*Disclaimer - I do not own any of the members of 'N Sync (nor would I ever really want to), they belong to their respective owners (hopefully themselves). I do, however, own all fictional characters and the hellish things I put them through. Plagiarism is against the law. Don't do it. I will get angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry. Thank you.

The hospital was buzzing with activity; doctors, nurses and orderlies running around trying to save the lives of the mortally wounded, yelling orders to one another as they worked. Michaela curled into herself, trying to remain inconspicuous as she could wrapped in a blanket in a small trauma room. Police officers had been in and out, asking her questions about David and what had happened in the book shop. She answered each question with a small measure of dread and fear, wondering why they wanted to know all of this information, though Detective Romero kept reassuring her it was only for reports the officers had to make, not to prosecute her in any way. She shivered slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, resting back against the wall.

I murdered someone. In cold blood. I took someone's life as if I were God. I made the decision that my life was more important than his. Painful tears filled her eyes, and she sighed, trying to blink them back, a hand lifting to cover her face. Her stomach churned with roiling emotions and she stumbled to her feet, rushing to the bathroom where she relieved the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She sat heavily on the floor, resting her forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet, closing her eyes tightly. Her stomach still protested, trying to heave the rest of it's contents to give her some measure of comfort, even if it was only physical. Her heart lurched into her throat, a throttled scream escaping her when a gentle hand encompassed her shoulder. Fearful eyes darted over her shoulder, a strangled sob escaping her parched lips. Without thinking, she crawled onto Chris's lap, resting her head on his shoulder. His arms immediately wrapped around her, holding her tightly.

"Its all right, now. You're safe." he murmured, rocking her gently in his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I murdered someone, Moo." she moaned, giving a convulsive shiver of distaste.

"You did what you had to, Chichi. You killed him before he could kill you. It was self defense." he reassured her softly, heart contracting painfully. He wished he could have pulled the trigger for her, killed David in her stead so she wouldn't have to deal with the anguish of taking someone's life. She shook her head, tears finally slipping down her cheeks.

"Chris?" JC's worried voice broke through the protective haze she had formed around herself. She made a panicked sound, shaking her head as she turned fearful eyes to the newcomer standing in the doorway.

"Go away, Josh." she mumbled, burying her face in Chris's shirt front. JC gave his older friend a quizzical look. Chris just shook his head, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. JC sighed, closing his eyes, shoulders sagging slightly. He gazed at Michaela for a moment before leaving the two friends alone.

"Talk to me, Chichi. Why'd you tell Jace to leave?" Chris inquired, gently brushing the hair from her face, almost cradling her as if she were a small child.

"I… I…," she shook her head, unable to put her feelings into words. She didn't want to see the revulsion in his eyes, didn't want to see the bitter truth that would no doubt come with the words he spoke. She didn't want him to have to face the media and telling them the girl he dated was now a murderess.

"Miss Costeo, you're free to go." Detective Romero called from the examining room. She glanced around the room, pulling in a deep breath as she struggled to her feet. Without a word, she walked out of the bathroom and tossed the blanket onto a nearby chair. She glanced up, startled when she saw JC standing in front of the window, gazing out at the city.

"Are you all right?" he inquired without turning around.

"Um, yeah." she murmured, nodding distractedly. JC nodded, sighing softly, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and turned to reached for her jacket.

"You're pushing me away." he stated, his tone matter-of-fact, still facing the window so he wouldn't have to look at her.

"JC, -- I'm not trying to." she shook her head, gesturing helplessly with a hand. He stiffened slightly at the nickname he'd carried for years.

"You are." he mused, his heart contracting in his chest painfully enough for him to draw a deep breath, hoping the air would somehow ease the tightness in his chest. He had thought once the threat of David was out of the picture permanently, things would begin to get easier between the two of them. He couldn't have been more wrong. Things were just becoming more difficult and she had begun to shut herself down, extracting herself from everyone's lives.

"You've never called me that." he continued, raking a hand through his rumpled hair.

"Never called you what?" she inquired, thoroughly confused.

"JC." he tried to keep the bitterness he felt from his voice, almost successfully. She winced when he pivoted and strode from the room without another word. Her mouth opened to call after him, but no words could escape her constricted throat.

"You need to give each other some time." Chris stated thoughtfully from the doorway to the bathroom. "He cares about you."

"He may care about me, but he's also angry with me." Michaela shook her head, voice thick with stress and emotion.

"He's not angry with you, Chichi. Maybe the situation, but not you." he shook his head, taking her hand in his own, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Its more than just that, Chris. It always is." She forced a smile and wandered from the hospital room.

JC wandered into the dance club, hoping to drown his worries in a few drinks, some flirting and a lot of dancing. He knew he must look like death warmed over, but at the moment he didn't rightly care. A woman was bound to find him attractive enough to talk to him and maybe even dance with him. All he wanted to do was forget about Michaela for a while and just have some fun with no emotional strings attached. He shook his head, a bitterly rueful smile gracing his face. He wandered over to the bar, the bass of the song reverberating through his chest, and ordered a beer. He sat on a stool, holding the glass bottle, and gazed around the dance floor, looking for a prospective dancing partner.

"You look like you could use some company." a female called to him over the thumping dance music. He glanced over to his left and smiled at a beautiful woman with long auburn hair and hazel green eyes.

"You read my mind. Dance?" he lifted an eyebrow, gesturing to the dance floor with the bottle of beer.

"Love to." she nodded, giving him a far more sensual smile. He set the bottle down on the counter then held a hand out to her. Minutes later they were in the middle of the dance floor, dancing to the nearly frantic beat of the song now blaring through the speakers. He desperately tried to block Michaela from his mind, telling himself it was a dead end relationship. Telling himself anything to ease the hurt he felt to his bones. Dancing with this woman didn't feel right, but it felt a lot better than the constant advance retreat routine he had going on with Michaela. Pretending desire was a lot easier than actually feeling it. The red head he was dancing with wrapped an arm around his waist, hand resting on his posterior, pulling him closer. He gritted his teeth, forcing a smile.

"What's your name?" he inquired loudly, bending his head low enough so his voice would carry directly into her ear.

"Kara." she called back, resting her free arm across his shoulders. "And you're JC."

He nodded, wincing slightly at her knowledge of who he was and what he did for a living. No talking. It's better if there's no talking. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, refusing to let this, or anything else, deter his good time. The song suddenly changed to a slower ballad. He mentally prepared himself for the instant onslaught of female hormones heading his way. He firmly put his morbid thoughts onto the back burner in his mind and concentrated on the beautiful woman now pressed up against him.

Bright morning sunlight brutally woke Michaela from her fitful night of sleep, a lingering warmth on the mattress next to her from Gabriel's furry body, which kept her warm all night and helped keep her from becoming an emotional wreck. She sighed, burrowing deeper under the covers as she gathered up the courage to face the day and all that would happen in the hours to come. She struggled into a sitting position, raking a hand through her hair as she glanced around, suddenly nervous at the quietness of the apartment. Usually Chris was up and about by this time, making enough noise for twelve people and generally wrecking havoc on everyone and everything in the apartment. She stumbled to her feet, pulling on a pair of sweatpants as she wandered to the door. Chris sat at the kitchen table in front of his laptop computer, typing madly.

"Morning." he smiled cautiously, pushing his glasses to the top of his head. Michaela forced a smile, shivering slightly as a cold chill raced up and down her spine. She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the carton of orange juice. She took a couple of gulps without bothering to reach for a glass when she noticed there was only a few more gulps left. She dropped down into an empty chair and sighed tiredly.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, closing the screen of the laptop.

"Moo, I'm not really up for talking right now." she shook her head, voice still thick from sleep.

"I'm not really caring at the moment. You don't think I'm going to let you become silent and moody, do you?" Chris demanded gently, folding his arms across his chest as Gabriel sauntered into the room, sniffing around his dinner bowl. She glowered at him over the lip of the orange juice container she held to her lips.

"So, as I was saying, how are you feeling?"

"Like hell." she muttered, tossing the empty juice container into the nearby garbage barrel.

"And how did you sleep?" he continued barraging her with questions.

"Didn't. Not really, anyway." she mumbled quietly, trying to jump-start her brain as she reached for a box of cereal sitting on the counter.

"And why not?" he lifted an eyebrow, refusing to let the subject drop.

"Because I murdered someone, Chris. In cold blood." she exclaimed angrily, surging to her feet in one swift movement. Without another word, she grabbed her car keys and headed for the front door.

"You can't keep running, Michaela." Chris called after her loudly.

"Watch me, Christopher." she called back, her voice icy. She closed the door behind her, sighing with dread. She didn't want to think about what happened the day before, wasn't ready to face what she had done without thinking in a moment of desperation. She strolled down the hallway, praying she wouldn't run into anyone on her way to her car. She just wasn't up for talking, emotionally or mentally. She climbed into her car and pealed out of the apartment complex's parking lot with no destination in mind other than away from everything.

She blinked back tears, breaking to a stop and shutting the engine of her car down. After resting for a moment to collect her thoughts, she finally glanced around to see where she had ended up. Her mouth dropped open upon seeing the front door of JC's apartment from her parking spot, groaning softly as she closed her eyes. She shook her head, taking a deep breath as she climbed out of the car. Without giving herself time to chicken out, she stepped up to the door and knocked loudly. Minutes later, the door was pulled open and her heart stalled in her chest. A beautiful red head smiled at her, wearing nothing but a long t-shirt, her hair rumbled and mussed from sleeping.

"Who is it, sweetie?" JC's familiar voice called from the depths of the apartment.

"Sweetie?" Michaela mumbled in disbelief, shaking her head slowly.

"I don't know. Some woman." 'sweetie' called back over her shoulder before turning her attention back to Mike. "Can I help you?"

"Actually, no. Just tell him Mike says to have a nice life." Michaela shook her head, hoping the heartbreak she felt didn't register on her face. Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode away from the door and back over to her car. 'Sweetie' shrugged her shoulders, watching as Michaela climbed into her car and drove off before closing the door.

"Foolish. You knew you were damaged goods. You knew no one would ever want you. Why did you have your hopes up for this one? You should know by now all men are the same." she muttered savagely to herself, speeding through the streets of Orlando, heading back toward the apartment. A small plan formulated in her mind, slowly budding and taking root. Once she made it back to the apartment, she set about the task of quitting her job and taking herself out of classes, telling each person she spoke with there was a family emergency and she needed to go home for a while. She hung up the phone, heaving a small sigh of relief before she got to work separating her various belongings. She glanced up, startled when she heard the front door open then shut. Chris had gone out for the day to visit some friends before he had to head back to the tour that night so she knew it wasn't him who had entered.

"Michaela." JC's voice startled her even further, causing her movements to become jerky and angry. JC sighed, stepping further into her bedroom, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jeans.

"I wanted to explain about this morning." he began haltingly, a look of pain crossing his face.

"You don't need to explain anything to me. I knew you weren't going to wait around forever." she shrugged her shoulders, standing in front of her closet, flipping through the hanging clothes quickly.

"Michaela," JC sighed, raking a hand through his hair, shaking his head slowly.

"No - JC, I really don't want to hear it." she held up a hand, stopping the flow of his words.

"Will you please listen to me?" he demanded softly, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "And when did you start calling me JC?"

"I'm kind of busy." she forced out the words, trying her best to make her voice sound distracted and harried. A startled gasp escaped her lips when an implacable hand wrapped around her forearm, turning her around to face gray-blue eyes.

"I was upset and wasn't thinking." he mumbled, eyes traveling her face in search of any emotion, gritting his teeth when he physically saw the wall in her eyes being erected.

"Like I said, you don't need to explain anything to me." she shook her head, voice dropping to a whisper.

"I know I don't need to, I want to." he sighed, closing his eyes as he searched for the words to explain everything to her. "You pushed me away last night, when all I really wanted to do was wrap my arms around you and make sure you were all right. But you pushed me away, wouldn't let me in the same room as you without claming up. I wanted to blow off some steam, so I went to a dance club and wound up having a little too much to drink. She didn't mean anything to me, Michaela. You have to know that."

"So you did sleep with her. I wondered." she mused, voice slightly choked as she tried pulling her arm from his grasp.

"Forgive me." he pleaded softly, his hand lifting to caress her cheekbone gently.

"You don't need forgiveness from me, JC. What you did wasn't wrong. We weren't a couple, and you really don't need to explain this to me." Michaela shook her head, averting her eyes from him and ultimately avoiding everything he was trying to do.

"Look at me, Michaela." he murmured, cupping her cheek with his palm. She lifted her eyes to his, her heart clenching painfully in her chest. "She meant nothing to me. You do."

"I'm sorry, JC. I can't do this. If your heart was really in it, if my heart was really in it, maybe we could make a go of a relationship. But with the way things are now, after everything that has happened, it doesn't look like a possibility." she sighed, holding a hand to her forehead.

"Why do you think there's no possibility for us?" he demanded, lifting an eyebrow.

"I killed someone." she stated tonelessly, reverting her eyes to gaze stonily over his shoulder.

"And you think that matters to me? Michaela, it was self defense. Everyone knows that." he exclaimed softly, falling a step backward from her.

"The press, it'll rip you apart. It'll rip me apart, putting everything we do into speculation. Everyone will question my motives and the fans… I'd hate to think of what the fans would think once my name is connected to yours. It wouldn't be good for your career, or anything else for that matter." she turned her back to him, forcing herself back to separating her clothes.

"For crying out loud, Michaela." JC muttered savagely, folding his arms across his chest.

"Just, please leave, JC. I don't want to do this with you right now. Besides, you have things to do before you get back to the tour. And so do I." she sighed, refusing to face him again, though her heart seemed to shred with each word she spoke. She closed her eyes, hearing JC sighed heavily before reluctantly leaving the room. She held a hand to her face, holding her breath until she heard the front door open and close before she stumbled back against the closet door, a strangled sob finally reaching past the lump in her throat. Scalding tears slipped down her cheeks as she slowly sank to the floor. Gabriel whined softly, nuzzling her arm gently, licking away the tears escaping down her hands. Her hands dropped only to wrap around Gabriel's neck, burying her face in his soft fur. She hadn't wanted to tell him to leave, hadn't wanted to tell him things between them wouldn't work out.

"Are you sure you won't come with us?" Chris inquired for the tenth time is as many minutes, shrugging into a light weight jacket.

"I'm sure, Moo. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Michaela reassured him, forcing a small smile.

"I'm not sure if I like the thought of leaving you here alone, especially with what happened yesterday." Chris shook his head, glancing over his shoulder when he heard a horn honk from the parking lot.

"I won't be alone. Gabriel's here." she pointed out logically, ushering him out the door. The sooner he left, the sooner she could get a move on.

"All right. I'll give you a call tonight, see how you're doing." he sighed, giving her one last hard look. She forced a smile and waved to him as he disappeared down the hallway, heaving a sigh of relief. A moment later, she hastily closed the door then turned to the apartment, forcing an enthusiasm she would never feel. In ten minutes, her suitcases were in the trunk of her car while various other things kept piling up in the back seat. She took one last look around the apartment, making sure to leave behind everything any one of the guys gave to her. She couldn't tolerate the emotional ties and couldn't handle constant reminders around her. She reached for Gabriel's leash and stepped from the apartment, locking the door behind her. On the way through the apartment complex to her car, she dropped an addressed envelope into the mail slot with the apartment keys inside and the apartment address, severing the last tie without giving herself time to think about what she was doing. Wiping away tears of regret, she hurried out to the car and started the engine before pealing out of the parking lot and heading toward the highway. There weren't a whole lot of places she could go, but she knew she had to stop in Boston for a day or two to reconnect with her family, if they would see her. Gabriel whined softly, resting his jaw on his paws as he gazed longingly out the window toward the only place he'd known as home, somehow sensing he would never see it again. She drove the rest of the night and most of the next day before she finally stopped in a motel for some rest. After paying for the room and getting the key, she sneaked Gabriel inside the ground floor room and passed out on the bed almost immediately.

"I would have protected you from the scrutiny of everyone, but you didn't trust me." he turned his pained eyes to her one last time before he disappeared behind the rocks, leaving her in solitude once again. Suddenly, the beach didn't seem like a very welcome place, the breeze turning chilly and the waves beginning to rise higher and higher, almost as if there were a storm brewing somewhere off the coast. She gave a violent shiver, feeling the finger of self imposed isolation intensify, making the holes in her soul rip open further, the cold settling into her very bones. The seagulls disappeared into the distance, seeking shelter from the impending doom. She turned in a slow circle, eyes trying to catch a glimpse of what was to come, but only a dark void loomed ahead, throwing everything into darkness.

Michaela awoke with a throttled gasp, her heart thundering in her throat painfully, a light sheen of sweat covering her face and neck. Unexplainable tears burned her eyes as she slowly sat up, covering her face with a clammy hand.

JC sighed, punching his pillow in frustration. Sleep had eluded him for hours and he couldn't place a finger on the reason why sleep was so difficult that night. He turned onto his back, folding his arms behind his head, eyes glued to the ceiling. The vague thought of calling Michaela just to hear her voice fluttered through his mind before he thought better of it. He had hurt her, and he would be the last person she'd want to hear from. He sighed softly, closing his eyes. Suddenly, sleep claimed him on swift feet.

"I would have protected you from the scrutiny of everyone, but you didn't trust me." he turned his pained eyes to her one last time, committing her features to memory, somehow sensing he would never see her again. Without another word, he turned and began walking back to the hotel, his heart heavy. A cold wind blasted past him, carrying her almost animalistic cry a pain.

JC awoke, breath stalled in his throat, heart thumping a quick tattoo in his chest. He groaned softly, burying his face in his pillow as his mind lingered on the dream images his mind had created. He hugged the pillow under his head, closing his eyes tightly, unable to wash away the lingering suspicion something was wrong with Michaela. He shook his head, determined to stay strong against the initial desire to call her.

Michaela parked her car down the street from her parents' house, gazing at the building with a bittersweet wave of nostalgia. Images from her childhood fluttered through her mind's eye, giving her heart a tight squeeze. She watched as the front door opened, her father appearing in his favorite navy blue robe and bent to get the newspaper resting on the front porch. He yawned hugely, stretching before he turned and wandered back into the house. Her mother appeared in the windows a few minutes later, pulling the curtains back in the living room on her way to the kitchen. Michaela closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before commanding herself to get out of the car. As she strolled toward the house, her doubts began to rise in the back of her mind. Maybe they won't want to see me. Maybe they'll ignore me and pretend I don't exist for them. She shook her head, pausing at the front door, hand raised halfway to the front door to knock. You'll never know unless you try. She knocked loudly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. A moment later, the door swung open, her mother's 'receiving visitors' smile in place on her face. Her eyes widened slightly, the smile slipping from her face.

"Hi mom." Michaela forced a smile, unease swirling around in her stomach. Mrs. Costeo opened her mouth as if to say something, then shook her head, turning away from her daughter.

"Mom, please. Don't you think it's time to forgive and forget? You're my mother." Michaela pleaded softly, taking a step closer to the door. Mrs. Costeo's step paused, her shoulders sagging slightly.

"I made a mistake, but must I live without the love of my family for the rest of my life for this one mistake?" Michaela continued.

"My daughter is dead." Mrs. Costeo's voice held a note of fatigue as she shook her head, stepping further into the house as she reached for the front door.

"I'm not dead. I'm right here, standing in front of you, breathing and asking for your forgiveness if you'll have mine." Michaela exclaimed passionately.

"My daughter is dead." Mrs. Costeo stated again, voice shaky but firm as she swung the door closed. Michaela opened her mouth to call out to her mother again, but no words emerged. She closed her burning eyes, holding a hand to her face. She hadn't thought her mother would stay so steadfast in her opinion of her daughter and her mistakes. Her heart shattered, bleeding emotion painfully. She shook her head, slowly turning her back to the door. All she could concentrate on was putting one foot in front of the other and the emotional death part of her soul was suffering. She pulled open the driver's side door, glancing over her shoulder for one last look at the house she grew up in, her broken heart bleeding just a little more at the sight of her father standing at the kitchen window, gazing at her with a pained and pinched face. She turned resolutely from her father, hating to turn away from him when he had made the first step months earlier, but she knew he wouldn't do anything with her mother's strong convictions. She climbed into her car and rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. A sudden knock on the window beside her startled a gasp from her. She glanced up, eyes widening when she saw her father, tears shimmering in his luminous green eyes. In slow, jerky movements, she opened the car door and climbed out once again.

"Your mother's in tears." Mr. Costeo stated gruffly, raking a hand through his rumpled hair. "She wanted me to ask you if you needed any money."

Michaela shook her head silently, gazing warily at him. He opened his mouth, then shook his head, sighing heavily.

"Why don't you come inside and have some breakfast." Mr. Costeo suggested hopefully.

"I don't think I should. Mother was shocked enough to see me as it is. I don't think she'd know how to react if I was in her house again." Michaela forced a sad smile, shaking her head slowly.

"Your mother really doesn't mean all of that. All she ever wanted was your happiness. She just couldn't abide by your idea of happiness. David was an intolerable person. She thought the only way to drive you from him was to threaten your standing in our family." he tried to explain his wife's harshness to their daughter.

"Daddy, I came here to forgive and to ask forgiveness. Nothing more, nothing less. I didn't want to live the rest of my life knowing your silence. Unable to bring either of you into my life." she gestured helplessly, swiping at the tears dotting her cheeks, wincing slightly at the tremor her voice held.

"I didn't want this to happen. I never wanted to shut you out. Your mother is set in her ways, and tends to think her way is best. Give her some time. She will eventually come around and see she was partially wrong." Mr. Costeo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. Michaela smiled sadly, drinking in her father's face, committing everything to memory. Without saying another word to him, she snaked her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"I love you, daddy." she whispered tearfully, then disappeared back into her car and drove away. Michaela drove through the streets of Boston, trying to put everything into prospective, separating everything and putting them into the correct compartments in her brain.

"Strange." Chris made a face as he shook his head, hanging up the hotel phone.

"What's that?" Justin glanced up from the magazine resting in his lap.

"What? Oh. Nothing." Chris shook his head, brow furrowed in bewilderment. "I haven't been able to get ahold of her."

"You know college students. She's probably living at the library so she can study. And you can't forget working and all." Justin shrugged, eyes drifting back down to the article he'd been reading moments before.

"I called the book shop. She quit a couple of days ago." Chris mumbled, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

"She quit her job?" Justin inquired, confused as Joe and Lance wandered into the room dressed for the interview they were heading to in less than a half an hour. Chris nodded, folding his hands with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Who quit her job?" Lance lifted an eyebrow, glancing down at his watch.

"Michaela." Chris muttered, surging to his feet to pace the room slowly. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what in the world was going on with his young friend, and what could have possibly gone wrong in order to make her quit a job she loved.

"Maybe she just couldn't take working there anymore. She was held there at gun point, her life was threatened. Anyone would freak out over something like that." Joe pointed out, shrugging his shoulders as he took a seat on an empty chair.

"What are we talking about?" JC questioned as he wandered from the bathroom, hair still damp from the shower.

"Mike." Justin answered, rolling his eyes.

"What about her?" JC's voice remained cautiously emotionless.

"She quit her job, and Chris can't get ahold of her." Justin gave his older friend a pointed look.

"Oh." JC flopped down on one of the bed, making a face of worried confusion. Chris rubbed a hand over his face, reaching for the phone again. He dialed the number to his apartment by memory. The phone rang four times before the answering machine automatically intercepted the call, informing him no one was home and to please leave his name, number and a brief message and someone would get back to him as soon as possible. He shook his head, groaning softly as he hung up the phone. He began to pace the room again, his hands folded behind his back as he thought.

"Maybe she's just taking a mini-vacation. She's aptly proven she can take care of herself, so I wouldn't worry about her, old man." Justin pointed out logically as he tossed the magazine he held onto the low laying coffee table.

"You don't know Michaela. She wouldn't have left without telling me anything. She knows I worry." Chris gestured helplessly, glancing down at his watch to estimate how much time he had before he could call the apartment again.

"We have to get going, guys." Lance prodded gently. Chris sighed, nodding as the small group headed toward the door.

Michaela sat in the small diner with a cup of hot chocolate and an uneaten cheeseburger and fries. She had been on the road nonstop for almost four days now, and all she had been able to do was think. Think about the past, the present and the future. So many things had gone wrong, so many other things could go wrong; and she was having trouble deciding which path she should take. If she took the path to the right, she would surround herself with people who cared about her, would have the older brother she had missed over the years and four friends who would always care about her and how she was doing. She would also have the fear of giving her heart away to someone she wasn't sure she could trust. If she took the path to the left, she would surround herself with self imposed isolation and loneliness with no one but strangers in her life, which by all means could be something she needed. She propped her chin on a fist, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Can I get you anything else, love?" a male voice with a slight Irish accent inquired, startling her.

"No thanks." Michaela shook her head, wrapping her fingers around the warm mug in front of her.

"Would ya like some company, then?" he pressed, giving her an inviting smile.

"Sure." she shrugged, nodding toward the empty seat opposite her. He gave a sighing groan of relief as he sat, obviously glad to be off his feet.

"Ya look like you've lost your best friend. Care to talk about it?" he lifted an eyebrow, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Not really." Michaela shook her head, forcing a smile.

"Sometimes its easier when you tell a complete stranger who can offer advice. Something about being on the outside looking in. Cigarette?" he offered one to her. She hesitated, then shrugged, reaching for one. He handed her the lighter as she thought for a moment, reaching for the ashtray.

"I don't honestly know where to start." she mumbled, tapping the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray to dislodge the loose ashes.

"How about the beginning?" he chuckled ruefully, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

"The beginning? That was so long ago, I barely remember it. My brother's death was definitely the beginning. He died in the military and I was devastated. Soon after that, my brother's best friend Chris came to visit me, bringing along four of his friends. That's also about the time I met David as well." Michaela began, sighing softly as she turned her eyes to the window, gazing out at the waning sunlight.

"Six guys, a girl and a dead brother. Sounds like a really bad sitcom." he mumbled with a shake of his head.

"Chris, his friends and I became friends rather quickly, and when the five of them left, we kept in contact through phone calls and e-mail and David and I started dating. Soon after, the honeymoon ended and he started beating up on me on a regular basis. I'd had enough when he shattered my hand and went to Chris for help, who promptly took me in and wouldn't let me leave his sight. I didn't see hide nor hair of David for a while, then he started harassing me. One of Chris's friends I mentioned earlier, well, he and I became closer than just friends. And, almost a week ago, David showed up at my work place and threatened to kill me while waving a gun. One thing led to another and I killed him. I didn't want Josh to get caught in the middle of everything - the bad press - and told him as much. Then I left without a trace, and that was a few days ago. I went home, but mom and dad are still sticking to their idea of disowning me. So now I don't know whether or not to head back to Chris, or to keep going on my own." Michaela finished and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

"Geez. Sounds like you've had a rough go of it." he shook his head. "Let me ask you a question. What do you think of when I say the word 'home'?"

"I don't know." she shrugged.

"Don't think about it. Like word association. I say home, what do you say." he gave her a glimmer of a smile.

"Love." she rolled her eyes.

"All right. Good. Now, I say love. What do you say?"

"Family."

"I say family. What do you say?"

"Warm."

"I say warm. What do you say?"

"Safe."

"I say safe. What do you say?"

"Chris."

"Well then, looks like you have your answer right there." he grinned, settling back against his seat, arms folded across his chest with a smile of satisfaction. Michaela laughed, shaking her head slowly, though she could understand his reasoning.

"But, going back into that little group, the risks could be too great." she shook her head, gesturing vaguely with a hand.

"Ah, great risks generally reward." he shrugged, climbing to his feet. "You know what you need to do." he continued before he wandered back into the kitchen. Michaela sat back, mind whirling with a million thoughts. She reached into her pocket and pulled out enough money to cover the bill. She climbed to her feet and headed out into the parking lot. Gabriel gazed at her hopefully, a doggy grin on his face as he awaited her arrival in the car.

"What do you think, Gabriel? Should I go back or should I go forward?" she inquired, scratching her faithful companion's ears affectionately. Gabriel yipped, nuzzling his nose into the palm of her hand.

"All right. That's what we'll do." she nodded, sighing softly.

Chris wiped his face with a towel, breathless from the concert, a headache beginning to form behind his eyes as he walked briskly to the room sectioned off as the group's 'quiet' room. The others had stopped to talk to some fans who were waiting for them when they finally made it off the stage. He closed himself into the small room and flopped down on one of the two couches, pinching his nose between her thumb and forefinger, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure building in his brain. Nearly a week had gone by since he first starting calling the apartment, and he still hadn't been able to get ahold of her.

"Someone stop that dog!" he heard someone yell outside the door, causing him to grimace at the nose and a small measure of curiosity. He stumbled to his feet, tossing the towel onto a chair as he made his way to the door. He pulled it open and yelped in surprise, a large husky jumping up to place his paws on his chest.

"Gabriel, get off of me." he grumbled, giving the dog a playful shove.

"Who said you could treat my dog like that?" a painfully familiar voice inquired.

"Michaela?" Chris's eyes shot up. She gave him a genuine smile as she followed him into the small room, closing the door behind them.

"Where in the world were you? You never answered the phone, either of them." Chris demanded, turning hard eyes to her.

"I needed to get away for a while, clear my mind and try my hand at forgiveness." Michaela shrugged, sitting down next to him on the couch.

"What did you do?" his voice became soft and wary.

"I went home. Tried to talk to my parents. Needless to say, it didn't work out well. My mother all but slammed the door in my face and my father wanted to know if I needed any money. Then I went to this nice little diner and talked to one of the waiters for quite some time. He asked me what I thought of when he said the word home. And, I thought of you and the rest of the guys. You all are all I need now." she explained softly, placing her hand atop his.

"I'm just glad you're back." he sighed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a hug. She smiled, hugging him back just as tightly. They both glanced up when the door opened emitting the rest of the group, various people following them inside.

"Whoa. Michaela? When did you get here?" Justin's voice took on a note of shock.

"Just before the concert, which, by the way, was wonderful. I like all the changes, the new stage setup and choreography." She gave them all a smile, taking the first step and giving each Justin, Lance and Joe a hug. She turned, the shards of her heart shifting closer together when her eyes landed on JC, who stood quietly in the doorway. She strolled over to him, thrusting her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"Can we talk?" she inquired hopefully.

"Just give me some time to grab a shower and change, all right?" he countered.

"I'll wait." Michaela agreed softly, folding her arms across her chest as Gabriel made the rounds, soaking up all the attention from each of the men. She watched as JC made his way out of the room. Chris smiled with a nod, giving her a knowing wink.

"Moving forward is always better than remaining stagnant or moving backward." Chris stated simply as he climbed to his feet. Minutes later, she was alone in the quiet room with nothing to do but wander around, gazing at everything spread throughout the room. Bikes, a drum set, a keyboard, three laptop computers, an entertainment center with a VCR and play station, and dozens of games filled the room on one side, a wall of mirrors draped along the other wall. She shook her head with an amused smile as she fingered through the fan mail tossed on the counter in front of the mirrors.

"What did you want to talk about?" JC's voice startled her, causing her to whirl around to face him.

"Everything. Nothing. I've missed the sound of your voice." she shrugged, sighing softly. "What I said the last time I saw you - I was scared. I didn't want you to have to deal with the thought of dating someone who has what it takes to murder someone."

"You didn't even give me a chance to try, Michaela. That's what hurt the most." he shook his head, raking his hand through his hair.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just needed some time to get used to the idea of letting someone get as close to me as you have." She explained weakly, turning to face the mirrors again, sorting out the pile of fan mail by who it was addressed to, her eyes darting up to his reflection every few moments.

"I don't know what you want me to say to that." he stated, eyeing her reflection, wishing she would tell him one way or the other if she wanted something from him; something more than friendship. The lack of knowledge was driving him insane, but he also didn't want to push her into anything she wasn't ready for. He didn't want to lose her in every way instead of just one way.

"You don't have to say anything, Josh. But, I guess what I'm trying to say is - do you still want the chance to try?" she inquired, unable to meet his eyes through the mirror, infuriated with herself for being somewhat of a coward and scared she'd finally reached the end of his patience and care.

"I honestly don't know." he murmured, brushing the hair over her shoulder, baring the nape of her neck. "On one hand, it's a lot of work to try and win your heart. To keep your heart and to make sure I don't frighten you in any way. On the other hand, life without you would be a difficult thing."

"Well - we could always be friends." she stated, flustered as she commanded her heart to remain steadfast. This heartbreak was expected.

"Do you think we'll ever be able to be just friends?" he questioned, his voice rueful as his fingertips danced softly along the nape of her neck, eliciting shivers to wrap around the base of her spine.

"I'm not sure. All there is to do is accept it and try." she shrugged, trying to remain calm as he stepped closer to her, the heat from his body radiating into her back, seemingly melting every bone she possessed.

"There's another problem. I'm not sure I could accept friendship from you." he mused thoughtfully, letting his hand drop to his side.

"I hadn't realized…," her voice trailed off as she sidestepped him, walking briskly to the door. She pulled it open a couple of inches before his hand was there, closing it once again.

"If you'd let me finish." he mumbled with amusement. "I don't think I can accept being just your friend. I'm not the type of person to try to woo and romance someone, then not follow through even when things begin to get difficult. Michaela, I'll always want you in my life - in any way I can have you. But, it's all up to you. What do you want from me?" he inquired softly, grasping her arms and turning her to face him.

"I want to do for you, what you do for me." she shrugged, unable to put into words how she felt.

"What is it I do for you?" he lifted an eyebrow.

"You make me feel… protected, cherished, cared for." she stumbled over the words. He smiled, cupping her cheek in his hand, thumb sweeping across her cheekbone delicately. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips captured, then romanced hers and a blanket of peace wrapped itself tightly about her carried in JC's arms.

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