***A/N: Very short, but key update! I hope to be back soon with another update, one that most likely will be longer. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave a review, so very much appreciated. Thank you for the follows and favorites, too. And of course for reading this AU view in general. A big thank you to my beta, cainc3! Enjoy!

Obligatory disclaimer: I wish I may, I wish I might, but evidently wishes don't always come to fruition. Nope, still don't own a thing!

Recap of chapter 18: LoVe and MaDi went on a double date to Luigi's for Valentine's Day. They exchanged gifts; things were going smoothly until they went back to Dick's house for a Halo marathon. Seeing Cassidy coupled with noticing the team photo of The Sharks on the Casablancas' mantle inspired Mac (as Madison) to privately tell Dick that she suspected that Woody had molested a couple former bat boys. Dick was devastated and ended their date early, but still made sure she got home safely.

Chapter 19—From the Ashes

**** Tuesday afternoon February 15, 2005***

At lunch, Mac sat at her usual boundary table with Veronica and Wallace. Jackson joined them, too. He usually divided his time between the '09'er table with Dick, Logan, Pam, Meg, and a rotating cast of other richy riches and sitting on the border with Mac and her posse.

She wasn't very hungry; she'd mainly just been pushing her veggie wrap and chips around, making it look like she was eating. Her appetite had taken a nose dive since Sunday and wasn't showing any signs of rebounding.

"Hey, Madi, what the hell did you do to Dick?" Jackson asked around the bite of his ham and swiss sandwich. Mac could tell something was on his mind, the way he was studying her. He'd turned out to be a really good friend in this dimension, and a part of her was sad she'd never really gotten to know him in her real life.

"Nothing," Mac said, trying not to choke on the sip of Coke she'd just taken. "What do you mean?"

Dick was nowhere to be seen. He had sat as far away, as geographically possible, from her in homeroom, and he'd made a point of looking everywhere but at her the entire fifteen minutes. However, that was a marked improvement over yesterday when he was out "sick." She suspected hung over was more likely; Dick's version of dealing with things involved a Vodka chaser.

"He was acting weird before school, and just now, when I saw him in the hall, he had the most lame ass excuse I've ever heard for not eating lunch in the quad. I said something about you and the dude changed the subject so fast I got whiplash, but not before looking like he could kill you with his bare hands and not feel an ounce of regret."

Involuntarily, Mac looked over at Veronica when Jackson was talking about strangulation. Not surprisingly, a fleeting flash of grief overtook her face before going back to a stony default.

"Man, that's just uncalled for," Wallace interjected, not impressed with the implied violent feelings someone could be harboring towards one of his friends.

"Madison and Dick were getting along great the last time I saw them," Veronica said, once she collected herself from the brief reminder of Lilly's death, still very fresh in her mind.

"We had a little disagreement, he'll get over it," Mac admitted. She wasn't certain that were true, telling someone that their younger brother had been abused by a person in authority was not just something one "got over."

She wasn't trying to ruin the 'Brady Bunch' façade Dick was trying to project; she simply wanted to see Cassidy get the help he so desperately needed. She wanted to save her classmates. It was horrible knowing she hurt Dick like that, but nothing about this situation was easy.

She watched Veronica struggle to shake off her grief about Lilly, and felt her own guilt meter spike at the thought that she was trying so hard to save other classmates when it was already too late to protect the one person she most wanted to cover in bubble wrap and keep safe.

Veronica kept a lot of things about herself and her past on lockdown in every dimension of time, but as best as Mac had put together something bad had still gone down at Shelly Pomeroy's party despite the fact that Dick had been with her that night. She hadn't been able to get a confirmation nor denial about Cassidy's whereabouts that particular evening; high school memories ran shallow when beer was involved.

Mac was pulled into the present when Logan nudged her over a couple of inches so he could squeeze himself between her and Veronica.

"Why yes, please join us Logan, thank you for asking. You're welcome, Veronica. I wanted to make sure I was on hand to carry your books. Anything else I may do to service you?" Veronica said, handling both ends of the conversation herself, deepening her voice for Logan's lines.

"Well, I guess I'm just going to sit here and look pretty while you handle the entire conversation yourself, Bobcat."

"Your ventriloquist skills are improving," Mac teased.

"Her lips were moving," Wallace corrected.

"Are you calling me a dummy, Madison?" Logan sounded indignant.

"If the strings fit," Mac quipped with her signature smirk.

Wallace burst out into laughter at Logan's sour expression.

The banter moved towards classes and the piles of homework teachers gave. Wallace attempted to propose a consipracy theory, but Jackson wasn't ready to let the subject of Dick drop entirely. He started pumping Logan for more information on the many moods of his BFF.

"Betina did a drop by over the weekend, and then left just as suddenly for an emergency pedicure or something way more important than mothering," Logan said, his nose wrinkling involuntarily as he spoke the first name of Dick's mom as though smelling something odious. "I don't why she breezed in and then back out again, a nanny crisis perhaps." He shrugged, genuinely clueless about the whole thing, apparently.

Mac schooled herself to remain passive, but she apparently didn't succeed at that.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to faint?" Veronica leaned in and whispered quietly in her ear.

"I'm fine, thank you." Mac's voice sounded wooden, even to herself. She knew enough about Betina's history of neglect and emotional abuse to fill in the gaps of that 'motherly' visit and how horribly awry it must have gone. She felt stupid for thinking that bringing the senior Casablancas into the equation would have a happily ever after ending for any of the parties involved.

Veronica didn't look convinced but she let it go. Logan brought up their shared journalism class and the subject was effectively changed.

"So I noticed The Navigator was literally flying off the shelves. Your hard charging expose was a hit, Bobcat."

"I really know how to sell out a free paper, what can I say?" Veronica snarked back. "Of course, it wasn't as interesting as the secret life of lunch ladies."

"I can't speak for the rest of the Neptune populace, but I appreciate a little warning when the place educating my mind is constantly failing safety audits. If I'm going to blow to smithereens from a faulty boiler, a little preparation to get my estate in order is a good thing," Wallace interjected.

"What estate?"

"Comic books, my signed Air Jordan's, and my Chemistry set," Wallace quickly rattled off.

"Signed by who? The Nike CEO?" Jackson asked.

"Michael," Wallace said, in a d'uh tone of voice.

"What did you leave me, little bro?"

Wallace and Veronica had moved into the acceptance phase of their parents' dating and were still getting a lot of mileage out the brother/sister bunk bed jokes.

"My Neptune High jersey, it would have been worth something had I lived long enough to graduate. Of course if you fry right alongside me, it'll go to Darryl, my real brother."

Veronica put her hand on her heart. "Real? Am I not real?"

"Blood brother," he corrected.

"If I get pricked, do I not bleed?"

Logan opened his mouth to interject but shut it immediately upon the look Veronica shot him, preemptively before he could make a dirty joke.

"If you tickle us, do we not laugh?" Mac added.

"Okay, enough with the double teaming us with Shakespeare," Logan pleaded. "There's a time and place for the Bard, this is not it."

"Yeah, save it for Mrs. Murphy's class," Wallace said in solidarity.

"Et tu, Fennel?"

"Did you not just hear me?" Logan asked.

"Evidently not, I heard in Health Class that estrogen can clog the ear drum, that explains why women don't listen," Wallace explained in a faux professorial voice.

"And I heard testosterone kills brain cells." Veronica said, turning towards Mac.

"Bullshit," all the guys said in unison.

"Oh, I thought we were just making things up and passing them off as fact."

"Made up or not, Vee, that would explain so much," Mac said.

"Made up or not, Wallace, that would explain so much," Logan parroted.

Lunch ended much too quickly for Mac's taste. She was surprised to discover a little snark with her friends went a long way towards pushing all thoughts of Dick, and by extension, Cassidy out of her mind. It didn't last long, but it was a nice break from the bruises she carried deep inside from one dimension to the next.

After throwing away the remains of their lunch, Mac and Veronica walked back inside. They said good-bye and parted ways in the center hallway. Their usual plan of meeting in the bathroom, by the office, after last period was thwarted by Veronica's dental appointment after 6th period.

No longer having any distractions, her thoughts turned once again to Dick's dead air, radio silence. He wasn't really much of a sharer when it came to discussing his feelings, she knew that, and what's more, she respected that being a member of the same club. Still, as hypocritical as it was, she hated being sidelined when someone she cared about was suffering. She couldn't really expect him to process something this major in three days when she hadn't really been able to process the fact she'd been raised by the "wrong" family in the almost six years she'd accidentally discovered the truth.

Mac looked down at her new shoes, black Coach Sneakers, one of several pairs her bio-mom had stuck in there from a recent shopping trip. They were labeled but one of the least ostentatious new members of the massive shoe collection that made its home in the bottom of her roomy closet. Natalie loved shoes almost as much as Ellen, but she had more of a Keds budget. She was beginning to wonder if she'd die in this sandbox world. If Natalie would remain "Cindy's" mom forever, and Ryan would be a stranger. Would she always be Madison to the rest of the world? At least she had a relationship with Lauren now. That was a fantasy come true, at the very least. Apparently, the fight with Dick had put her in a philosophical mood.

That thought train came to abrupt end when she hit…something. She looked up and was about to apologize when she realized it was Dick.

"Oh…" was what came out instead.

"Madison."

It sounded formal coming from his lips, and that was all kinds of wrong.

"Um, sorry," she muttered, taking a step back.

Dick took a step forward at the same time. She didn't know if their awkward little two-step was on purpose or not.

"My mom came by Sunday. She was, uh, gone by that night, but she and dad agreed to try therapy. With the Beav, ah, Cass, that is. Not for them, they're hopeless." He spoke softly, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up. He didn't quite meet her eyes.

"So, it looks like you were right, he uh…" Dick cleared his throat, and tried again. "He didn't admit anything, but the denial portion of the evening ended pretty quickly. Only one of Betina's precious, freaky clown figurines got smashed. That population never recovered from the night she first packed up to make room for one of dad's bimbos."

Mac reached over to put a hand on his shoulder, but he stepped back again, just out of her reach.

"I hate those clowns," he added, unnecessarily.

"Not a fan myself," Mac admitted. "So, are we okay?" This time it was she who couldn't make eye contact.

"We will be. I just, yeah, I know this is fucked up thing, so, um. We will be okay one of these days. That's all I know."

"But not now?" Mac asked, tentatively. She fiddled with a strand of errant hair.

"Not yet." His voice was just as soft.

"Okay," Mac said, and turned to walk away. Her voice was flat, accepting. What choice did she have?

"Okay?" He sounded incredulous.

"What am I supposed to say? That I don't accept that?" Mac whirled around.

The hall was starting to fill up, the bell for fifth period was about to ring. They ignored the crush of classmates walking by, giving them a wide berth.

"No." He sighed.

"Okay, then. See you in 7th."

"Bye Madison."

It wasn't finality, but in that moment it felt like it.

Her classes', right up until English, passed in a blur. Her body was physically there, but she couldn't quit replaying the inflection, or lack thereof, in Dick's voice as he said bye.

Once she crossed the threshold of Mrs. Murphy's English class, however, time slowed down.

She tried to focus on taking notes as Mrs. Murphy droned on about Hemmingway's use of symbolism. Where Mac was forcing herself to appear to be paying attention, Dick seemed to be genuinely listening to the lecture. He threw out a lot of ass-kiss questions which demonstrated he was actually learning something. She supposed there was a first time for everything.

At long last, the bell rang signaling the end of Mrs. Murphy's English class, and the end of the school day, too.

Mac sighed audibly; she was so ready to go home. The talk she and Dick had after lunch was stilted, at best. Their relationship was anything but repaired. He needed time to come to terms with his little brother, she got that, but she ached to comfort him, to support him through this difficult time, but in typical Dick fashion he was pushing her away. She had no choice but to let him. She stood up and packed up her copy of Old Man and the Sea. Dick was already exiting the class room when he stopped briefly, turned around and made eye contact with her. He gave her a half-smile and half-hearted wave.

Baby steps.

Yesterday he wasn't even at school. Sunday he didn't answer any of her texts, all five of them. Okay, seven. Alright, ten.

She wasn't being stalkerish, she just really felt bad each time she pictured the way he looked as she ripped off the band aid and told him "her suspicion" about Cassidy being molested at the hands of Woody Goodman and the fictionalized story about how she came across this information. He looked like she sucker punched him right in the gut.

Mac poured out into the hall, glad this hellish day was finally over. She looked up briefly, and her eyes locked onto Dick and Cassidy standing in the middle of the hall, like an island in the tide of students eager to leave the school grounds. They were laughing and horsing around, typical brothers in an anything but typical situation, and it made Mac ache.

Dick looked up as though he could sense her staring at him.

The pain throbbed up again as she watched his grin wink out of existence. They'd talked briefly after lunch, but Dick had made it clear that he still needed some space to process the deathblow she'd delivered to his white picket fence existence.

Her ruminations were suddenly shattered by two seemingly simultaneous events; a loud, concussive boom and her name being screamed in terror.

Mac felt something slam into her head with brute force. At first, she felt no associative pain as she face-planted onto the dirty linoleum of Neptune High.

Flashes of objects, a mental montage of images bombarded Mac's senses, overloading her misfiring circuits. Screaming, yelling shrieks of panic and pain. Acrid smoke grayed the heavy air. Mac was drowning in the sensory overload and the pain that threatened to envelop and choke her. She didn't know why she was on the ground, or how she got there.

Someone kneeled down beside her, but the whispered words were lost in the chaos. Then everything grayed out, her name echoed softly until fading into inky nothingness…

TBC...

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