A/N: That was kind of strange. I didn't check my reviews for about an hour and all of a sudden I had 5 more. O.o Now if only that would happen when I first post, and am most anxious to see what y'all think. :-P Updating around 9pm is rather inconvenient like that.

Second to last chapter… wow. O.o it went by fast. Lol. You get to read the last of "Past" (well, sort of. You'll see what I mean next chapter.) It sort of ends where the Present started way back in the Prologue.

I'm not terribly good at writing violence. Hence why most of the violent things that happen, you don't really see. And I prefer not to write about sex. Which, to answer the questions people have been asking, is what Suze and Jesse did "afterward" at the end of the last chapter. :-P Bring on the lemon, indeed. It's more implied than anything, and I'm telling you this now, because it's important for the end of this chapter, and our last view of Paul.

Random background: O.o the cop mentioned in the first part of Past was apart of a former variation of this story, in which he had a much bigger role than he does here. When I changed it all, his part in the story just sort of made things too complicated/messy, and it didn't fit right. :-P But I kind of liked him, so he has a short cameo, anyway.

And as a completely random note: Oh, boy. My dad has taken to learning French. Feel free to save me—please.

Chapter 13

Past:

Saturday night patrolling was usually eventful—drunk drivers on the road, parties that were getting too rowdy, among other things.

Officer Dan Hudson turned down another street, glancing periodically at the clock. He was only on duty for another half hour. He was more than ready to go home after a long night.

At that moment, he spotted someone stumbling down the street. He shook his head. Another drunk, no doubt. At least this one had had the sense not to try to drive.

As he neared the figure, he—or she, Dan couldn't tell just yet—suddenly collapsed. Dan pulled up along aside and got out of the squad car. Moving around the car, he knelt down and shook their shoulder. It was a young woman, he realized. "Miss?" She was lying on her side, facing away from him. He gently turned her over and finally got a clear view of her.

"Holy Shit!"

It had been a very long day.

Jesse sat at his desk in the tiny office they had given him when he took the job at the hospital. Joe had talked him into finally getting out of the apartment and looking for a job aside from the one at the Historical Society that he had held for the past four years.

Glancing at his watch, he thought that it was about time to head home. Unless there was an emergency in the next ten minutes, he could go home, eat something, and head for bed. The way his brain was functioning at the moment, it sounded heavenly.

He hadn't seen Susannah in weeks. He didn't know how she was, he didn't know what was happening to her—hell, he couldn't even be sure she was still alive. He hoped, of course. He couldn't do much else except hope.

Right as Jesse was starting to stand to go home, his office—well, it was more of a closet with a desk, at this point. Given more time, he would hopefully have a larger office—door opened and Joe stepped in.

Shuffling the papers on his desk, and shrugging off his lab coat, Jesse said, "What is it, Joe?"

"She's here." Joe's voice sounded strange—a little strained.

Jesse glanced up at him. Becoming a little concerned at the look on Joe's face—and the fact that he had turned an odd shade of green—Jesse came out from behind his desk. "Are you all right?"

Joe ignored his question. "She's here."

"Who's here?"

"Suze."

A/N: The next part takes place awhile after the Present in the last chapter. O.o assume it's something like a few weeks to a month later.
Present:

I sat on the closed toilet seat, staring at the wall. Oh, God. This was one of the things I had been afraid of. The more the memories returned—and they hadn't all returned yet. There were still things that were foggy; though I have the feeling it's probably better that way—the more I had started to wonder if I might not find out later that there consequences for it all that I couldn't imagine.

I pressed a hand over my stomach, feeling horribly nauseous. I'd been feeling that a lot lately. Though, now it was more from dread than anything.

Not of what I'd end up getting out of it, of course. That I knew I couldn't really dread—at least not without feeling like a horrible person—but what had caused it all.

I left the bathroom, and went to grab my coat. I was glad that Jesse wasn't home right then, because if he had been he would have tried to talk me out of going. But I needed to go. I needed closure. I needed to know.

Paul was contemplating the merits of getting drunk.

He'd never done it before. He had contemplated it a million times since he had sent Suze away. He thought about it every time he started to wonder what might be happening to her right that instant. Was she okay? Was she with Jesse? Had she healed—mentally, physically, emotionally? He tortured himself with those questions, sat in her cell for hours and wondered if he hadn't destroyed himself in his attempts to control her.

He had waited for the police to come. Surely she would send them, the minute she could. He wouldn't blame her. Even if she didn't, Jesse would now, for sure.

But the cops never came. Paul waited for two months, not even bothering to leave the first place they would undoubtedly look. So he just stayed where he was.

He had gone down to the liquor store and bought the most interesting thing he could find—some Greek thing called "ouzo" which smelled strongly like black liquorish. He'd poured himself a glass and never touched it. So much for that.

"Paul."

Jerking his gaze to the doorway, he saw Suze standing there, watching him warily. "Susie," he said softly, almost afraid to move, in case she was just a crazy hallucination.

She stepped farther into the room, glancing around. Her eyes fell on the glass next to him. "Are you drunk?"

Paul smiled ironically. "I wish." He motioned at the glass. "Haven't been able to even try the stuff, yet." She didn't believe him, he could tell. Of course not. When had she had reason to believe anything that came out of his mouth? He sighed. "Why are you here, Suze?" When she didn't answer right away, he said, "Are the cops waiting outside, ready to take me away the minute I try something?" He laughed harshly. "You can tell them they don't need to bother. I'll come out there in a minute on my own."

"The cops aren't here."

Paul raised his eyebrows at her. "No? Then why did you come here? To taunt me?" He waved a hand. "Go ahead."

Suze bit her lip. He waited, watching her. "I need to ask you something. When you… when I… when I was here," she finally got out, "did you and I…" She was pressing her hand to her stomach. Paul watched her as she struggled to get her question out. Finally it dawned on him.

"Suze," he said gently, "if you're pregnant, I didn't do it to you."

She stared at him. "Are you sure?"

Paul smiled grimly. "Trust me, I'm sure. If you trust nothing else I say, trust that." He shrugged. "If you don't believe me, you can always get a blood test after it's born."

She nodded absently, though she still looked skeptical. "Okay." That was all. Just "Okay." She turned to go.

"Wait, Suze." He saw her stiffen, and she turned back to look at him. Paul reached into the drawer built into the table next to his chair and pulled something out.

Suze's eyes widened when she saw what he was holding. "No."

Paul held the crystal out to her. "I don't want it anymore," he said, his hand shaking just from holding it. "I don't want to see it. I want to forget it exists."

She stared at his outstretched hand. "You think I want it? What would I do with it?"

"I don't care. Use it, destroy it, bury it. It doesn't matter to me. Do whatever you want to it."

She stood there for a long moment, not moving, just staring at it. "Please," he finally forced out.

"Fine." She finally took the crystal from him and turned to leave.

"Suze." She looked back at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. You'll never know how much."

I think that my favorite part about being with Jesse was the cuddling—honestly. Not that I didn't fully enjoy everything else—I'd be lying if I told you otherwise—but there was something entirely enjoyable about being held in his arms, and just laying there, sometimes talking, sometimes just enjoying being together.

"Jesse?"

He kissed my hair. "Yes, querida?"

"I…umm… have something to tell you." I turned so I was looking up at him. "You have to promise you won't be mad or anything, okay?"

Jesse pushed a strand of hair out of my face. "I won't be angry."

I took a deep breath. I couldn't really be sure how he was going to react. "Jesse… I'm pregnant." At his startled look, I hurried to add, "It's yours, I know it is." Not quite true. I hoped it was his. I wanted to believe Paul, but after everything, who wouldn't be reluctant to trust what he said?

Jesse touched my belly, looking down at it for a long moment. Then he met my gaze. "It doesn't matter."

"What?" I stared at him stupidly.

He leaned forward and kissed me. "It doesn't matter. If he's mine or not. He's ours."

I smiled tremulously. "Or she."

"What?"

"You said 'he.' It could be a girl."

Jesse smiled, and kissed me again. "Or she."

A/N: I was afraid it was going to be short… :-D yeeey for it being… about as long as the rest of the chapters!

Things that distracted me while writing this chapter: dinner, a snack when it turned out I hadn't had enough for dinner, my dad and stepmom buying plane tickets (:-P Toronto, here I come), Dante's Inferno (pilfered from my friend), reading reviews from the lovely, wonderful, stupendous Pens in potatoes (who has made my review count go from 121 to… well, I'd give you the exact number, not all my reviews are currently showing up.) O.o can I hire you as my own personal reviewer? Lol. Please?