"Will you stop packing for a minute and tell me why you want to leave now? I thought you'd forgiven me for being a jerk last night. Come on, Jen." Jack reached for the jeans she was carefully folding as she knelt on the floor of the guest bedroom in front of her open suitcase.

"This isn't about your being a jerk, although that is a truth that can't be denied," Jen said with a smile, pulling the jeans out of her friend's grip and refolding them.

"So what is it? You weren't planning to leave this soon before."

"When I came here, I didn't have a plan. It could have been two days or two years, for all I knew when I left New York."

"Okay, then, let's make it the latter."

Jen paused in her compulsive folding and looked up at him, smiling at the sight of his concerned eyes and earnest face. "Jack, you're very sweet. You make me feel very wanted, and that's nice. I can't even begin to tell you how much better everything seems now that I've spent some time with you and the others. But this isn't real life. Capeside has never been real life for me; it's been my escape. Real life is what's waiting for me back in New York, and I need to go and face it. The longer I hide from it, the worse it's going to be when it catches up with me. And it will catch up with me."

Jack sighed, knowing there was no use arguing with her when she had made up her mind about something. She pulled herself up from the floor and put her arms around him.

"I'll miss you more than anything," she said honestly, squeezing him around the middle.

He squeezed back, gently, mindful of her condition. "Yeah, same here, weirdo," he said reluctantly. When they pulled apart, Jack nodded toward her open suitcase. "Need any help with that?"

"No, I've got it."

"Good. I don't want to help you bail on me anyway." He smiled wistfully and walked out of the room, leaving Jen alone with her thoughts.

She'd had another episode the night before, when they finally returned from the Icehouse. Thank God Jack hadn't witnessed it, because this one had driven her to her knees and come very close to knocking her unconscious. The morning light had erased the details down to a vague dull memory of a pain that had been anything but vague and dull, a ghostly image of her own reflection in the mirror as she clutched the big oak dresser and fought to catch her breath, feeling like she was being stabbed right through the heart.

This one had scared her enough. Enough to send her straight for her suitcase the moment her eyes opened the next morning, enough to propel her blindly toward a return to a city she didn't feel nearly ready to return to yet. Fear is a lonely thing, but she wasn't willing to share it.

What a noble fallacy, she thought, smiling bitterly down at the contents of her luggage. Because, truth be told, she wasn't sparing Jack for the right reasons, not to save him from worrying about her, not for his own sake, at least not completely. Heavier than that, more compelling, was that she couldn't bear to voice her fear, to risk the horrible possibility that sharing it could, instead of easing the burden, actually multiply it.

She was worried enough for herself, for him, for Grams, for the world. Something was terribly wrong with her, and she had never in her life been so afraid.

Someone tapped on the half-open door, and Jen jumped and spun toward it, breaking into a grin when she saw who was there.

"Damn, you scared me!" she said. "Come on in. Help me pack; I'm busting out of this hellhole."

Pacey returned her smile and opened the door the rest of the way, eyeing her suitcase and its contents for a moment. "So it's true?" he asked. "You're leaving us too?"

Jen nodded. "Yeah, it's time," she said. "Joey?"

"She claims she's hitting the road as soon as she sleeps off the bitch of a hangover she's nursing this morning," he said. "Guess whose blood she's after for that one?"

Laughing, Jen said, "Oh, I wouldn't venture a guess."

Settling down on the unmade bed, Pacey took a deep breath. "If you're wondering about what you saw last night, in the bathroom—"

"Wondering? Please. I beg you to enlighten me."

"I think she's going to hold him off on the marriage thing," he said after a moment's thoughtful silence.

"Thank God for small favors. What else?"

"She's confused."

"Joey Potter? Surely you jest!"

"I'm worried about her, Jen. She seems so … unhappy. Worse than that, though. She seems lost. I don't know how to say this … Will you … would you mind—" He broke off, searching for the right words.

"You want me to take care of her," Jen offered, smiling at his pensive expression. "Resume my esteemed spot as the Joey watchman of the Northeast?"

He chuckled. "I don't know if I'd say 'take care of her.' That's just a little too Dawson Leery for my taste. Just … make sure she doesn't slip too far away from us."

Jen moved to sit next to Pacey on the bed. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it, looking at him seriously. "I wouldn't dream of letting that happen," she told him in a softly confidential tone. "Don't worry."

He smiled. "Easy words, Jen." He glanced over at her, and noticed at this close proximity just how strained and pale she was. His forehead wrinkled in sudden concern. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

Her eyes visibly clouded over as her guard came up. "I'm fine," she said, laughing to show him how silly the question was.

"You look—"

"Tired," she finished for him quickly. "I know. I look tired because I am tired. It's one of the main symptoms of early pregnancy, Pace. I'm exhausted, in fact. Don't let Jack's weird maternal-style worry get to you."

Pacey's brow uncreased, and he chuckled lightly. "Jackers does have a mother-hen quality about him, doesn't he?"

Jen smiled, relieved that Pacey was going to be a much easier sell than Jack. "Now if you'll please be kind enough to carry my suitcase downstairs, we need to gather the troops one last time for a proper farewell."

He frowned, pretending to consider the matter. "If I don't, then you can't leave, right? I mean, heavy lifting is on the no-go list for moms-to-be, isn't it?"

"You don't want to test me, Witter," Jen said sweetly. "I've got a hell of a right hook."

He raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I'll carry your damn suitcase. But let's not call this a farewell, okay? That makes me nervous. Let's call it a 'see ya later.'"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Jen grinned and started downstairs, Pacey in tow with her over-packed suitcase.

They gathered around the front porch of Jack's house to say their goodbyes. The lack of the group's usual lighthearted banter and sarcastic wordplay was a testament to the somberness of the occasion. Pacey, being Pacey, made several valiant attempts to lighten the mood, but the pained glances he kept stealing at the sad-eyed girl next to him revealed his true feelings.

"So does everyone have everyone else's number?" Jack demanded, looking at each of them in turn. "Because I wasn't kidding. I am not going to be the gatekeeper for this little group any longer. So don't even think about calling me for updates on each other."

"Yeah, man, I think we're covered now," Dawson said, smiling at Joey. "And you will be hearing from me more often from now on. This was entirely too long to go without speaking to you."

Joey smiled briefly at him and then her eyes flicked over to Pacey. "Yeah," she said to all of them in general. "I'll try not to be MIA for so long again."

"I'll keep her in the rotation, don't you worry," Jen said, addressing everyone but looking at Pacey.

"Jen, we want frequent updates on you and Little Jen, okay?" Dawson added. "You take care of yourself." He reached over to hug her, and she squeezed him tightly.

"I promise," she said. When the two of them stepped apart, Jack pulled her into his encircling arm and planted a kiss on her temple.

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," he said softly. "So I'll be checking up much more often than you probably want to hear from me."

She smiled. "I know you will," she said. "But I'll let it slide."

Hugs all around and promises to keep in touch, and then Joey and Jen were climbing into their respective cars and preparing to leave. Jen fought the tightness that had settled around her chest; this time not from any medical condition, but from simple sadness. Knowing how much she would miss them hurt; knowing that she was returning to loneliness and pieces of a failed relationship she hadn't yet had a chance to lay to rest was worse.

Jack gathered her into one final hug, and she laughed even as tears sprang up into her eyes. "I think you're overreacting a little, McPhee," she said, muffled against his chest. "I'm going to see you again. You're going to be my birthing coach, remember?"

"Of course," he said, stepping back to look at her. He gently wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb. "Please be careful," he said. "Call me when you get there. Call me when you … just call me. Okay?"

"You know it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Enough of this mushy stuff. Joey and I have a long drive ahead of us."

She looked past Jack at Dawson and Pacey, whose gazes were both fixed on Joey as she paused with her hand on the driver's side door of her rental car. It seemed that no one knew how to end this, and no one wanted to. Better to just go.

"Bye boys," Jen called out. "Take care of each other. Dawson, don't let Hollywood eat you."

"Never," he returned. "See ya, Jen."

She turned back to her best friend who was standing in front of her with a troubled look in his eyes. "I love you, Jack," she said softly.

"Love you too, kiddo," he said. "Drive safe, both of you."

Jen made the break first. She got in and started away with a smile on her face and a weight in her heart. Leaving had never been her forte. She didn't even look back as she turned onto the road, not knowing if Joey had managed to tear herself away yet, thinking that it might be better for all concerned if she hadn't.