Author's Note - thanks for the reviews. Some of them are really flattering. I love how people comment on my writing. It makes me feel good. So -- here's the next chapter. I have a new story - it's called ours is not to reason why and it's a teen titans comic story - but it's centered around Bart Allen. I also wrote a one shot for veronica mars (for Beaver). So I haven't been doing nothing, y'know. But anyways. Thanks for the feedback. This story is by far my most reviewed so, let's hope it lasts for a while, right? It's hell of a long story anyways. But I've read longer. This chapter's short - but the next one will be longer - with everybody else's interviews.

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"What?" Beaver asked, exasperated, leaning forward slightly. "So he just…they just killed him?" He asked, not bothering to mask his disappointment and surprise.

Melissa nodded slowly, letting a smirk rise to the surface. "He was evil, Beeve. They did a good thing?"

"But that wasn't his fault!" Beaver argued. "He was only out for revenge. So what if he accidentally killed a few people? Jeez, woman, you sure are tough on humanity."

"It's a show, Beaver," Melissa murmured, striding forward to switch off the TV.

Beaver opened his mouth to reply but the loud knock interrupted him. Melissa lifted her head slightly. "It's Jackson," Beaver answered.

Melissa glanced at Beaver. "You can't know that by one knock."

There was another knock. "You're right," Beaver agreed. "Let's put money on it."

Melissa narrowed her eyes and rose from the couch. "I don't think so," she muttered to herself. She pulled open the door without looking through the peep hole. It was Jackson. Melissa glanced over at Beaver who was showing a large grin. "Stupid psychic," Melissa muttered to herself.

"What?" Jackson asked, glancing over at Beaver too.

"Come in, Jackson," Melissa murmured, ignoring his question and stepping aside to allow him room. Jackson entered her house, taking in the new surrounding at a glance. She had a modest house - a nice home. "You okay?" Melissa asked, studying his face.

Jackson nodded. "I'm fine. I actually came by to check up on you. Are you okay? You and Beaver…everybody else went back to school…"

Melissa nodded. "I'm fine," she replied. "I just…I wasn't ready to go back to school today. I don't know how I'm ever going to re-assimilate myself back into that school. It was hard enough the first time, but now everybody knows me…everybody knows what happened."

Jackson nodded. "Yeah. I know. The others aren't taking it quite so well either. People like to judge. They say they're sorry but…I don't know…"

"How's Taylor taking it?" Beaver asked from the couch; which he was spread out across, folding his arms beneath his head.

Jackson glanced over at beaver. "You really care, huh?" He asked seriously.

Beaver hesitated before nodding solemnly. "Yeah. I think I do."

"She's not taking it well," Jackson admitted. "She's been rejected, I guess. It's like somebody opened this door for her and now she can remain blind in the face of it no longer."

"Wow," Beaver murmured. "You're a poet."

Melissa grinned, looking up at Jackson. "She must feel terrible," she murmured.

"I would too," Beaver agreed. "If I had shut me out like she did. I'd be filled with regret. She knows where you live right, Melissa?"

"They've hired a psychiatrist," Jackson told Melissa as they both ignored Beaver. "They think maybe we've been traumatized and talking to a complete stranger will somehow help us."

Beaver shrugged in the background. "Sometimes strangers are the only people you're brave enough to talk to. Their opinion doesn't matter so why hide what doesn't need to be hidden?"

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Dr. Brennan - the hired psychiatrist - leaned back slightly in her chair. "Take you time," she murmured. "Tell me about what happened, on the island. How did you survive for so long?"

Taylor shrugged. "I don't know how we survived. Lex and Daley, they built this whole system. They found food and they created this water system. Lex made this amazing shower…"

"You kids did all of that? On your own?" The psychiatrist pressed.

Taylor nodded. "The island was disserted," Taylor said automatically. "Who was supposed to do it for us?"