hold on
hold on to yourself for this is gonna hurt like hell
hold on
hold on to yourself
you know that only time can tell,
what is it in me that refuses to believe,
this isn't easier than the real thing
my love,
you know that you're my best friend

The entire house shook as the door slammed shut in the Leery household. Gail flinched at the kitchen table.

"Dawson?" she called out. Silence. Eventually he entered the room, a scowl on his face and his fists balled at his sides.

"Yeah." Mrs. Leery was confused. What had made him so angry? A visit to Pacey often meant a cheerful return.

She reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm. "Honey, what's wrong?" He took a deep breath.

"It's hard to explain, Mom."

"Try."

"I went over to see Pacey and find out what was wrong. He seemed really jumpy and upset, but he said he was fine." He paused and ran a hand through his dirty-blonde hair. "I could tell something was up just by the look on his face. Then he tells me that he was the one who was raped!"

Gail closed her eyes. She had known for a few weeks, but didn't feel it was her place to tell Dawson. "And what did you say?"

"I told him to tell me the truth. He said it was the truth." Dawson stopped and banged his fist against the table. "Then I basically called him a liar and left."

"Oh, Dawson, you didn't." She brought a delicate hand to her mouth and tried not to scream at the top of her lungs. More than a few interviews with rape victims had taught her that they only wanted support.

"I did, why?"

"Because he was telling you the truth!"

you know that i'd do anything for you and my love,
let nothing come between us,
my love for you is strong and true
am i in heaven here or am i

Pacey tried his best, but the dish he was carrying tipped and shook. The soup threatened to fall as Pacey sobbed. Doug quickly rushed over and grabbed the plate. He set it down on the table gently.

"Pacey, please, just relax." He draped an arm around Pacey's shoulders and pulled him close. It seemed to make Pacey cry harder.

Mrs. Witter approached the tender scene before and felt close to tears herself. For the first time in weeks Pacey had come downstairs, but he didn't look any better. Why was he pretending to be so strong?

She moved closer and gently separated her sons and held Pacey to her. His sobs made her shake as well. "Come on, Pacey, you need to go lie down." Pacey reluctantly agreed and allowed his mother to lead him to the couch.

Pacey stared at the ceiling trying his best to stop crying. He felt like such a baby. For the first time in his entire life his parents were treating him like they cared about him. It was nice, but under the wrong circumstances. Would they still care about him when he was feeling better and this was all over? Not like he was faking, but he was afraid to act strong.

That wasn't an easy task after his visit from Dawson. He knew that being raped by his male teacher was a tough story to believe, but wasn't your best friend supposed to do just that? Trust you no matter what. Dawson's reaction had been just the opposite. He was actually angry with Pacey for telling him what was really wrong.

Thinking about it made him want to cry all over again. And he did.

***

"What?! You're joking, right? This is a joke. It has to be," Dawson said sounding hopeless. He had said all those horrible things to Pacey without even knowing all the facts. This had to be a joke. Please let it be a joke.

"I wish I was, Dawson. But it's true. I've known for a long time," Gale explained, now feeling awful about not telling Dawson in the first place. "Mr. Witter called me and asked me to keep everything quiet. So far I've done my best to do just that. I'm sorry, sweetheart, I should have told you."

Dawson nodded numbly. "Why didn't you tell me? You can trust me." Gale sighed not wanting to discuss it much further.

"I didn't feel it was my place. If Pacey had wanted you to know he would have told you, Dawson." She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. "This is exactly why he didn't, I guess."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You should have supported him and believed him! You're his best friend!" Dawson felt the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. How could he have done this to Pacey?

"I know, Mom, I know," he said sadly.

"Just make it right, Dawson." A few tears escaped as Dawson nodded. As he walked out of the room, he turned to look back at his mother. He had disappointed her, too.

hold on
hold on for this is going to hurt like hell
hold on

"See anything interesting?" John Witter asked as he joined his son on the front porch swing. Doug laughed.

"Not as interesting as what's going on inside this house," he replied. His father nodded in agreement. "How is he?"

"Sleeping, as usual."

"As usual." They sat in silence, staring peacefully out at the night sky. The stars were beautiful and they tried to enjoy the view as best they could. But there was obviously too much melancholy to enjoy anything at the moment.

Doug turned to his father. "They're airing it soon, aren't they?"

"Yes." Doug cursed under his breath. "My thoughts exactly. I tried, Doug, I really tried."

"What are we going to do?"

Mr. Witter threw his hands up in the air. "What can we do?! This is going to destroy him and there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"You can get him some help, Dad. Let him talk to someone, a professional. They can at least help him deal with it."

"He talks to me, isn't that enough?"

"No, it isn't. He needs real help. Maybe some kind of medication. Can't you see that he's depressed, Dad? He's sick and he needs more than just our support."

Mr. Witter opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by a scream coming from within the house. He and Doug looked at each other for a brief moment before rushing into the house. They didn't even notice the figure watching from the front yard.

"You can't hurt me anymore," Pacey whispered into the phone. "You can't."

"Of course I can, and I will. You ruined my life, Pacey and now I'm going take yours."

"No, please, no," he begged. Ragged breathing on the other end was his only response. Pacey screamed and slammed the phone against the wall.

Within a few seconds he was surrounded by his father, mother, and brother. "Who were you talking to, Pacey?" his mother asked, sounding frantic.

"It was him," Pacey replied in a shaking voice. He sobbed and handed the phone to Doug. "He's still on, I can hear him breathing." Doug picked it up and held it to his hear.

"If you would like to make a call, please hang up and try a-" Doug hung up the phone.

Mrs. Witter looked at her husband and mouthed, "It never rang." His eyes went wide. Now Pacey was hearing things. Maybe Doug was right, Pacey needed professional help.

She turned to face Pacey. "Sweetheart, there was nobody on the phone. He's not on the phone. It didn't ring." But she wasn't looking at him. His eyes were glazed and fixed at something over her shoulder. She and her husband turned simultaneously.

Pacey stood and grabbed a glass off the counter. He raised it as if he was preparing to throw it. "You can't hurt me anymore!" he screamed as he heaved the glass as hard as he could.

The man dodged it and threw his arms in front of his face to protect himself. Doug ran towards him. "Dawson, are you okay? Did anything hit you?" Dawson shook his head.

"No, I'm fine." Pacey looked shocked. He had seen Mr. Bristol. Not Dawson. He was there. His family and Dawson all turned to stare at him. Never had he felt so incredibly stupid.

He sank to his knees. "It wasn't Dawson." Covering his face with his hands he began to sob and shake. Was he going crazy?

His father put a hand on his shoulder and Pacey quickly slapped it away. "Pacey, it's okay." He crouched down beside his son. "We know you didn't mean to."

There was no answer. Dawson walked over and sat, Indian style, next to Pacey. "I believe you now. I'm sorry." Pacey looked up.

"You do?"

"Of course." Pacey smiled sadly. Dawson returned it.

Like it? Hate it? Think I'm a sicko? Feedback at [email protected]

Part 4

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