Author's note: Okay, so I feel bad about the ending to the last chapter--not only because I promised a quick update and took longer than I expected, but because it was a cheap trick. It was... well... like one of those trite things they do in soap operas. Clearly, I've been exposed to too much serialized fiction. So, I'm begging your indulgence and hoping that as you are presumably soap fans, you will forgive me.

Somewhere in the cemetery an alarm sounded. John turned his head in surprise; why was there an alarm here? Then he was sitting bolt up right in bed as it sank in that the blaring noise was his alarm clock. It was a dream. It was 2005 and he was in his room at the Angel Square Hotel. The knowledge that there was something ridiculous about his nightmares didn't make his pulse stop racing. In the week since his conversation with Rex he'd had similar dreams at least three times. Every time he had to talk himself down when he woke. He told himself that Natalie was very much alive and well and probably just waking up herself across town at Llanfair. He fought the impulse to call her and verify this; he'd have a hard time explaining himself. He showered and dressed quickly trying to make the lingering anxiety from the dream fade. He just needed to see her, to convince himself that she was all right. He'd see her when he got to the station and then he'd be fine.

But when he got to the station her desk was empty and so was the coffee pot; a dead give away that she hadn't been there. He told himself she was just running late. It wasn't even that late; Bo wasn't there yet either. An hour later, however, she still wasn't there and part of him began to wonder if the dream had been some kind of warning. After the fifth time he'd walked to her desk to look for her he resolved to call her cell phone. He'd just pretend he had some sort of work question.

Her phone rang four times then kicked into the voicemail. He paced the length of his office a few times; there were any number of explanations. Maybe she had overslept. That would explain her not being at work and not answering her cell phone. But his mind kept dwelling on other types of explanations; she'd been in a car accident, she'd been mugged on her way home from work last night and was lying in some alley, she'd done something to hurt herself. Finally he picked up the phone again and dialed Llanfair. He'd probably wake her up, but he couldn't work if he was this distracted. Besides, if she'd overslept she'd want to know, right? It was almost noon.

The phone rang twice before a woman's voice said, "Llanfair." It was the housekeeper.

"Yes," he said clearing his throat, "this is John McBain, may I speak with Natalie please." Hopefully he sounded professional enough that this really did seem like a work emergency.

Lois hesitated. "Um… Miss Natalie has gone to the hospital."

He murmured a quick, "Thank you" before quickly hanging up the phone. He should have questioned her in more detail. Found out why and in what condition. He had just been so startled by the news… his pulse was racing again. It suddenly occurred to him that Lois had never specified that Natalie had gone to the hospital as a patient; it could be her mother again. He mentally slapped himself for feeling relieved by this. He thought about calling the hospital, but unless it was a police investigation they wouldn't give him any information.

Instead he called dispatch and asked them if they'd received any emergency calls from Llanfair in the last twenty-four hours. "Yes sir," the operator said, "We received a call at 8:27am about a female, mid-twenties found unconscious outside of the house. Victim was taken to the hospital-"

John hung up the phone and reached for his keys without closing his conversation with dispatch. "Damn it, Natalie," he thought, "what have you done to yourself this time?" He knew if she was hurt or sick it was irrational to be angry with her for it, but that didn't mean he was able to stop himself.

He hurried into the hospital, not knowing quite where to look for her. Fortunately it was a small hospital. Just as he was about to ask a nurse he spotted Antonio. He was somewhat surprised to see him there, but the Buchanan and Vega families were close, intertwined, so he supposed it wasn't that strange that he would be here. Seeing him approach Antonio stood up; he looked confused.

"John?" he asked.

"Where is she?" J asked a little more impatiently than he meant to.

Antonio's look of confusion grew. He opened his mouth, about to answer, but just then Natalie emerged from a nearby room looking weary, but more or less all right. She looked surprised to see him as he walked swiftly to her and put a hand on her arm. "You're okay?" he asked, feeling his pulse rate slacken somewhat.

"Yeah," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears, "I'm just a little shaken up, you know."

He studied her face; he was fully aware that he had seen her yesterday, but it felt as though he'd been looking for her for years.

"What are you doing here?" she asked after a moment.

Somehow he thought it better not to admit that he'd spent the morning trying to track her down because of a bad dream. "Dispatch told me there was a call this morning from Llanfair. Unconscious female in her twenties."

"Yeah," Natalie said, "I was on my way to work when I found her. She was so still I thought for a second-" Natalie was fighting back tears, but she regained her composure quickly. "Look my mom's with her now; she's not in any shape to answer questions yet."

John tried not to let his confusion show, "Your mother?"

"Jessica," Natalie said as if he should know this already.

And of course he should; that explained Antonio. He'd never even thought about the fact that there were two women in their twenties residing at Llanfair—his thoughts had gone straight to Natalie. "Jessica's the victim," he repeated, trying very hard not to sound relieved.

"Yeah," Natalie said, shaking her head, confused by his behavior. The she suddenly seemed to understand, "You thought it was me?"

It was a little late for playing it cool, but he'd try to sound as logical as possible. "I called you this morning when you didn't come in, but you didn't answer your cell, so I called Llanfair and the housekeeper said you were at the hospital and then I talked to dispatch…"

"No, it's not me," she said with a shrug. "I wish it was… My phone's in my purse; I dropped it when I found her this morning, it must still be outside." Something about John's eyes as they watched her seemed to unsettle her. She turned to Antonio, "Speaking of which, can I use your phone again? I still haven't gotten a hold of Kevin."

Antonio handed her his cell phone silently and she disappeared down the hall to make the call. Watching her disappear, John turned to Antonio, "So how is she?"

"Severe concussion, three broken ribs, and a fracture in her left wrist, but she'll be okay."

"What happened?" John's eyes widened.

There was something odd about Antonio's expression, like he didn't quite trust the information he was imparting. "She fell out a window."

"How-?"

"We don't know yet," Antonio said before John could even ask how it had happened, "but I'll call you when we know more. If it's, y'know, something we need you guys involved in."

"Yeah," John said trying very hard to regain his composure, "call me anyway; let me know how she's doing."

Antonio fixed his eyes with a stare and seemed almost to smirk, "You could just ask Natalie."

John really hoped he had no visible reaction to her name, "Yeah, I just figure she won't be in to work the next couple days. She'll be busy; don't want to bother her."

"Uh huh," he wasn't imagining it; Antonio was definitely smirking at him.

"What?" John asked.

"If I wasn't worried out of my mind I'd be laughing at you right now man," Antonio said.

John ran a hand through his hair, "Okay, so not the most responsible move failing to get full information on a victim and jumping to the wrong conclusion-"

"Yeah that and…" it was maddening that Antonio was so composed and so clearly enjoying John's lack of composure.

"And?"

"That look on your face when you came running in here? I'm pretty sure that's what I looked like when they called me this morning. I don't know who you two think you're fooling."

"I was concerned-" he began.

"But I somehow doubt you'd have been quite so concerned if you'd known it was Jessica. Or anyone else for that matter."

John looked down, fumbling for the right denial.

"You want some advice buddy?" Antonio asked. Then without waiting for a reply he said, "You don't have forever, so don't wait any longer than you have to."

With that he walked towards the room where Viki Davidson looking as weary and shaken as Natalie, if not worse, emerged. While Antonio and Mrs. Davidson talked, John took the opportunity to slink away. As if he needed reminding that no one stayed with you forever; his subconscious had been reminding him every night since his discussion with Rex.

When did it happen? He wondered. When did he stop seeing Caitlyn's face on every female vic and start seeing Natalie's? Haver? No, then he'd been seeing Caitlyn's face on Natalie. Sometime between then and the Killing Club murders. Between then and Cristian. When Cristian had come back and first started acting erratic, angry, every domestic seemed to originate at Llanfair, every battered face was surrounded by red hair.

So he'd dodged the bullet again. Or she had. But how much longer could they keep it up. Rex's warning and Antonio's advice spun in his head. He was going to have to file them in the back for a few hours though; he did have work to do. This was something he did very well, pushing things out of his thoughts until he had the opportunity to deal with them. The problem was actually confronting them when he had the chance.

Antonio Vega tensed as he came out of Jessica's room to find Todd Manning waiting in the hallway.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

Unconsciously Antonio stood in front of the door, his arms crossed, blocking Manning from entering although he'd shown no inclination to do so. "She's sleeping. Doctor's say she'll be okay. Physically anyway."

"She asleep or unconscious?" Todd asked, not trusting Antonio to put the most accurate spin on things.

"She woke up briefly," Antonio said, "long enough to say she didn't remember what happened and to call you."

"Well if she wants to see me, can I go in?"

Antonio didn't move. "Like I said, she's asleep. I figure you can take the time to answer some questions."

Todd shook his head and smiled that smug smile of his he used when he wanted to be infuriating, "You're not a cop anymore Officer Vega; I don't have to answer your questions."

He tried to push his way into the room, but Antonio blocked his way and pushed him back slightly with a hand to his shoulder.

"Look, I understand that you're enjoying your little game," he said, "but Jessica could have died today and I've got a feeling that you know something that could have stopped that from happening. You know, you keep telling me how bad I am for her, but I would have never sat back and let something like this happen."

"If I'd been able to stop this you don't think I would have?" Todd asked taking step backwards, "And while we're on the subject, weren't you standing right there when she was stabbed last year?"

Antonio didn't answer either question. "Look, I believe that you're trying to help Jessica, but I also think that you're enjoying playing god with her life."

"That's not what it's about," Todd said with half a laugh.

"Well whatever it is, it's gonna stop," Antonio said.

"Not until Jessica says so," Todd tried to push past Antonio again, but Antonio shoved him backwards.

"Oh you want to do this here?" Todd said regaining his balance quickly and raising his arms to the sides.

"Hey!" a voice from behind him called suddenly. Neither of the men would break eye contact so Dr. Michael McBain had to put himself physically between them to get their attention. "What's going on here?"

"Would you kindly tell Mr. Vega to step aside and let me into my niece's room?" Todd said.

Michael hoped neither man noticed that he jumped slightly and glanced in the window to check that it was Jessica and not Natalie. "Guys," he said, "this is not the place-"

"You're right," Antonio said, still keeping his eyes locked with Todd's, "go ahead." Todd brushed past him as he walked into Jessica's room.

Jessica's eyes were closed; there was a soft cast on her left arm. "Just me you can cut the act," Todd said after the door shut behind him. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked at him but didn't say anything.

"Was it Tess?" he asked.

"Must have been," she said.

"I don't get it," Todd sat down beside the bed, "Tess doesn't seem the suicidal type."

"I don't think she was trying to kill herself," Jessica said, "She was trying to climb out the window. I locked her in."

"You locked her in?"

Jessica fingered the blanket with her good hand. "When I go to sleep it's easier for her to take over. She's been running around again; I don't even want to think about what she's been doing, Todd. So sometimes I lock myself in my room at night and then she can't get out in the middle of the night. In the morning I just get someone to let me out; Mom thinks there's something wrong with my door. Anyway, I guess she just found another way out."

"Well she's resourceful," Todd said, "have to give her that. But she could have killed you."

"Yeah," Jessica said, her voice cracking slightly, "of course she leaves me to deal with the pain and injuries. I don't guess I have to worry about her coming out for a little while."

"Can't party too hard with cracked ribs," Todd said. "What have you told everybody?"

"The truth. That I can't remember it." She sighed. "Todd I have to tell them something. Mom, Natalie, Antonio, they're so worried, and they're confused-"

"And you think telling them is going to change that?" Todd said.

Jessica stared at the ceiling. She had no idea.

"Well she bought you some time," he added, "Like you said, she'll just leave you to deal with the pain, and I figure you're pretty safe in the hospital anyway. Take some time to think about it. Let me know what you decide."

Todd rose and left. Jessica closed her eyes again; it was easier to pretend she was sleeping than to keep fending off Antonio. Todd seemed to think that telling him was the worst possible strategy, but her mother's advice indicated that having the support of the man she loved could be the best way of sending Tess away. More importantly, as long as Tess knew things about Jessica's past that Jessica herself didn't know, fighting her was going to be very hard.

He wasn't sure if she was really there for a moment. He'd been walking for a while, trying to process through some of the thoughts in his head and he half thought she must be some image conjured up by his lately overactive subconscious. Maybe he had just willed her to be here. Whatever the case, there she sat, looking almost as much like an angel in the moonlight as the statue she was gazing up at. Her face was tearstained and she held a crumpled tissue in her hand, but she wasn't crying. She was just gazing fixedly on Cristian's angel.

She hadn't noticed him, and somehow he felt like he was walking in on an intimate conversation, but it seemed like not revealing his presence would be more on an intrusion than approaching her. "Natalie?" he said walking over to the bench where she sat. "You okay?"

He sat down next to her, but she didn't respond or break eye contact with the statue.

"Ever since he died, everyone's always told me that Cristian was watching over me. Like a guardian angel."

"Yeah?" he said, sitting next to her.

She continued staring at the angel as if she was only peripherally aware of his presence beside her. "I know it's supposed to make me feel better," she said, "They're trying to comfort me. But I hope they're wrong."

They were wrong of course, not that he could tell her. And not that he thought it would make her feel better for a second to know that Cristian couldn't be looking down on her from heaven because he wasn't dead, he was sitting in a jail cell. "Why don't you want Cristian to be watching you?"

Her breath wavered, "Because if he is, he must be so ashamed of me right now."

He'd knew the feeling; he'd spent a lot of nights wondering how Caitlyn must feel about him. He told her what he was never able to tell himself. "Cristian loved you. I don't think he could ever be ashamed of you."

"Don't be so sure," she said forcefully. Whatever this was she felt very strongly about it. He thought back to the secret she and Rex had seemed to be keeping from him; was this about that?

"Why do you think that?" he asked.

She struggled to speak against the tears she was holding back. "Because my twin sister threw herself out of a window this morning, and I don't know why."

"You're sure Jessica threw herself out of that window?" he asked, genuinely surprised to learn this.

"Her bedroom door was locked from the inside, no one else could have gotten in," she said.

"Any chance it could have been an accident?"

She shook her head. "Not unless she accidentally removed the screen and accidentally climbed out onto the sill."

"Has she said anything about it?"

"She said she can't remember what happened. But she's lying, John. She's hiding something, I can tell that much." She hugged herself tightly and rocked back and forth. "I've been so wrapped up in myself, in my problems; I never realized she was in that much pain."

"Well, you've had a lot going on," he said brushing away a strand of hair that was sticking to her damp cheek.

She flinched at his touch; he tried not to be hurt by this telling himself that she was just trying to shut herself off, it was nothing personal. "It's no excuse. How could I be so self-centered? I'm a terrible sister."

"That's not true," he said.

"Yes, it is," she insisted. "You don't know, John. You don't know how horrible I've been to her. When I first got to Llanview, I hated her. I set out to destroy her life."

John fought the urge to put his arm around her, to comfort her. It was clear that she didn't want to be comforted. "Well, I wasn't here then, but from what I hear you'd just found out that your whole life had been a lie. I'd imagine you were pretty messed up."

"But I blamed Jessica for all of it, and it wasn't her fault. She was just a victim too. But all I could see was that she had the life I was supposed to have. If you knew the things I did to her-"

"But it was this Perkins woman who put you up to it, right? You were just being manipulated-"

"Allison told me to get close to Jessica so I could get a DNA sample. She didn't tell me to get my boyfriend to pretend to have feelings for her or to humiliate her in public. She didn't tell me to push her off a staircase."

"Okay, but as I understand it you two got past that a long time ago," he said.

"It doesn't make it go away," she said biting her lip.

"No," he said, "but it does mean you have to stop beating yourself over it. Jessica wouldn't want you to."

She sat silently for a moment then took a sharp breath in. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Of course," he said searching for her eyes.

"I need you to go away," she said, still refusing to look at him.

"I'm sorry?" he had understood her; he just didn't want to believe that she meant it.

"I'm about to start crying, and I really need to stop doing it on your shoulder."

"Natalie, it's okay," he said, putting a hand on her arm.

She brushed him aside gently. "No, it's not. Look I need to start relying on myself okay. I need to start helping other people with their problems not throwing mine onto them. Or, more to the point, onto you."

"Do I get a say in this?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Look John, I know you feel responsible for me, but it's not fair to you." She added softly, "And it's really not fair to Evangeline."

He looked at her. Was it really possible that she didn't know about his last fight with Evangeline? He hadn't told her, or anyone for that matter, but he somehow assumed they would know. "I don't think Evangeline cares anymore," he said.

"No matter what she told you John, she cares," she said squeezing her eyes shut.

"I haven't talked to Evangeline in a week," he said.

She looked into his face for the first time. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. See what I mean? I don't pay any attention to what people around me are going through."

"It's no big thing. I'm okay with it," he said truthfully. "I've known it was coming for a while. You know when you spend so long dreading something, sometimes getting it over with is a relief."

"Still," she said, "I didn't help the two of you."

"Hey," he said, "You didn't do anything. And the only reason you didn't know was that I didn't want you to. And if Jessica had wanted to share what was going on, she would have."

"But I should have known. I'm just so wrapped up in myself-"

"Okay, you wanna be hard on yourself for not knowing Jess was in trouble? What about Viki? What about Antonio? Do you blame them for not being able to prevent this?"

He recognized the look on her face; it said that she wasn't ready to let herself off the hook. Rex was right; she could find a way to blame herself for anything. "John, you don't owe me anything. Just go," she pleaded.

"Would you, if it was me?" he asked.

"I never listen to you," she said smiling weakly, "you know that."

"That I do," he said. "You know what you need?"

"Therapy?" she suggested.

"Well, I guess," he said. "I was gonna suggest a night of watching bad movies and eating unhealthy food, but whatever."

She let out a breath in some semblance of a laugh. "Come on," he said standing up, offering her his hand and cocking his head towards the walkway leading towards the hotel.

"Where?" she asked blinking up at him in surprise.

"My place," he said matter-of-factly.

"I don't think so," she said, recoiling from his hand.

He shrugged, "Well if you think Viki has a better collection of bad movies or assortment of junk food and won't mind us dropping in."

"You have a collection of bad movies?" she sniffled.

"No," he shook his head, "but Michael does and he's at work and his lock is easy to pick."

"Really?"

"And I'd appreciate you not telling Roxy about that," he added.

"I won't," she promised.

"So come on," he repeated.

She sighed. "Okay." As they walked she added, "Thank you, John."

"Well my motives are not completely selfless," he admitted.

"They're not?" her brow furrowed.

"I need some more grease in my diet, you know," he said. And maybe keeping Natalie close would keep the nightmares away. Even if it only lasted one night.

He had not intended to fall asleep. He didn't even think it would be possible, but he woke up to static on the TV and Natalie's head on his shoulder. She had fallen asleep halfway into Army of Darkness and he'd justified not waking her by telling himself that she needed the rest. It was better than admitting how much he liked the gentle weight of her sleeping form which had shifted against him. Her face looked so peaceful, so unlike its appearance earlier that evening…

It was 5:00am. He should wake her up; let her get home. Instead he tilted her on to the bed, fully meaning to get up, to move to the couch where they should have been anyway. He had been the one to point out that in its current position the television was easier to see from the bed. He'd even insisted eating greasy chips in bed was part of the 'therapy.' It was asking for trouble and he knew it, but he had done it.

He didn't get up. He couldn't make himself move away from her. No matter how much he knew it was the better thing to do, better for both of them. Instead he leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips.

Okay, now stop it. Get up. Go take a shower. Just leave her alone, he told himself.

But he didn't; he deepened the kiss, just slightly, and suddenly he realized she was kissing him back. He finally managed to move back enough to look at her face again. Her eyelids fluttered open.

"Hi," she mumbled groggily, looking up at him in confusion.

To be continued.