Disclaimer: I don't own Pacey, but I do own Liz, Josie, Chad and any others you don't recognize from the show.

Authors Note: Please send feedback! This story is very important to me and I'd appreciate any feedback you can provide.

The blond haired woman of thirty- nine made her way up the crumbling stone steps to the home of her youth. It had become habit for her to visit her father once a week. He had a live in nurse taking care of him, but she still felt the need to come and check on him every once in a while. Liz made sure that he was fed, took his pills, cleaned and genrally helped him around the house. There wasn't much he could do for himself anymore.

"Knock, knock." She called opening the door. "Hello?" Her voice echoed slightly down the hall. The house was large and beautifully decorated. Her mother had seen to that. Her mother had been an interior decorator and it showed around the house, the tastful paintings and color coordnated furnature proved it.

"We're in here." Liz called from the kitchen. She headed that direction. Her father sat at the table eating his dinner. He had once been a strong and energetic man. He had loved to tease and play with his three children. He was always open with his affection, constantly hugging and kissing them and his wife. There was always a michievous twinkle lurking in his bright green eyes. That twinkle was gone now.

At age 70, Pacey Witter was only a shell of himself. Old, wrinkled, and walking with a limp from when he broke his leg. But those were hardly the biggest changes.

"Hello, Josie." Liz greeted her.

"Hi, Liz." Pacey looked up at the new comer blankness on his aged face. It brought tears to Josie's eyes. Liz saw this interchange, in fact, she'd seen it one to many times over the past few months. She put her hand a top Pacey's wrinkled one.

"Pacey," She said gently, "This is your daughter, Josie."

"Josie... Jo-sie... Jo-ie..." He muttered to himself. His eyes gained a little light as he remembered something. Josie held her breath in anticipation. Maybe this time he would remember. " Joey. I knew a Joey when I was younger, she was quite the spitfire. I named my daughter after her." He told Josie and Liz proudly.

"We know, Dad, we know." Josie said quietly, giving her father a hug before sitting down. "How's he been today?"

"No better, no worse. We're going to go on our walk after he finishes eating."

"Do you mind if I take him?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Liz asked the slightly older woman. They had become friends over the past few years and knew each other quite well.

"No, the kids are fine without me today. They're planning on going to a football game and Brian's out of town with work until Wednesday."

"Oh, that's right. Yeah, that's fine. It'll give me a chance to get some errands done before Mark comes by."

Throughout the whole exchange between Josie and Liz, Pacey sat immobile, his conciousness sinking deeply into his vancant mind. His gaze was focused on a family portrait directly in front of him. He stared blankly at it, unable to match the faces to the fading memories he had left. The deterioration of the nerve cells in his brain keeping him from regonizing the man with a happy smile or the beautiful woman he had his arms around.

"Dad, will that be okay?" Josie asked.

"What?" He answered tearing his eyes away from the picture.

"Will it be okay if I take you on your walk?"

"Yes, yes... that's fine, ... uh ... um?" Pacey squinted, his eyes boring into Josie's, but empty of regonition. His brow furrowed deeply, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he tried to remember who she was.

The sharp quick mind of Pacey Witter was gone, eaten away by Alzheimers. He was moving backwards through time, becoming more and more childlike. It was anyones guess what his mind was like now... only he knew. It was grasping for straws through and endless smoky haze. Most days he was lost inside himself, unsure of where he was, what he was doing, who the people around him were. The disease had left him few memories of the last fifty years. The only thing he still remembered with any sense of clarity was his childhood in Capeside up through his college years. The numerous pills he took helped once in a while, but Alzheimers has no cure.

Josie knew how it would end. He'd die alone curled up in a fetal position, a newborn in every sense of the word, unable to walk, talk, or eat. There would be nothing left of the warm nurturing father she had known. It tore her apart to see him like this. She had moved back to Capeside with her family a month after his condition got worse.

At first, it had been his short term memory, he hadn't thought much of it when he constantly forgot where he put his keys. Or when he forgot to turn off the stove. But when he forgot where he lived he grew worried and made an appointment with the family doctor, Dr. Leery, Dawson's son. After numerous tests with a specialist Brendan Leery diagnosed Pacey with Alzheimers. Brendan had grown up with Josie and thought of Pacey as a second father. He hadn't meant to break down when he explained all the complications to Pacey, but he had. Pacey had hugged him tightly, comforted the younger man as a father would. He had stayed strong for them all. Through the next ten years he'd been the strong one... until he no longer knew what being the strong one meant.

Brendan Leery had called her four years ago, he was like a brother to her, the Leerys were as much family as her father and mother had been. He'd choked on the words, "He's worse, Josie." Was all he said at first, trying to gain his own composure. "He didn't remember who I was today." He struggled to keep his composure as he said the words. Josie cried then, letting Brian hold her as she talked with Brendan. She told him to make arrangements for a live in nurse. And a month later she moved back to her childhood home... Capeside.

Now, four years later, he was on every drug the Alzheimers specialists knew of. All that was left was to wait.

Josie waited patienly for her father to finish eating, chatting with Liz about her fiance and the latest news from the doctors. He finished and waited patiently for Liz and... the woman to finsh talking. What was her name again? Oh yes, Joey... no, not Joey ... Josie. That's right.

"Liz..." He started, but nothing followed.

"Remember, Pacey. The dishwasher?" She reminded him gently pointing to the machine in the corner of the room. It helped to make him do as much for himself as possible. Slowed the process down slightly... or at least the doctors hoped it would.

"Oh, yes." Pacey rose slowly, his old bones creaking and loaded first his glass, then his silverware into the dishwasher. He closed the door and sat back down at the table between the two women. Josie looked into his eyes and then down at the table in defeat. Liz put her hand atop Pacey's, "The plate too, Pacey." She said gently.

He looked down at the dirty white plate in front of him. He sighed in frustration, he was fighting a losing battle, that much he knew, just as knew he'd continue fighting up until the end. Again he slowly rose and took the plate to the dishwasher.

"Pacey, Josie is going to go with you on your walk today. Are you ready to go?"

He nodded. Josie rose and walked to the poarch with him. Pacey stepped out onto the side walk, "Dad, your coat?" She reminded him kindly. She stepped back into the house and grabbed his coat from the rack and gave it to him.

"Don't forget your wallet." Liz called from the doorway. It was always important to have identification on him in case he wandered off. Ever since he'd gotten lost a few times, she made sure he always had at least three different forms of identification on him whenever he left the house.

Josie nodded and took the wallet from her and met Pacey at the foot of the stairs. Whoever thought he'd get lost in Capeside... She thought randomly, linking her arm through his as they slowly made their way down the sidewalk.

Pacey was happy just to be outside, breathing in the crisp, salty air. The sound of the leaves crunching beneith his feet, the brilliant oranges, reds and yellows of fall. They were few of the only pleasures left to him.

Josie let him lead, giving into her imagination, pretending she was a little girl again. Out with her father, strong, healthy, and remembered who she was.

Pacey stopped at a bench along the boardwalk and sat down, looking over the water. Josie listened to the lulling sound of the water fountain behind her in contented silence. A young man walking his dog stopped next to them. "Hello, Mr. Witter."

"Hi, ..." He struggled to find a name for the face before him.

"Chad, sir."He reminded the elderly man. The small beagle had put her paws up on the edge of the bench and was wagging her tail happily at Pacey.

Pacey patted the empty space next to him, the dog immediatly jumped up and began licking his hands. "Hey there boy, you're such a good dog, Grimby," he nuzzled the dog under the chin.

Josie frowned. "Grimby was our dog, Dad." She said, Pacey made no indication that he had heard her. He had, but he had no recolection of even owning a dog. He tried hard, so hard to remember, searching his tattered memory, but it was no use. There were years of his life locked away in darkness, years he would never recover. Josie watched his eyes closely, hoping to see a glimer of recognition... There was none. She sighed, "Hi, I'm Josie King. Pacey's daughter." She held out her hand to Chad.

"Chad Williams." He introduced himself. He looked to be in his early twenties. He sat down next to Josie, letting the dog play with Pacey. "I was wondering who you were. Usually Liz comes with him."

"I decided to give her some time to get some errands done." She paused, curious, "You'll have to excuse my forwardness, but... how do you know my dad?"

"Oh, they stop at this exact bench everyday at about this time. I'm usually walking Tawnee at that time. She got loose one day and made a bee line for him. They started playing so I stopped and talked with Liz for a while." He explained.

"He stops at this bench every day?" She asked.

"Yep, right in front of the museum. On one of his better days he recalled enough to explain the signifigance of it to me. He's an amazing story teller."

Josie nodded, she smiled at the memory of that story. It had been one of her favorites as a child. He and her mom had shared their first kiss just a few feet away from where the sat, they'd had their first major break-up on that bench... he'd proposed to her on that bench, she'd told him they were pregnant on that bench. She hoped her father still had those memories...

Chad rose, "Thanks, it was nice talking to you." he said before continuing on his way.

The continued to sit there in silence, Pacey was watching the boats sail pass. Josie wondered how much longer they were going to sit there, it had begun to grow chilly. She was about to mention it when Pacey abruptly rose and began to walk in the direction of downtown. Josie's brow furrowed suprise but she quickly followed behind him.

He stepped out onto the road without looking. A blue sedan was heading for him and he still didn't acknowledge it. Josie rushed the few feet between them and pulled him back from the street, panic in her eyes. "Dad! You can'd do that! Watch where you're going, please!" she cried, pulling him to her. Shock and confusion shown in his eyes, but hugged the woman back tightly. He didn't understand. Josie pulled away with a sigh and shook her head. It was no use, he couldn't understand anymore than a five year old could.

She linked her arm through his again and let him take the lead once more.

A few short minutes later they arrived downtown. Most of the shops had closed by now, Pacey walked slowly, seemingly not to care where they ended up. In truth, he wasn't thinking about where he was going... he was just going.

"Dad, where are we going?" Josie asked after a while. He didn't answer and just kept walking. "Dad? Pacey?"

His name caught his attentnion. "Yes,... yes..."

"Josie, Dad, I'm Josie... you're daughter, Josie." She said, her voice pleading with him to remember.

"Josie," He repeated, struggling to commit it to memory.

"Where are we going?" Pacey's eyes widened in surprise. His step faltered. The reminder that he didn't know, couldn't know, sparked fear and confusion in him. Josie noticed that the question was one he couldn't answer.

"Nevermind, Dad. It's okay." She nudged him gently to get him to start walking again. He remained standing, frustration, anger and fear still running through his veins. He allowed himself to calm down. Let the darkness to blanket his conciousness, blocking out the fear and anger, leaving him an empty vessel. He let the routine, the onlything he had left besides his emotions, take control of him.

He again began walking leading Josie down the sidewalk. Josie squeezed his arm reassuringly and held on tightly to him. She let her memories take her back in time to her childhood and the many happy memories she had of her father.

Pacey had been a good father. Always caring gentle and loving. Josie was thankful for all the wonderful times she had and her two brothers had shared with him. He always jumped at the chance to spend time with his family, they had taken many weekend sailing trips on their boat, 'True Love'. She smiled at the warm memory. He had brought her a dozen roses on opening night when she starred in her high school production of 'West Side Story'. But one memory stood out amoung the others.

Whne she had been about eight or nine, her mom had been sick and Pacey was left to get the kids ready for church. She'd been sitting on the floor between her fathers knees letting him braid her hair... well, maybe letting wasn't exactly the right word, She thought.

"Daddy, I can do it myself." She had protested, squirming.

"Oh, you can, can you? Well, I know that, and you know that, but Mommy doesn't and she asked me to do it for you. And since she's sick I think we should humor her." he teased. "There," he'd said when he was finished. "You look beautiful." Her braids were crooked and hair was already coming loose, her dress was buttoned up crooked and her socks didn't match. But she still rememebered the love and pride shining in his eyes. "You're buttons are done up wrong," he said reaching out to correct them.

"I'm eight years old, Daddy. I can do it myself," She'd protested darting away from him.

He let her finish before rising to chase after her, he let her think she could get away before swooping in to lift her from the ground, laughing. She was giggling and squiriming to get away. "No matter what, Pumpkin, you'll always be my little girl." He said hugging her.

Fourteen years later, she was pacing in a small dressing room, her long white gown trailing behind her. Pacey had leaned up against the doorjam with an amused smile on his lips, watching her pace and the bridesmaids flutter around her.

She caught his gaze in the mirror and he nodded, it was almost time. The bridesmaids left the room in a flurry of taffeta, leaving father and daugther alone. She crossed the distance to him swiftly and hugged him tightly, nervous tears squeexed through her lashes. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Pumpkin." He took her hand and squeezed it reassurance and led her through the door. Josie held Pacey's hand tightly as the first few cords of "Here Comes the Bride" echoed through the entry way of the church. "You look beautiful, Josie," he'd whispered into her ear.

Josie could see her mother in the first row on the left, she already held a hanky and was crying, on her left was her Uncle Jack. She could see her brothers, Tim and Mike standing with the best men as ushers. Behind her mother and Uncle Jack were her Uncle Dawson, Aunt Joey, and Brendan. Her Aunt Jen stood at the alter as one of her bridesmaids, her daughter Nicole, Josie's best-friend was the Maid of Honor. She took them all in with a glance, and the her eyes fixated on Brian, she grinned at him, all nervousness fleeing.

The walk down the isle had gone all to fast for Pacey. Just before they reached the alter, he whispered to her, "No matter what, you'll always be my little girl." he'd kissed her on the cheek before giving her hand to Brian and stepping away.

Josie's lips pulled taught in a bittersweet smile at the happy memory. A tear slipped down her cheek when she was reminded that she could never again the share the memory with her father... it was hers alone.

Pacey stopped then and made an unexpected right turn into the flower shop. Josie was unsure of what he wsas doing, but curious all the same, she didn't stop him. Nor did she ask, knowing her questions would only serve to confuse him more.

It was a small flower shop, with bouquets of brightly colored folliage seemingly jumping from the walls. Josie couldn't see the cashier until she'd walked halfway into the cramped store. Pacey walked up and down the isles slowly, examining the each flower, reaching out with his old worn fingers to caress their petals.

He walked to the cashier after a while, a woman somewhere around forty, Josie's age. The woman dissapeared into the small back room as he approached in fear, it seemed to Josie. He stood there empty handed and confused. Unsure of why he'd come in and why he was waiting there.

Josie signed unhappily, a scowl crossing her face. She took his arm, "Come on, Dad." She led him towards the door, pulling him along. Before they could make more than ten steps the cashier reapeared and stopped them.

"Wait." She placed a small bouquet of yellow tulips on the counter. Pacey returned happily, a little more energy in his step and lifted the flowers to his nose, inhaleing their scent.

Josie was taken aback, but seeing her father's smile, one that appeared all to rarely these days, she couldn't resist. "How much?"

"Oh, don't worry. It's been taken care of." She answered kindly, her gaze on Pacey's smiling face.

"By who?" Josie turned to the woman, curious. She knew Liz was unable to afford flowers on a regular basis, and who else would bother?

"Him," she answered gesturing to Pacey. Seeing Josie's perplexed look, she elaborated. "I know all about his ALzheimers. He told me about it a few years back, when he was still able to remember most things. He came in with 10,000 dollars and said he wanted to order five years worth of yellow tulips." She chuckled at the memory. Remembering the wide-eyed look she'd given the elderly man.

Josie had gone absolutly still as the woman told her the story... yellow tulips had been her mother's favorite flower.

"I, of course, asked him why, it's not every day we have someone come in with that much money. At the time I had just taken over ownership of the store, but he'd apperently been a customer for years. He explained the Alzheimers to me and what he was expecting." She smiled a tenderly, "He said he didn't want to forget to bring his wife flowers. Almost every day since then he's been coming here just before closing."

Josie closed her eyes against the burning sensation behind their lids. That was just like her father... the man he was before his mind had gone dark. She nodded to the woman her eyes still closed, she swallowed and opened them, "Thank You." She gently squeezed the womans hand before taking her fathers arm and leading him from the store.

This time with her father was giving her new insight into how his mind functioned now. He'd remembered the bench... well, not remembered exactly, but in some way, he knew intincivly to go there. And then the flower shop, again something had led him there. She wasn't sure what it was, maybe the routine kept him returning there, maybe in the recesses of his mind he remembered. She wondered exactly how far he would go without her leading, she knew without a doubt where is last stop would be. She just wondered if he'd get there on his own.

"Where to now, Dad?" Hope in her eyes.

"I don't know." He answered the woman... the woman he didn't recognize as his daughter. He felt he should know her, just as he should know where he was going. But try as he might he could find no answer to either question. He was fighing the shrouded darkness of his mind, but it was impossible to break through. He never stopped trying to fight the empty darkness.

Josie nodded, resigned to the fact, and sadded she let him take the lead once more. They made a left, crossed a few streets, with Josie keeping an eye out for the cars. The cemetary came into view and within a few silent moments they were within it's gates.

Once he had stepped into the cemetary his pace had become determined, he still walked with the slowness of old bones, but there was an added determination to it. As if being closer to his wife brought back a little of his old self.

The autumn leaves had just begun to fall, most still clung to their branches. The early eveing sun cast a golden light throughout the grounds, illuminating the greens, reds, oranges and golds of the leaves, casting an ethereal glow to their surroundings.

Josie followed Pacey down one of the familiar paths, she was heartened that he was able to remember the way. "Come on, Josie," He urged when she fell back a few steps. Her eyes widened at the sound of her name, it was the first time in a year that he'd said it without a reminder.

Pacey stepped off the trail, and onto the soft green grass. They passed eight or so grave stones, he didn't give any of them a second glance. At the ninth he stopped. Josie read the marker, though she knew the words by heart. "Josephine Potter-Leery, Jan. 9, 1983 - June 6, 2045, Loving wife and mother, 'I'm your biggest fan.'" Her name sake and Godmother. Pacey looked down at the grave a few moments before pulling a single red tulip from the surrouding yellow ones, Josie hadn't even noticed it there. He knelt and laid it on the marker next to three withered ones he'd placed there early that week.

They moved silently to the next marker. It was a double plot, a bronze plaque betweent the two stone ones. The left was blank, but the right read "Andrea Kathrine Witter, Sept. 23, 1982 - June 5, 2045." Her mother and Aunt Joey had been in a car accident on their way home from her Uncle's art show in Boston when a Semi had hit them full on. The man had been asleep behind the wheel, her mother had died instantly, her Aunt a mere six hours later. Her father had been devastated... they all had been... but he more so, losing both his wife and best-friend at once. The doctors said that was most likely what triggered the Alzheimers.

Pacey placed the flowers on the bronze plate between the two headstones, it read:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am a diamond glint on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gental autumn rain,
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush,
I am am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

It had been his idea to place there. Josie wrapped her arms around her father tightly. "Oh, Dad," she cried, "Why do you remember all this?" She was whining but she couldn't help it. She couldn't comprehend why he was able to remember this and not other things... like her.

"Pumpkin," he whispered in a crackly voice, kissing her on the top of her head. Josie looked up into his eyes. They were eyes she remembered, bright, laughing, warm and loving, the eyes she had grown up with. They were no longer dull, empty or scared. The love she had begun to feel she'd lost shown deep from his blue-green eyes, tears sprung to her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dad."

A few moments of clarity had come to Pacey when he had come close to Andie, he felt closer to her here than anywhere else. Strengthened by her love and the parental need to reassure his child, he was able to beat back the heavy blankets of darkness for a few precious moments. "I remember these simple things because no matter how much the mind forgets, the heart always remembers. "

The End. I'd appreciate any and all feedback you can send my way! This story has been a tough one to write and I spent a lot of time on it, so please take the time and let me know what you thought. [email protected].

Please send feedback to [email protected].