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ACTUALLY: THESE ARE THE MORE MOSTEST IMPORTANTEST WORDS:

YOU'RE GONNA GET AN UPDATE TOMORROW! 3 PROBLEM SOLVED! THANK YOU TO THE WONDERFUL MODERATORS AT FANFICTION, MOST ESPECIALLY HORUSTHEAVENGER.

Let me stop shouting now. Really, though, HorustheAvenger. Brilliant moderator. Love, love, love.

Meg picked up and put down her phone so many times she was convinced she'd wear fingerholds into it before she actually called Randy or Dave. The clock read 4:38 AM, and try as she might to convince herself that either man would be asleep, the only person actually resting was Joe.

Joe. The crux of her problem, possibly the decision she shouldn't have repeated, was laying shirtless in bed with her, one arm behind his head, the other laying protectively across the front of her hips, effectively pinning her in place. 'And still...I'm missing something. That feeling. Confusion, fear, okay – that's all there. A lot of what Joe said makes sense, but a lot of what he said...makes no sense at all. But that other feeling.' Her body registered the ghost of Randy's hand trailing down her shoulderblade, and the sensation immediately thrilled her into a purr of absolute delight. 'Randy. Joe has a lot more explaining to do.' Joe's hand squeezed her thigh, and Meg shifted uncomfortably, in part from the pressure on her cigarette burn, and in part because her reverie broke.

"You okay, babygirl?" Joe didn't move a muscle; didn't open his eyes, but somehow knew she was awake.

"Yep. Getting read to take off, actually. You made it through the night, so I think you can handle yourself in here for a couple days. It's really just a question of ice and pain control, and Dave can do that. I can't be here, legally, doing this stuff...I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm better if you stay..." 'The fuck got in to you? Go to sleep. I want you here later in the morning. You're a sucker for breakfast on the balcony.'

"I know, Joe. But it's not a good idea. You've got your fiancee, I've got..." Meg trailed off. "I've got issues. You know that. And you don't do drama."

Joe winced; he hadn't expected Meg to throw his words back at him. "Babygirl...no.. Please?"

"I can't. I have a lot to think about. Plus, I have to get Sarah's car back to her. Practical shit, you know? How about I check on you later, we split the difference, something like that? She leaned up and kissed his cheek gently. "Okay? I need to think." Her mind felt Randy's hands on her shoulders again, and she shivered.

Joe frowned, but moved his arm. "I can't keep you here, can I?"

Meg slid off the bed, yawning heavily. "Nope. Not this time."

Joe waited til she was well out of the room before rolling his eyes and shifting off the bed to examine himself in the bathroom mirror. Randy had blackened most of his face, a situation he was going to pay for at the first possible opportunity. "Such an asshole, Orton. Such an asshole. And I'm not letting you walk away with her, either. Whether or not I want her. And fuck, it's not like I know what to do with her. But know this – you can't have her."

Meg tapped her phone against the steering wheel as she drove, Randy's number up on the screen. She backspaced over it, and dialed Dave instead. 'Dave is logical. He's going to understand why I left with Joe. Nothing happened between us. Joe was just hurt. Hurt bad. Someone needed to take care of him. And Randy...was I scared? Yeah. Just like he's scared of me.'

The phone rang what felt like an infinite number of times, with Dave's sleep-laden voice finally materializing on the line. He'd fumbled for his phone so hard that he'd nearly knocked himself off of Randy's sofa.

"H'lo? Megs? You okay?" He bit back a yawn and tried to backpaw the sleep from his eyes. "It's barely five in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?"

Randy, restless as anything, had paced his house the entire night, now charging into the den and trying to snatch the phone from Dave. "Is that her? Is she okay? What the fuck was she thinking? Did he do something to her? I swear to God, I really will kill him -" He slammed into the back of the sofa so hard he half-knocked the air from his lungs, causing his teeth to start to chatter as a cold sweat coated his body. 'Oh my God. Fucking ribs.'

Dave pushed Randy's roving hands away from his phone and face, almost falling from the sofa again. "Hang on, Meg. Don't hang up." He put his hand over the receiver and fixed a near-lethal glare on Randy. "You need to stop. I can't put her on speaker or she'll know something's up. You want to be nosy? Sit the fuck down, shut your mouth, and lean in. But don't talk. I swear to God, Orton, you're like a goddamned girl." He gave Randy a few moments to limp over to the sofa and settle in before going back to the call, hoping Meg hadn't heard him.

"You still there, Meg? Randy was hovering, so I had to move. I stayed at his place; his back was killing him. It didn't look like Joe tagged him, but...he said he fell. Ribs, too. He just didn't tell you any of that. Like his usual dumbass self." Randy elbowed Dave, hard, and the older man nearly coughed into the phone.

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm surprised Randy let you move. As in, I don't believe he did. So cut the bullshit. He's probably next to you." Meg bounced her leg irritably while she drove.

"Fine. Busted. But it doesn't make a difference, we have the same questions."

"And I have some that are just for you, Dave. So he really does need to fuck off."

Dave tried to get his legs under him and extricate himself from the depth of the leather couch, staggering from exhaustion toward the nearest thing that resembled a bathroom. Randy, too sore to rise off the couch and go after him with any degree of speed, threw a small pillow at him and mouthed that he'd be outside the door. Meg waited til she heard the door lock behind Dave before she continued.

"Can I get my shit out of the way first, before he gets up to whatever door you locked and gets nosy again?"

"Could I stop you, Meg?"

"Fuck you. Anyway," she continued, "Do you know what really happened last night? I got Joe's version, and it's...a lot of it sounds like what Randy told me, but with more detail. More truth, maybe? About shit in the past, anyway. But about what set last night in motion, I don't know. And Joe's all fucked up now."

"He told me bits and pieces. I don't know how much was in order; he's out of his mind from his back and he won't let me do anything about it. Honestly, I think he's hoping you show up and-"

"About last night, Dave. Focus."

"Christ, Meg, I'm getting there. You walked off with Joe, and he lost it. Started punching the hell out of the crate all over again, screaming about how you were falling for bullshit, you're not broken, not needy, not desperate, he didn't understand what you saw in Joe. That kind of thing. Then, something about Joe talking about you in bed. Er..." Dave cleared his throat, and Meg could hear his feet shuffle around the floor. "Meg, this is awkward."

"You think it's any easier for me to hear it from you?"

"He said a lot about shit in Seattle. Er, not in Seattle, but you know what I mean."

"Okay, that's not awkward. We didn't do anything. Like I told you. We stayed at that resort together. My shirt came off – once. We drank. But nothing actually happened. Randy was beyond respectful."

Dave inhaled deeply, paused, and then rapid-fired his next sentence, trying to get it out of the way. "Then Randy said Joe was talking to someone about sleeping with you. Things you did in bed. That kind of shit."

Meg winced. 'Okay, all of that stayed consistent. And I do care that Joe was talking about that, nevermind what I said to Randy. Why would he be talking about that with family? Doesn't make sense.' "Okay. Uncomfortable. What else?" Meg counted cars as they crossed the intersection while she waited at a red light, trying to make order of her thoughts.

"I think he broke his hand. Something in his hand. He won't go out for that. Or his back. Or ribs. He hasn't slept – just keeps pacing around the house. Meg, he's on the brink."

"Of what?" She gunned the car through the intersection. "Of beating the shit out of someone else?" 'He said he'd never hurt you, Meg. He's never hurt you, Meg. Stop being a bitch.'

"No, Meg. Of having a nervous breakdown. He needs you." 'He loves you. And I'm about ten seconds away from driving him to your apartment and leaving him on your doorstep, because I'm sick of both of you.'

Randy chose that moment to thump his shoulder against the door, announcing his presence in as un-subtle a way as possible. Dave and Meg groaned almost simultaneously.

"Okay. Then can you do me two favors? You were probably going to do them already anyway."

Dave silently unfastened the lock and opened the door slowly, praying the hinges wouldn't squeal. He wanted to give Randy time to adjust his weight so he wouldn't fall through. "Go ahead, Meg. Shoot." Dave immediately held a finger up to his lips and glared at Randy, warning him to complete silence.

"I'm guessing you're going to – ow!" Meg grunted as she went over a speed bump in the apartment parking lot and was tossed unceremoniously against the driver's door; Randy's eyes went wide and he reached for the phone, hearing her yelp. Dave reflexively slapped at Randy's hand, momentarily forgetting how bruised it was from the night before, and Randy's knees nearly went out from under him from the pain. He caught himself on the frame of the door, wrenching his back in the process, which caused him to let go of the frame and land on the floor with a thump. "Shit. I'm almost home. Anyway. I'm guessing – Dave, what was that noise?" Meg brought Sarah's car to a complete stop en route to the rental office. "Is everything okay?"

Dave dropped to his knees next to Randy, trying to roll him onto his back. "Uh...uh, yeah, Meg, everything's fine. Go ahead. You were guessing?" Randy's face was contorted into a grimace, but with his uninjured hand stuffed into his mouth, he was doing his best to hold back any yell that might alert Meg to the situation.

"You're a fucking terrible liar, but whatever. I was guessing you were going to see Joe later. Can you...can you talk to him? There's just something off about all of this. I can understand Joe wanting to see me. I can maybe even understand the impulse to apologize. But he's suddenly so focused on..." Meg trailed off, gently easing the car over the next speed bump. "Look. I don't know. I can't word it right. I usually can't word it right, just ask Ran." She chuckled wryly. "Just...talk to him, please? I don't even know what I'm looking for. Your opinion, I guess. What you think about what he thinks."

"Okay, Meggie. I can do that. What was the other thing?" Dave was still on the floor next to Randy, trying to check his hand and spine, but Randy kept pushing him away.

"Can I talk to Randy? I know he's there."

Dave winced, not sure how to make the call work when Randy could barely catch a breath. "Uh...hang on?" He clamped his hand over the phone and whispered. "Randy. Randy! Hey! Focus. Meg wants to talk to you. Can you? C'mon, focus. I know, it hurts. I'm sorry – I fucked up, I wasn't thinking. Talk to her. It's Meg."

Limply, shakily, and with tooth marks on his hand, Randy reached for Dave's phone. "H-hey, Meggie. Listen...I'm s-sorry about last night."

"Jesus, Ran, you sound terrible." Meg's breath caught in her throat. She still hadn't gotten out of Sarah's car, and Sarah was standing outside of the rental office looking at her strangely. "What's wrong? Do you need me to come over? I shouldn't have-"

"No. Y-you were right. I...I..." Randy couldn't breathe deeply enough for a long sentence, and it was beginning to scare him. 'How hard did he get his knee into my ribs? What do I do?'

"Randy...you're hurt. What can I do?" 'Please? Please can I come do something?'

'You could have done something last night. You could have trusted me. You could have come with me when I asked.' "No-Nothing. No, Meg. Dave. Dave's here." His voice was pure spite.

"Goddamnit, Randy! No! You're hurt! Please? Please, let me help?" Sarah disappeared into the rental office for a few seconds and came back out with a piece of paper and pen, knocking on the window of the car and passing the items to Meg when she rolled the window down.

'Everything OK?' Sarah's handwriting was more prim than Meg expected.

'No.' Meg wrote quickly, then passed the note and pen, her cigarettes and lighter, and the car keys, to Sarah.

"Meg. I'm fine. F-fine. Dave's go-got it." Dave took that opportunity to snatch the phone back from Randy, who immediately balled up onto his side on the floor and started a coughing fit.

"Meg, he's a mess. I'll see what I can get done here, and call you back in a half hour. If he's not any better, yeah. Then I need you to come." In the background, she could hear Randy saying 'no' over and over. Sarah lit a cigarette outside the car and handed it back to Meg, then lit one for herself and waited patiently.

"Dave...tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I'm so sorry." Meg's voice was whisper-thin, smoke pouring from her mouth like a withered, dying dragon. "Please..." She looked down at her phone and pressed the red icon on the screen.

Randy's eyes were frozen open, and he wheezed for air. Landing as hard as he did over the back of the couch, then wrenching his back, had finished the job Joe started, and his ribs gave up, the cartilage and discs shifting fully and awkwardly. 'Why did I tell her no? What was I saying no to? I want her here. I want her. She scared me, and I scared her. Then she wanted to be here, and I told her no. I asked her to leave. So we both fucked up. I need her.' He felt his eyes watering, and wasn't sure if it was pain, exhaustion, or something else entirely. His hands clutched at the air of their own volition, as though he could conjure Meg out of nothing and then hold her in place.

-'Meg, stop! Seriously, you've got to stop. I'm gonna get the Ace wrap and bungee you in place if you don't. I'm not letting go til you calm the fuck down.'

'Randy, if I want to kill her, I can kill her. Did you read the same settlement you showed me? Did you? Or did it not sink in yet?'

'It sank in. Believe me, it sank in. I'm fucked, at least short-term. And it's sweet of you to offer to murder my ex-wife. But it'd be awfully hard for me to visit you in prison. My travel schedule sucks.'

Meg stopped struggling in his arms long enough to fix him with a screwball look, and then burst into laughter.

'I'd have to get caught, first. Are you saying you'd narc me out? Traitor.' She nudged her hips against him; he hadn't let go of her arms. He nudged back at her, nearly knocking her out of his arms. 'Jesus, heifer! You trying to dislocate something on me?'

'Well, if I break your legs, you can't chase her down and destroy her. So, ma-aybe.' He waggled his eyebrows at her and bumped her forward again, this time stepping forward with her momentum.

'Ohmigod! Stop!' Meg's laughter was wild, and she tried to paw her arms loose from under his, but he snugged his tighter around her. Randy nudged her around the triage bay until he spun her in his arms and backed her into a corner, smiling gently down at her. The look on his face was strangely warm, and Meg abruptly stopped her laughter in order to puzzle up at him.

'Meggie. Seriously, though. Don't...don't do anything crazy. Sam's being a bitch, but I have lawyers for it. He pushed a few stray tendrils of hair back from her face, not realizing his antics had knocked so much loose from her ponytail. 'And if she did anything to you, I really would lose it.'

'Ran, what could she do to me? Sue for my beat-ass car and my student loan debt?' Meg rolled her eyes. 'If she shows up here, she's getting punched. Minimally. Period. She doesn't get to fuck with you like that. And she's sure as shit not going to swing on me.'

Randy pulled her into his arms, hard and impulsively, and Meg lost her balance forward, having to grab on to him to stop herself from turning his embrace into a crash. 'Meggie...just...Meggie,' he mumbled into the top of her head, 'At least you care. Like a fucking tornado, but you care.'-

"I've got to get you off the floor, Randy. It's going to hurt. But you can't stay there. Can you sit up?" Dave's voice had no confidence in it whatsoever, and Randy looked equally unsure about his ability to put together any sort of coordinated movement. His vision was swimming, his ears were ringing, and he was beginning to feel a vague tingle in his legs. His teeth had never stopped chattering.

"D-dave? C-call her? P-please c-call her?"

"Yeah. We need some help. We do need that."

Meg was in the middle of her second cigarette, alternating between deep puffs of her Parliament and digging her nails through the cellophane wrappers around her convenience-store caramels before passing some to Sarah. Barely three minutes had gone by since she ended her call with Dave, and she clutched her phone under her pack of cigarettes and lighter, mouth full of sticky sugar, garbling words to Sarah about the disaster her night-into-morning had been. When her ringtone exploded into the air, she bobbled everything she held, most of it ending up hurled across the sidewalk. Sarah's hands were unoccupied, and she snagged Meg's phone before it hit the ground, answering the call on the second ring. Meg set about collecting her detritus and cursing at herself for cracking her lit cigarette.

"Meg's phone, this is Sarah, and you are?" Sarah had a lilt of amusement in her voice as she watched Meg chase down her remaining unlit cigarettes in the breeze, most of the pack having spilled onto the sidewalk.

"Sarah?" Dave's voice was confused. "The apartment manager? Is she in trouble?"

"No, she dropped all her shit. We're smoking. Snacking. Snoking? I don't think she expected her phone to ring. Are you in trouble?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm in trouble. This is Dave. Can I talk to her? It's kind of an emergency." He looked at Randy, who had curled himself into an even-smaller bunch on the floor, still shaking. "No, uh, it's actually an emergency."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Meg! Hey, Meg! C'mere. It's Dave." Meg, who had just finished picking up all of her cigarettes, promptly dropped everything back onto the pavement and nearly planted her foot straight through her pack.

"What happened? You said thirty minutes, not three minutes! Is he okay?"

"He asked for you, Meg. Can you get here, or do you need me to come get you?"

"I don't know, Dave. Hang on." Before Meg had her phone fully away from her face, Sarah had tossed the car keys back over to her.

"Just put gas in it. Go." She opened the driver's side door, shutting it after Meg got in, and passing her handfuls of candies and cigarettes over to her. "Don't forget your shit, either. Lighter's in the pack."

Dave threw a blanket over Randy, who hadn't stopped shivering. He couldn't move him; Randy flinched no matter how or where he was touched. Now it was a waiting game; Meg was still on the phone, but was stuck in highway traffic. What they all assumed would be a fast trip was stretching into an interminable wait. Every so often, Randy turned bleary eyes up to Dave, who could only look down with pity and whisper that she was coming, would be there soon, was driving right then.

"Meg, is there any way for you to get off the highway? Or are you between ramps?"

"I'm not just between ramps, there are no ramps. It's just lanes. I'm stuck. I think it's an accident. I know it's an accident." She cringed; she didn't want to see it or drive past it.

Dave, reading the tension in her voice, tried to work her through it. "Just breathe, hon. When you get there, just keep your eyes forward, okay? Maybe it'll be gone by the time you get there." 'This is not what I need. She's going to be either hysterical or catatonic when she gets here, and he's already non-functional.'

Meg shifted irritably. Her bones ached just thinking about the idea of a highway accident. Jackson's bloody fingers caressed her neck and played in her hair, and she was sure she looked insane to the people slow-cruising next to her as she swatted at the spectre in the car with her. "How is he doing, Dave?"

"How? Meg, I don't even know what." Dave cast a sidelong glance at Randy. If it wasn't for the shiver coursing through him, he otherwise appeared comatose. Dave couldn't get him to accept ice or water, couldn't get him to roll from his side to his back, couldn't get him to stretch flat or sit up, nothing. And it wasn't a simple case of Randy being uncooperative – it was as though he wasn't mentally present, wasn't hearing Dave's voice at all.

"Can I talk to him? Please?" 'It's as much for me as for him. I see the lights up ahead. I can't. I'm in the wrong lane. I have to go past it. It's right there.' Jackson's hands tightened in Meg's hair.

"He's...not talking, Meg. You can talk at him. But I wouldn't expect a conversation."

"I'll take it." Meg's words were choked, and she heard Dave rustling in the background.

Dave tried his best to get Randy's attention. "Hey, you with me? Your Meggie's on the phone. She wants to talk to you. I guess just listen, right? She knows you don't feel good, so it's okay if you don't say anything. She's on her way." He placed the phone near Randy's mouth on the off-chance he did try to talk, and set it to speaker. "Hey, Meg? Try to talk him into doing something helpful, like taking some ice. He's scaring me. And you know I don't say that shit lightly. I'm gonna go try to work his outside lights and get the doors unlocked." Dave's footfalls grew distant, and Meg breathed deeply, trying to steady her nerves.

"Hey, Ran. You listening to Dave?" She heard shaky breathing, but nothing else despite leaving an ample pause. "If you can, try and take some ice, okay? You know I'm just going to make you take it when I get there." Meg sniffled, half-amused, half-serious. 'What happened to you?' She heard a dry groan, and snapped back into the conversation, such that it was.

"Hon? Please, talk to me. I'm coming. I'm coming right now." She squeezed her eyes shut, hard, and let go a shaky breath. "I wish I was there already. I wish I just ignored you earlier and showed up when you said you didn't want me, because I have to drive by this fucking accident, and it's bad, and you know what? I'm scared. All of this shit was always better when you were there with me, even when I was seeing things. I know you knew. You were just nice enough not to say anything." The lights from the ambulance and police cars were in her car now, and she could feel Jackson's blood dripping down her face. Much like her accident, the car was crushed into the concrete median, a white sheet covering part of the windows. A whimper escaped her throat, and she ducked her head down involuntarily. "Please, Randy. I don't have the right to ask you for fucking anything. I'm so sorry. I never-"

"Meg? Hey, Meg!" Dave's voice yelled at a distance, and Meg clapped her mouth shut so hard that her teeth clicked together. "Meg, you there?" The phone slid across the floor, Dave apologizing to Randy for taking it. "Hon? Still there?"

Meg kept her head low til she was well past the accident, despite driving at normal highway speeds. "Yeah. Yeah Dave, I'm here." Her voice was completely atonal.

"I got the outside lights on, and there's space in the driveway. I called up to the gatehouse, too, so they should just let you in. You doing okay?"

"I'll be there in a few." Meg cut the line off.

Dave rolled his eyes and tossed his phone over Randy onto the bathroom counter. "You're stuck with me til she gets here, Randy. And she's fucked up now, too." He stepped around to Randy's face and offered him ice, but he still refused to move his lips. "And, in case you're counting, you've been laying in your bathroom doorway all day. It would be good if you could, I don't know, move."

'Dave, she's not here. She says she's coming, and when she does, I'll fuck up again. You'll be here, so she won't really talk to me – she can't, it's not how she works – and even if she does, I'll fuck up. It's the one thing I'm good at. Always have been. She's afraid of me. She went back to Joe, and he's going to use her and break her. She won't let me pick up the pieces again. There won't even be pieces left this time. How did I fuck this up with her? The one thing I wanted to do right, tried to do right, and no.'

Randy felt his eyes roll back in his head as a doorbell rang distantly, and he decided in that moment that as much as he wanted to care that Meg came, it was caring that let him break his own heart in the first place.