Chapter Eighteen: Father May I Run Away?

Andrew

I couldn't find Jesse anywhere. As soon as he ran from me, he vanished. He didn't go to the park, and I had no clue where he could've gone at all. He had Gracie with him, so it wasn't like he could go to the movies, or really go shopping anywhere. And what else was there to do in L.A.?

At first I thought that maybe he went to New York City, but he has nowhere to go. Now that we've graduated, and Rex is gone, Jesse has no home. And his cell phone was off, so I couldn't call him.

I was about to drive around again to look for him when Rory came in the front door. He looked upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, forgetting about my own problems for a moment.

"Marco left," he sighed, tearing up. "I thought we were just getting somewhere."

"Where'd he go?"

"Back home. To Canada." He flopped down on the couch, looking like a train had just hit him. Poor guy.

"If it makes you feel any better, Jesse left too," I said, joining him.

"It doesn't, but thanks for trying. He probably went with Marco though. I ran into him and told him where Marco was—he asked. And then he rushed off…probably to the airport."

"Oh," was all I said. It was all I could say. Jesse went to Canada with his ex-boyfriend, who just so happened to be my ex-boyfriend too. It couldn't get any worse than this.

"Why don't we go?" Rory asked, sitting up quickly. "We can find them, and get them back."

"No," I replied, shaking my head sadly. "I have to give him his space or he'll probably choose to stay with Marco."

"He wouldn't do that," my brother insisted, trying to make me feel better. "He loves you."

"I really hope so." We sat in silence for a few more minutes before deciding to go our separate ways. This year had really torn me and my brothers further apart, rather than bringing us closer together. We just didn't have anything to say to each other anymore. "I need to go find Ellie," I said as I stood up.

"You won't be able to," Rory told me, on his way to the kitchen.

"Why not?"

"She went with them."

I groaned and trudged up the stairs. Okay, so this day could get worse. I sulked in my room for awhile until Lola suddenly appeared. At least I still had my kitten.

Nate

The house was quiet, but Tyler and I weren't. It seemed like our sex got louder by the day. There was always some new technique we tried out, and we had a lot of fun.

But that didn't change the fact that when we kissed, I felt nothing. He didn't mean as much to me as Craig had. Or Thomas, for that matter.

And to think that in a year, I went from being in love with my best friend, who would never love me back, to loving a boy who physically hurt me, to screwing around with a teacher who raped me, and finally, on to trying to love a boy who just so happened to be my drug dealer.

I rolled away from Tyler and stared up at the ceiling, my body shaking and covered in sweat. He had done something similar to a move Kelly had used on me before, which brought on severe flashbacks and a terrible headache. It wasn't his fault; he obviously didn't know what Kelly did to me.

It wasn't until Tyler left the room for a shower (he asked me to join him, but I declined) that I realized the headache wasn't from him. I hadn't had any pills in two days. I got up and rummaged through Tyler's dresser, but found nothing. He emerged from the bathroom as I was checking his bag. Empty.

"What are you doing?" he asked, walking into the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I need some pills. I don't even care what kind they are, just give me some." I told him.

"I'm sorry Nate. But I'm all out. I haven't got any new contacts out here." He shrugged and walked over to the bed, kissing me. "Besides, I thought you didn't need them to be with me."

It was true; I didn't need them for Tyler. I just needed to make the pounding in my head go away.

"Headache," I explained. "I know you have a few somewhere. Please Ty, just this once?" I asked—scratch that—begged.

"You need to quit," he said. But I wasn't listening. I gently pushed him back onto the bed and pulled his towel off. I was lowering my head, about to pleasantly coax him into giving me some, and he pushed me away. I got angry. How could he refuse sexual favors from me?

"What's wrong with you?" I shouted. "Are you gonna be that foolish? I know you want it!" I snapped.

"I love you."

We both paused. He had his towel covering himself, but was still lying back on the bed. I was over him, my head pounding still.

"What?" I asked, making sure I heard him right.

"I said I love you. And I don't want you doing this anymore. You're going to fuck up your life like I already have with my own," he said, sitting up.

"Wow, my dealer is telling me to quit. How interesting," I snorted, backing away from him.

"No. Your boyfriend is asking you to quit. Do this for yourself Nate. You have to."

"Fuck you!" I yelled, shaking my head.

"What's going on?" I heard someone ask from the hallway. It was Theresa.

"I'm breaking up with Tyler, that's what!" I screamed at her. She made a face and left in a hurry, giving us the privacy we needed.

"What?" he asked. He looked heartbroken, but I ignored it. I also ignored the way my stomach was flipping around.

"I'm sick of your shit Tyler. You've been feeding my addiction for as long as I can remember. And now you're pushing some 'I love you' bullshit on me because you want me to stop? What the fuck is that all about?" I asked. He looked like he was going to cry.

"It's not bullshit," he whispered, finding some clothes and pulling them on. "I love you and I want you to get help. I found a rehab center…"

"Get the fuck out of my room!" I yelled, interrupting him. "Get the fuck out of my room, and get the FUCK out of my life!" I screamed the last word at the top of my lungs.

Tyler just walked out of the room and was gone, without a single word or last glance.

I felt my body start to shake again, and bent over to throw up all over the carpet.

Jesse

I couldn't stay there, in that house with Andrew. He'd been lying to me all this time. He only wanted me because I looked just like his old boyfriend who died. His old boyfriend who was my half brother. I had a brother that I never knew about, who died before I got to meet him.

With all of this crap piled up, I suddenly understood why Andrew was always cutting up his arms and legs and chest. It was his outlet; his way to get rid of the pain in his heart. And now he was causing me my own pain.

I would never cut myself, mainly because I wouldn't want the scars. But I also don't think I could cause that kind of physical pain to myself. So I lit up a cigarette and smoked for the first time in a very long time. Then I smoked another one, and another. And then half the pack was gone. By that time, Marco took them away from me and threw them out the window.

Yeah, I'm with Marco. And Ellie. When Rory told me that they were going back to Canada for a little while, I got to the airport as fast as I could. As soon as I got there, I told Marco what happened, and asked him if he knew about it. He didn't, which at least made me feel a little better. It let me know that I wasn't the last one to find out about it.

"You're going to kill us all with that," Marco said, talking about my smoking. "Especially her." He pointed to Gracie, who was in between us in her car seat.

I crossed my arms over my chest and decided to act like a little kid. Now that I'd started smoking again, I'd probably be really irritable when I didn't have my cigarettes.

"Don't let him get to you like that," Ellie said from the front seat. "You can't make Andrew's actions let you forget about all the hard work you did to quit smoking. It's ridiculous," she lectured.

"Well, your pep talk obviously came too late," I growled at her. See, it was already starting. I turned my attention to my daughter to try and make myself feel a little better. I couldn't believe she was already a year old. We'd had a small party at Andrew's house for her, but thinking about that made me think about Andrew.

I looked away from her and stared out the window. That was when I felt one of her chubby little arms grasp onto me. And that was when she said her very first word.

"Dada!" she squealed, squeezing onto my arm.

"Did you guys hear that?" I asked, turning back to her. "Say it again baby."

She stared at me, blinking and smiling. Okay, so she didn't say it when I asked, but she still said it. I kissed her nose and tickled her, bringing out a new batch of giggles and squeals.

"I love you baby," I told her, ignoring the other people I shared the taxi with.

"Dada," she smiled at me as she said it, almost like she knew that she had just lifted a huge weight off of my chest.

Tyler

"I need your help," I said to Andrew as I approached him. He was sulking by the pool, letting his feet dangle into the water. "And Rory and Theresa too," I added.

"What could I possibly help you with?" he asked, sighing and pulling his feet out of the water.

"Nate," I said, just as Theresa was walking out of the house.

"What about Nate?" she asked, instantly horning in on my conversation. I didn't mind. This would take some convincing.

"He needs our help with Nate," Andrew told her, finally standing up.

"Sorry, but I won't help you get him back. I knew it was a bad idea for him to be with you in the first place," she said, rolling her eyes.

"What was a bad idea?" I heard Rory ask as he came from around the side of the house. Good. At least all of them were here.

"Look, let's cut the crap and get to the real problem," I blurted out. They all just stared at me, waiting. "This has nothing to do with the fact that Nate just broke up with me," I said, glaring at Theresa.

"When did that happen? I feel so lost," Andrew said. I shot my glare at him instead, and he immediately shut his mouth.

"He has a serious problem," I continued. "And he has to go to rehab."

"He'll only go if he wants to," Rory piped up. He surprised me with what he said. "It's the pills, isn't it?" he asked. I nodded my head and Theresa butt in.

"What? What pills?" she asked, suddenly looking confused.

"You mean you haven't noticed all the pills he's been popping lately?" Andrew asked her. "He is your brother," he added.

"It's not just lately," I said, bringing all the attention back to me. "Nate's been addicted for almost two and a half years now," I confessed.

"How do we help him? We can't really force him to go, can we?" Theresa asked.

"I have a plan…" I started, making sure they were all paying close attention.

Ellie

The cab ride from the airport to my house must have been the longest ride of my life. I kept thinking about Thomas, and how much I missed him. When Marco told me he was coming back home, I decided that I had to go with him. I had to see my old friends and my mother one last time before I moved. Marco and I were going to university with Andrew, and then I planned to move to New York City. It had really grown on me.

I wondered if my dad ever came home when Marco and Jesse arguing tore me away from my thoughts.

"You can't run away from your problems Jesse," Marco said, trying to reason with him.

"You're doing the same thing," Jesse pointed out.

"And how would you know that?"

"Rory's the one who told me where to find you," he said. "I could tell by the look on his face that your running away had something to do with him."

"That's none of your business," Marco said, turning away from him.

"Will you two just stop?" I asked, turning around to glare at them.

At that moment, a car slammed right into the taxi on Jesse's side.

None of us had even seen it coming.

The car rolled upside down and I hit my head on the window. Then everything went black.

Rory

Tyler told us his plan. It was an okay one, but all of us were afraid that it wouldn't work.

I did my part, bringing Nate down to the living room so I could get him out of his room. Tyler was supposed to go up and pack clothes for Nate. He said to give him twenty minutes.

"Let's go on a walk," I suggested.

"No thanks," Nate answered, rather gloomy.

"What's wrong?" Maybe I could get him to talk with me for twenty minutes. I hoped so.

"I don't want to talk about it," he answered. Maybe not.

"How about some TV?" I asked. Please work, please work.

"Sure, why not," he shrugged. Yes!

We sat down and I turned Fuse on. I watched Nate intently; he was staring at the screen, pretty much hypnotized. Geez, he's the one that broke up with Tyler, but he was acting like it was the other way around.

A half hour later, nothing had happened. Andrew was supposed to come in to tell Nate that he had to bring Tyler to the airport, and that he was going back to New York. I sighed and waited, while Nate kept on watching music videos.

Finally, Andrew came into the house with an annoyed look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked, knowing full well what he was going to say. I turned the TV off to get Nate's attention directed away from it.

"Hey…I was watching that!" he protested.

"He wants to talk to you," I said, pointing to Andrew.

"Tyler's going back to New York," he told us. Well, he was really only telling Nate, since I already knew. Nate snorted from his place next to me.

"So?"

"So…you're coming to the airport."

"No, I'm not," he argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, you are. I have to go because I don't want him drinking everything in the limo. And I'm not going alone. So both of you are going, or he's staying here," Andrew explained.

"Whatever," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

Nate finally agreed, not wanting Tyler to remain in L.A. We all went out to the limo to find him already in it, looking away from us and out the window. The bags must have already been in the trunk.

The ride was a long one, and Nate dozed, that being the only thing to do. We finally got to our intended destination, exchanging worried glances. We weren't so sure how this would turn out.

Andrew got out on one side, Tyler on the other. While Tyler got the bags out of the trunk, I woke Nate up and told him to get out. He did, but he completely freaked out.

"What the fuck is this?" he yelled, staring at the building in front of him.

"It's rehab," Andrew said.

"No shit. Why the FUCK are we here?" he yelled.

"You have to get better," Tyler said, reaching out to take his hand. Nate pulled away from him and screamed.

"You fucking piece of shit! You made them think I need help when I don't! Get the fuck away from me!"

None of us had heard Nate swear that much. Just at the beginning of this year, he was quiet, and never had a boyfriend. But now, he had bounced through guys one after the other, and took so many drugs that he was all fucked up. I felt sorry for him. So I grabbed onto his arm and started to drag him toward the building.

Tyler got on the other side and helped me. Nate struggled against, us while Andrew stayed a little behind, carrying his bags. By the time we got up to the front entrance, Nate had given up. He fell limp in our arms and let us drag him. It was either because he was planning to trick us, or he'd grown weak from his small amount of withdrawal.

We got to the main desk and started to check him in. He turned to Tyler, with a look of hate and fear in his eyes.

"I can't check out whenever I want you know," he spat.

"You won't if you want to get better," Tyler replied.

"I hate you."

"I love you," Tyler told him without faltering. He must have been having such a hard time. "When you brought me here with you, I decided to get clean, and stay clean. I did that, and I'll stay this way. I was going to tell you once I ran out of things to keep you happy, which just so happened to be this morning. It was never about me Nate; it was about the drugs. But now you have a chance to change that. And you'll thank me for it in the end."

After that little speech, Nate didn't say anything at all. He simply leaned forward and signed the papers that the woman was handing him. When he straightened back up, Tyler was there, kissing him.

He didn't fight him off or pull away; he simply let Tyler kiss him, and kissed him back. It would be their last moment together. I almost felt guilty watching it. But then it reminded me of that same moment that Marco and I shared; at the hospital that day. And I was determined to make sure that wasn't our last moment.

A nurse came to show Nate to his room, and started explaining rules and regulations to him. We all watched until they were out of sight.

He never looked back.

"Where to now?" Andrew asked. Both of us felt sorry for Tyler, and suddenly wished we were nicer to him in the past.

"The airport," Tyler replied, slowly walking away. He did look back, even though he knew Nate was already gone.

Thomas

I walked into Andrew's house, sweating and tired, after a three mile run. It was something I used to do every morning, before Theresa. I figured I should go out and get some real exercise, but it had taken me longer than it used to.

I came back to an empty house. Everyone was gone, so I took a quick shower and pulled on some boxers before going back downstairs to find something to eat. When I walked through the living room, I noticed that the door was open. Guess I forgot to close it.

I closed it and locked it before turning around to head to the kitchen. Someone was standing right there, and shoved me backwards, pushing me straight into the door. I gasped and got the wind knocked out of me when I felt the doorknob hit my spine.

It was so stupid of me. I felt like I was in a movie, and I was the dumbass that didn't realize someone came in that opened door; that I hadn't left it closed.

And I knew who it was, as soon as I felt his hands pushing against my chest.

"What are you doing here…Dad?" I choked the words out as I struggled to completely catch my breath. Why did it have to be now, when I was tired from running?

"It took me long enough to find you," he said, keeping me pinned to the door. I felt the stabbing pain of the doorknob pressing into my back, but I had to focus. If I didn't, he would beat the shit out of me and probably leave me for dead. No one was around to see it happen.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I came to drag your ass home," he said, grinning at me. "But I'll sure as hell have to teach you a lesson first."

Before I could react, before I could move out of the way, I felt his fist connect with my jaw, and tasted blood. He punched me in the same spot three times before I found my bearings and pushed him with all of my weight, making him fall back enough to free myself.

The action didn't help me much, because all I could focus on was the pain in my back and my jaw. He kicked me in my left knee and I heard a sickening crack as I went down by the couch. Grabbing me by my shoulders, he shook me until I became too disoriented to even think about fighting back. I felt dizzy, and I knew he would win.

I expected this moment to come, and I'd been planning for it. I had to come back to my senses and work out my plan, or he'd kill me. My hands searched the floor for anything that I could use as a weapon against him. I finally felt something hard under the couch. It was just a book, but it would have to do.

Just as he was coming at me again, I pulled the book up and slammed it into his head. He stumbled, and fell back. I knew he wouldn't be down for long, so I used my time wisely. Struggling to get to my feet, I found that I couldn't stand on the leg he had kicked, much less walk on it.

I limped as quickly as I could into Andrew's dad's office. I explored every inch the house in the time we had been there, preparing myself. I knew that in that office, in the top desk drawer, there was something that would help me.

I opened the drawer just as my dad made it to the doorway.

"You little shit! You think you can beat me?" he asked.

I waited until he was a foot away to swing my arm up and point the gun in his face. He stopped instantly, waiting.

"Tommy, put the gun down and fight me like a real man," he spat.

"Fuck you!" I yelled.

That was all it took. Gun or no, he charged at me. I wasn't really going to shoot him; my only intention was to scare him. But as he threw himself over the desk at me, I heard the sound that would never escape my ears for the rest of my life. I don't remember pulling the trigger at all. The look on his face was one that I'd never seen before, and would never see again. Shock, horror, pain.

He was lying on the ground; I had finally beaten him. But I wasn't happy. I waited for this moment my entire life; for the moment when he would be completely defenseless. When the blood didn't stop, I called 911 and waited.

Marco

I lost consciousness when the car rolled over, and woke up on with a collar on my neck and a board under my back.

"Jesse?" I asked for him first. The car had hit his side. "Gracie?" I whispered. "Ellie?" No one answered me. I couldn't look around at all, but I knew I wasn't even in an ambulance yet. I moved one of my hands enough to feel that I was on the ground.

"This one's awake!" A paramedic yelled. I saw a few faces that I didn't know, and felt them lifting me onto a stretcher.

"Where are my friends?" I choked out. "What happened?"

"You're going to be okay," a man told me, completely ignoring my questions. "Can you tell us your name?"

I decided not to say anything until they would tell me about my friends. A police officer called them away before they could ask anymore questions. Even though they were trying to keep quiet, I could hear a few things that they said.

"The driver was drunk…" I heard the officer say. A few murmurs followed. We were hit by a drunk driver, that's all I knew so far. I licked my dry lips and tasted blood.

"…DOA…" DOA? Dead On Arrival?"

"Who's dead?" I screamed. "Jesse?"

"Give him something to calm him down," the officer said. A paramedic started walking toward me.

"No!" I yelled. "Why won't you answer me?" I felt a needle pierce my skin. They were sedating me.

I heard one last part of the conversation.

"…Del Rossi."

How did they know my name? I could feel my wallet still in my back pocket. I was confused. My mind started to blur.

And then there was nothing.

A/N: Only two chapters left! I'm pretty sure this is my longest chapter for this story. But anyway, there are some possibilities as to who's going to die. Hmm. Think about it. I want guesses. Yeah, there was a random Lola moment in there because I kinda forgot to write about her. Oh well, I can't write much about a cat anyway. And there was also a random Tyler POV. The only one you'll ever get from him, seeing as this is almost done, and he's going home.

emphatic loser: I'll make a note of them not being able to write anything in rehab. I'll definitely remember that, because I have to write rehab one more time (in a different story though). I'm so glad you like it…I never thought anyone would like anything I wrote that much. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Fuse in any way at all. It was just the first channel I thought of. I also do not own Degrassi or any of its characters, including Marco and Ellie.

However, I do own the ideas in this story and Jesse, Andrew, Rory, Remy, Nate, Thomas, Lindsey, Tyler, and Theresa. Do not steal them!