Me: Tucker, we need to talk.

Me: I know you're probably busy but I think this is important.

Me: It's about Vlad. I know you said to be careful but I really need to know about what.

Me: I'm going to bed. Respond asap in the morning. Vlad freaked me out. Night.

(-.-)

I woke up because my phone was ringing. Without opening my eyes, I pulled the piece of technology from my bed, swiped the screen and held it up to my ear.

"'ello?" I grunted.

"Sam?" Tucker asked. "Are you all right? Did anything happen? I just got your texts and I wanted to check in."

"Nothing happened I just have questions." I stopped. "Are … are you all right?"

"I've been at the hospital." He sniffed. I knew he sounded like he'd been crying. "Jazz was attacked last night."

"Attacked? What do you mean attacked?"

"Aw, fuck. It's bad Sam. She's … it's … fuck."

"Do you want me to come over there?"

"Actually, can I come there? It's really difficult being here right now and she's under lockdown by the doctors, basically –"

"Say no more, Tuck. Come on over whenever you want."

"Thanks, Sam. I'll see you soon."

I crawled out of bed, threw on some clothing and went to warn my parents about Tucker's arrival. I wandered into the kitchen, where my father was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"It's early for you to be up, honey," he commented.

I squinted at the microwave clock. Holy crap, it was only 7:30. No wonder Dad looked shocked to see me.

"One of my friends is coming over," I mumbled, grabbing the coffee pot as soon as he set it down.

"So early?" Dad raised his eyebrows at me.

"Look, his girlfriend was attacked last night or something and he's not allowed to see her. He just wants some support."

"You don't need to defend yourself, hon. It's perfectly all right for you to have a friend over." Dad took a long drink of his coffee and then paused. "But it's a boy and I'm your father so … leave your door open."

I cracked a grin, though grinning before noon is nearly impossible. "All right, if you insist."

"I do," Dad answered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm supposed to be in a virtual business meeting right now."

"Have fun," I told him sarcastically.

Dad grunted and threw me a look. I sipped at my coffee and waited for the doorbell to ring. It wasn't long before the 'ding-dong' sound beckoned me to the front door. I raced to it, not wanting Tucker to be alone. I knew that being alone was one of the worst things a person could be, especially when they were sad.

When I opened the door, my diagnosis of 'sad' didn't even begin to cover the devastated look on Tucker's broad face. I reached for him and, though he was much taller and much bigger than I was, he leaned into my arms; looking for the support I was so willing to offer him. I led him inside, keeping an arm around his waist. Together, we stumbled up the stairs into my room. I left the door open a crack, just as my father had suggested.

Tucker was crumpled on my bed.

I was at a loss for words.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offered, sitting next to him and rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

"I don't know. Danny called me last night, all freaked out because there was something wrong. He said that he found in her in the street, looking like she'd been fucking mauled. He was out of it because he knew that it was his fault and I was out of it because I'm in love with her. Being at the hospital is insane because the Fentons' are all stressed out and none of them know how to deal with it. We're not even allowed to see Jazz because she's in ICU or something right now and, whenever they think they have all their problems fixed, something else goes wrong. And, even if she got to a point where she was allowed visitors, it's immediate family only." He sat up and looked at me, eyes dripping with tears. "What if something goes wrong, Sam? What if we lose her?"

My mind was spinning with questions. Tucker clearly knew what had attacked Jazz; he must have known since Fenton was blaming himself. I wondered what Fenton could be doing to bring such hell on his family, especially the sister I knew he adored. My intuition was telling me it had something to do with the Vlad mystery, although I knew that this was no time to ask about any of it. Tucker needed to be comforted, not grilled.

"Nothing is going to happen," I soothed. "Jazz is tough and the doctors know what they're doing. She'll be up and around in no time."

"What if she's not? I mean, we never got to tell anyone, least of all Danny. Aside from that, I still haven't told Jazz all of the things that I want to. I need more time with her and I hate this feeling that it's not going to happen."

"It will. It's all going to be fine. I know it's hard right now to believe that – trust me, I know – but no one is losing Jazz, especially not now. She's going wake up and be fine. You'll get to tell Fenton and have him beat you up over kissing his sister or some other masculine reason. You'll get to tell Jazz everything that you need to. I promise, Tuck, you're going to have time."

"I feel like I should have been there to protect her. She shouldn't have been alone. Danny and I knew that. We knew that we shouldn't be alone. But, neither of us considered that the threats would go to Jazz."

"What threats?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"They've been coming since around the time you left Amity, I think. Fuck, Danny should have just stopped it. Or stopped him. I never thought this would get so far. Fuck." And then Tucker swore again. "Fuck."

"Tuck –" I began again but was cut off by a cellphone ringing.

"If there's something strange in your neighbourhood,

"Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!

"If there's something weird and it don't look good

"Who you gonna call? Ghost busters!"

Tucker reached into his pocket and lifted his cellphone to the side of his head. "Hey, Danny. What's going on?"

His ringtone for Fenton was the Ghostbusters theme song? Even I could find that a little funny.

"I'm sorry, cardiac arrest? Is that what you just said?"

No, no, no. Jazz just couldn't suffer anymore. She had to be all right. She had to start getting better.

"Is she …?" Tucker stopped, unable to ask the question that I finished in my head.

Is she alive?

"Good. So it was just the trauma of the attack that caused it? Okay. Do you want me to come back over?" Tucker paused and he swallowed. "No, I understand the importance. I just … I want to be there for you and your family too."

Importance of what? I asked myself, feeling as though a puzzle was building around me and I didn't have a prayer of putting the pieces together.

"Okay. Call me if anything else happens. I want to know."

He hung up the phone, shook his head, and then burst into fresh tears.

"What the fuck am I going to do?"

I had no answers for him.

(-.-)

I stirred the pasta lazily around the pot, the heat of the steam making me drowsy. Tucker had fallen asleep upstairs not too long ago and I had come down to make us both some lunch. Fenton hadn't called again about Jazz, so we had to assume that everything was like it was when he called earlier: Jazz had a problem with her heart now.

'No news is good news' had to be the motto I lived with right now.

My heart ached for my friend. I wanted to go see her; I wanted to reassure myself that she really would be all right. I knew, though, that even if Tucker and I went to the hospital, we wouldn't be allowed to see her: immediate family only. It seemed to be that it was a little unfair that only blood-relation be allowed in to see a person. If I was in the ICU, I'd want more than just my mother and father there. I'd want to see Tara, Leslie, Tucker, and Jazz. They'd bring more comfort to me than my parents would, and I'd probably go insane with parents and nurses as my only visitors when I was on my sick bed.

Not that Jazz was aware of visitors. Tucker had told me that she'd been unconscious ever since she was taken into the hospital.

"Sammy?" Mother called, stepping into the kitchen. "How is your friend? Your father told me what happened."

"He's asleep. I'm just making some lunch for when he gets up."

Mother ran her fingers through my hair and kissed my cheek. "You're such a wonderful woman, Sam. Sometimes I wonder how we got so lucky."

I said nothing. I never knew how to respond when she talked like that.

"The girl … Is it Jasmine Fenton?"

"Yes, why?"

"Vlad Masters just sent out an invitation. On Saturday he's having a little get-together for people to show their support for Jazz. The Fentons, apparently, don't have the exact finances to handle this. I know they've gotten wealthier as of late – Amity gossip filled me in on their rise to fame – but I also know that a lot of it is currently tied up. Vlad is a close friend of theirs. Did you know he went to college with Maddie and Jack before they were married?"

I shook my head, eyes staring with disbelief.

"No? Well, he did. Anyhow, he wants to host this little benefit to make sure that Jazz's hospital bills would be covered. He told your father, in confidence of course so don't share this, Samantha, that he tried to offer the money to them outright, but they couldn't take it. It may have something to do with pride, though I have no idea. I don't actually know that Fentons that well, though their poor little girl." Here, Mother paused and shook her head. "I know what it's like to sit around a hospital bed to see if your daughter will ever wake up. I don't wish that on anyone."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, because it was the right thing to say. I had caused the grief lines currently etched on my mother's face, and I could never take it back.

"It's all right, honey." Mother rubbed my arm. "Anyway, we've been invited to the get together. I know she's a friend of yours. Would you like to attend with us?"

I nodded. "Anything to support Jazz."

"It's formal, so make sure you find something appropriate." Mother kissed my cheek. "Careful you don't overcook your pasta."

I rolled my eyes but when I turned my attention back to the noodles, they were clearly getting close to that point. I yanked the pot away from the burner and poured the contents through the strainer. I returned it all to the pot and stirred the sauce in, taking comfort from the repetitive movements.

It was hard to believe that Jazz was in the hospital; that she was in such danger. I didn't want to believe that my friend was so close to death (though I hardly dared to think the word for fear of jinxing something).

And Vlad must be a nice guy, if he was willing to offer Maddie and Jack so much money upfront and, then when they refused, go on to host a benefit party for her. It was a nice gesture; a generous gesture.

I wanted to tuck away the creepy feeling he gave me, I honestly did. Not only was he Gregor's beloved guardian, but I thought his gesture was incredibly great. Yet, I'd ignored my instincts before. I had been suspicious of Phantom and the lies he'd told me long before he'd actually told me the truth. Every time, though, I had let his lies and my emotions get in the way of seeing the truth and it had led me to getting my heart broken. I knew something was wrong with Vlad and I knew that I had to find out what it was.

Because in my life, things never got better; they only ever became worse.

I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: Forever Sky.

~TLL~