Title: Peace

Summary: Pacey/Joey. One shot. Episode tag for 3x20 (The Longest Day). Cannon compliant. Joey centric. Joey POV. Joey's thoughts as she leaves Pacey on the docks at the end of 3x20. I've been rewatching this on NetFlix and since I didn't know about the beauty that is FanFic when this first aired, I am living it in now :-)

When she turns back to see that Pacey isn't sitting on the dock anymore, something constricts in her chest. Somehow, she thought he'd watch her leave – this past year she'd gotten so used to him being there for her in his uniquely Pacey way, she all most forgot what it was like to look for him and find only empty air instead. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady herself, but it only brings a fresh round of tears, so she sits down on the edge of the dock – her feet swing idly, heals just barley not skimming the water.

She thinks about Dawson, her best friend in this world, yelling at her in his front lawn that she must be confused or malicious – that he couldn't bear to look at her. The way he'd so easily brushed aside the possibility that Pacey could possibly love her. There was a time, not that long ago, that she'd have told you that there was no one single thing that could be done to demolish her friendship with Dawson. That all that history Pacey worried so much about would shelter them from one big blow being enough to bring things down around them. They had rough patches, of course, but she knew in her bones, that if she truly needed him, despite everything, he'd be there. To know how wrong she has been is an awful feeling. The shock that washed over her as she listened to him tell Andie to ask her and Pacey how long they'd been sneaking around was cold and unwelcome.

She closes her eyes against the realization that when Dawson stormed back into his house, she hadn't even looked at Pacey before she followed behind Dawson. She shouldn't have done that, she should have talked to Pacey, but in the moment, she'd been so sure that if she could only explain things to Dawson, it would be okay. He would still need time to cool down, of course, and it might still hurt, but it should not be this cataclysmic event. She thought that if she could make Dawson understand that this wasn't just some fleeting impulse, or something devised to hurt him – make him understand that she had real feelings for Pacey, had come to need him in a way that would have felt impossible a year ago, that she felt safe and loved when she was with him in a way that she never had before – then maybe Dawson wouldn't be so mad. Maybe all his talk about just wanting her to be happy would break through his shock and his confusion.

But as soon as Dawson got to his room and turned to face her, he'd attacked – precise and vicious, because he knows exactly how to hurt her the most. She wipes tears off her cheeks, but it's a futile effort as they are just replaced with new ones. She tries to pull in a deep breath, but it just causes a sob to bubble up without her permission. It's loud in her own ears, the still of the waves and the calm of the night not offering much white noise, and her hand comes up to her mouth to stifle the noise, even though she knows it can't be as loud as it feels.

She thinks of the things Dawson said in his room and all the things she wishes she'd been brave enough to say back. She wants to go back and scream that it isn't her responsibility to provide him solace, and that him thinking she'd date someone, anyone, just to punish him is insane and insulting. She wants him to know that playing The Last Picture Show when she came to him was manipulative and mean and just another example of him looking to movies to justify himself. She wants to tell him that she isn't property to be stolen or kept. That he rejected her and just because he'd decided it was time to restart the move that he calls his life and again cast her as the female romantic lead, does not mean that she is obligated to take the part.

But then, 'you can't have both of us' rings loud and aggressive in the back of her head. She glances behind herself at the True Love, bobbing gently on the water, Pacey presumably inside, and she thinks about the way he pulled her in tight and cradled her face in his hands and mumbled 'we'll do whatever you want, all right' and she can't picture Pacey declaring that she has to choose. And she wishes that she had it within herself to tell Dawson that she didn't need him, and come to these docks and tell Pacey that they could truly, finally, give this thing between them a proper try.

But, since she was young, Dawson had been the one constant in her life. When her father was cheating on her dying mother, it was Dawson she went to for comfort. When her mom died, it was Dawson who showed up and sat on her patio in silence for hours every day. When Bessie made it clear she wasn't keen on taking on a dependent, it was Dawson who made it clear she always had a side of the bed to call her own at his place. Every moment in her life, monumental to mundane, could be tied to Dawson. And, despite the fact that she has now spent over a year trying to find herself, she is still nowhere near figuring out how to be Joey without Dawson. She thought she had, but under the threat of losing him, she's forced to admit that while she has figured out where he ends and she begins, she's not confident enough that she is a whole person on her own to test the theory. She wishes she was though, because she has no idea where they go from here – how can they just go back to being friends with this hanging over them? Will she ever be able to look at him and not think of what could have been…what she lost?

She has no idea how long she's been there, how late it is, when she hears his voice behind her, "Jo?". She pulls in a sharp, surprised, breath and wipes at her eyes before she looks behind her to see Pacey standing barefoot, hands in his pockets, on the dock.

"Hey, Pace" she whispers, turning back to the water as he gestures to the space next to her and then sits. She doesn't realize she's shivering until he sighs, unzips his sweatshirt, and drapes it over her shoulders. She breathes out a small smile, despite herself, and pulls the sweater tighter around her body pulling in a deep breath and letting Pacey's comforting smell surround her. "Thanks." She breathes out.

"What are you doing back here, Joey?" he asks, quiet, staring out over the water.

"I – uh -" she winces, tucks her hair behind her ears, "I actually never left" his eyes cut to her and she shakes her head a little, shrugs one shoulder, "I was just thinking…" she trails off, her hands twisting in her lap.

"Come to any conclusions?"

She lets out a huff she thinks should have been a laugh and shakes her head slowly, "I'm sorry, Pacey" her voice is going watery again, tears gathering in her eyes, and Pacey frowns, reaching out to slide his arm across her shoulders. She's stammering out shaky words when she apologizes, "I'm sorry, I know I'm – I mean, it's – I know I'm not -"

He pulls her closer to him and kisses her temple. His lips brush her hair when he mummers "I know, Joey, I know". When he looks back out over the water, she drops her head to rest on his shoulder and he runs his hand up and down her arm gently. She wants to stretch this moment out as long as possible, wants to live in this peace as long as it is available to her. She has a feeling that once this moment is over, peace will be hard to come by for a long while.

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