"Jack."

"It is!"

Pacey regarded him doubtfully but finally shrugged. "Okay, if you say so."

"I do. Look, Pacey, I'm not completely healed, and I admit it would kill my back – and possibly the rest of me – to try to sleep on the couch, which is the only reason I took Doug up on his offer. But there's no way I'm taking anything addictive unless I absolutely have to. I've come too far to take a chance like that."

Finally, his friend smiled at him. "Glad to hear you say that. Really."

"You sound like you didn't expect to."

"Well, there was a time I wouldn't have."

"And now?"

Pacey's face was serious. "Like you said, you've come pretty damn far, Jack."

"If you hadn't been there…"

"Someone else would have found you."

"I'm not talking about in the parking lot, Pace. I'm talking about everything before that, while I was still in New York…" he trailed off. "I don't think I could've done it without you."

"You could have."

"I don't know. It was hard even with you and Andie and Jen…"

"Everything's hard. Just means it's worth it."

Jack chuckled. "You? Waxing philosophical?"

"You aren't the only one who's come a long way."

Jack leaned back and rolled over, then rolled back and sat up. "Doug asked me if I'd changed at all since high school. Kinda caught me by surprise."

"Shouldn't. Doug's got a pretty good eye; he watched us like a hawk. I always thought he was just looking for something to hold over my head. God knows he did that enough. But he was really just trying to keep all of us out of trouble."

"All of us?" Jack asked.

"Okay, me." Pacey grinned. "It worked, too."

Jack snickered. "Sometimes," he pointed out, and Pacey's grin widened. He shoved Pacey in the shoulder. "Get some sleep, man."

"You too. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'll fall asleep. Eventually."

-------------------------

Jack walked out of the police station a step in front of Doug, stopping next to the Sheriff's car. Sagging against it, he raked a hand through his hair. "Who knew filling out paperwork could be so…"

"Draining?" Doug asked him. "If it's any consolation, most victims have a hard time when it comes time to file the report on what happened."

"Don't call me that."

Doug started at his tone, confusion in his eyes. "Call you what?"

"A… victim. Don't call me that."

"Jack, it's just a term. We have perpetrators and victims. It doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does," Jack said quietly. He shivered and shook his head. "Do you think you could drop me off at your place? I don't feel like going to school."

"Saying that, you ever feel like you're ten years old again?"

"All the time." Jack finally cracked a smile and Doug hid his own.