A/N: I'm really enjoying writing this fic. Netflix is probably going to send me a worried email soon. "Are you ok? You've watched 'while you were sleeping' ten times this week." :P I'd be curious to know if anyone is reading this still. I got a couple nice comments, and I really wanted the people who left them to know how much I appreciate it.

Jack fidgeted, plucking at the cuff of his shirt, unable to pay attention to whatever game show as currently blasting from the tv in the middle of his parents' living room. Mary kept nudging him when Ox directed a comment in his direction, but he couldn't focus on the inane chatter for more than a few minutes before his thoughts drifted away.

There was a restless energy coursing through him, tempered by a burning embarrassment. He'd been such a jerk at the hospital, his need to create a reality where Lucy wasn't connected to his brother had bulldozed any sense of proper had been too much to take, his family casually chatting about Peter and Lucy. The two had become a pair in their minds, one coming up any time the other was mentioned. It made him want to break something, and his one last little niggling doubt about her intentions had jumped out at him.

He sighed at the memory. At the very least he'd basically accused her of lying about being with Peter, and at the most of cheating on his comatose brother. Thank God she was so forgiving and sweet, a surprised snort and genuinely amused smile splitting across her face when Joe Fusco's name had passed his lips.

He'd known at that very moment what an idiot he'd been, but by that time he was already having an out of body experience, watching from afar as he made an ass of himself. Of course Joe Jr. was delusional. He'd come to that very conclusion already, having met the man once, and yet he'd kept at her, his need to somehow break whatever connection she had to his brother, blotting out his sanity. She had departed fairly quickly after the ridiculous scene. And who could blame her? Jack wouldn't have wanted to be around him either. His ears felt hot at the memory.

Mary nudged him again. "So?"

He blinked, willing away the image of Lucy with her arms crossed, glaring at him. It had definitely been a side of her he'd not been privy to before, finally seeing her personality emerge a bit. It was as though she was finally feeling secure in his family's affections. Except his. He sighed. "So… what?"

"Dad asked if you would take Lucy that loveseat from the McGregor's estate, like an engagement present or something, before you go home. So?"

Did he want to see Lucy? No, not particularly, especially not after being presented with irrefutable evidence that Peter and her… well, that they were the ones who had been 'intimate.' When she'd proven the nature of her relationship, his heart had sunk, for the first time feeling the full import of his feelings for her. It was a huge mistake to pursue any kind of contact at this point.

But Jack wasn't a bad guy, and he genuinely felt he owed Lucy an apology. He'd been so unrelenting in his mission to unveil some sort of deceit. Now that he knew it was real, whatever she had with his brother, he couldn't help but wonder how she really felt about this whole situation. The doctor's had said that Peter's prognosis was good, no real visible damage on any of the scans, but ultimately it was all up in the air. If she loved his brother, and at this point he had no reason to believe otherwise, she had to be hurting, even if she put on a brave face for his family.

"God, Jack, what is with you? You're like a million miles away." This time Mary poked him, none too gently, in the ribs.

"Hey!" He scooted away from her, casting a halfhearted glare in her direction. "Nothing.. I'm fine.. Just tired, I guess."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing what he said, she opened her mouth to say as much but he interrupted her. "Yeah, I'll, uh, swing by her place before I go home."

It was fine, really. He just needed to apologize for his idiotic behavior, offer her some sort of familial support. He didn't have to spend a lot of time doing it, just go over there and drop the thing off without asking rude questions.

His heart picked up its pace, a little flutter of anticipation in his chest. Damn it.

Without further comment he levered himself up off the couch, stomping to the door without making any goodbyes. He paused briefly to collect his coat from the rack in the foyer, shifting in surprise when he felt a hand on his arm. Mary.

"What is it?" He thought maybe his father had sent her with more instructions regarding his delivery.

She smiled up at him, and his currently grumpy demeanor fell away. How had she grown so much? He remembered, with startling clarity, bouncing her in his lap while she drooled happily over some brightly colored toy. "Jack, are you alright?"

"Of course."

"No, I mean. You've been acting weird today. You were all out of sorts at the hospital, and then just now…"

He chuckled, fighting the urge to ruffle his kid sister's hair. He knew she hated that. He settled instead for drawing her into a quick hug. "I'm fine. I think maybe I'm running a quart low on blood though. That's probably it."

She narrowed her eyes, gazing at him questioningly. "You like her, don't you?" Jack's mouth fell open, failing to find a response. Mary continued. "This is weird, with her being engaged to Peter and all, but I think she likes you too."

Jack's eyes widened at the concerned look on his sister's face. "Lucy?"

Mary nodded. "What if Peter never wakes up?" There was a little quiver in her last words. She loved their brother, even though she'd had relatively little contact with him after he went away for school. Jack suddenly felt like the worst sort of person. "What'll happen to Lucy if he never wakes up?"

Jack had been wondering the same thing, even though he'd tried his family's tack of pretending nothing bad was going to happen. It was a very real possibility that Peter wouldn't wake up. What then? Would Lucy just fade out of their lives? He hated himself for being more concerned with that than the state of his brother, but in the dead of night, when the weight of his day came crashing down on him, Jack thought about these things. In the fuzzy borderland between consciousness and dreamland, he sometimes thought about what it would be like to pursue Lucy freely, to tell her about all of the strange sensations he felt in her presence. Inevitably though, guilt would come crashing down on him. He couldn't do that to his brother, even in dreamland.

"Peter's going to be fine, Mary. And when he wakes up, I'm sure they'll have a beautiful wedding." The words were meant to be reassuring, but he suddenly felt like he was uttering some catastrophic prediction, his voice wavering at the end. "Maybe you can even be a bridesmaid."

Her eyes lit up at the mention of the wedding, momentarily distracted from her other concerns. "Oh, Jack, do you really think she would want me to be a bridesmaid? That would be so cool." She giggled, once more her normal teenage self. She waggled her eyebrows at him. "If Peter doesn't wake up, then you'll have to marry her so I can still be in a wedding."

She laughed at her little joke, giving her brother one last squeeze before skipping back down the hall to their parents. Why had she said that? Why had she put that image in his head, the one he's been so fervently avoiding? Lucy walking down the aisle toward him, an ephemeral white dress floating around her, a happy flush tinting her creamy skin. She shook his head, angrily threading his arms through the sleeves of his coat. No, he would never see that. With any luck he wouldn't even be around when Peter and Lucy tied the knot.

The door slammed behind him as he strode toward the delivery truck, grateful for the brisk air whipping against his skin. Nothing was ever more welcome than that stinging cold, reminding him of exactly what was real and what wasn't.