Don't Forget To Remember by Ygrawn
Part 3 in the series
He stared in shock at the face that was a familiar to him as his own,
and knew immediately that she was just as surprised. They stared in silence
at one another. The class rustled impatiently, the directing students
knowing Dawson was good and wanting to see some action. Mr. Farson cleared
his throat.
"Josephine. Dawson, when you're ready." Dawson tried to clear his
head, shaking it a little, before forcing himself to focus. He knew Joey
was doing the same, by the way her eyebrows tightened just a little.
"Ms. Potter," he said.
"Joey," she interrupted as if she had never met him before.
"Joey then." The name came out of his mouth as if it hadn't been
years since he said it, and he revelled in saying it again. Just to see her
was…she was waiting. "I'm Dawson."
"Pleased to meet you Dawson."
"Likewise Joey. So tell me, you a small-town girl, or a city
chick?" Ease her in-nice and familiar. Every plan he'd made was completely
out the window.
"Small town girl. I come from a small town on the East Coast."
"Nice place down there. So what do miss about it now you're here in
Chicago?" She'd been here all this time?
"Ah, in Capeside-where I come from, when you passed people in the
street, you'd smile and say hello. When you were in a shop or at a bus
stop, you'd have a conversation. Even if you didn't know them.
"Here, in Chicago, when people walk past me, their eyes slide off me
as if I'm like the eighteen thousand other people they've seen today. They
don't even see my face-and if they do, it's gone within two seconds."
"So, a big jump from Capeside to here, huh? Takes a bit of getting
used to."
"Well-" she hesitated a little. "About three years ago I left
Capeside and moved to Seattle, but we were actually just outside of Seattle,
on farmland with no one else around. So, yeah, it still is a bit of a
jump."
"We?" asked Dawson carefully.
Joey stared imperceptibly at him. "We. My nephew and I."
"Your nephew?"
Joey looked at the ground, letting a small silence fall. The rest of
the class was spellbound. "My sister and her husband," Joey simplified the
term, "died in a car accident when I was fifteen and their son, Alex was
about nine months old. Hit and run-a drunk driver. The driver was just
passing through."
"What about your parents?" He studied Joey for a second. He knew
she was pushing the sympathy side a lot. But this was also pretty painful
for her.
"My mom died of cancer when I was in the sixth grade." Joey spoke
in a tear-filled, husky voice. Half of the class were crying themselves.
"My Dad died shortly after my sister. He was killed in a prison break gone
wrong. He wasn't even trying to escape. He was shot by one of the guards."
"So you take care of Alex?" he asked softly.
"Yeah. We live in this tiny apartment, and he calls me Mom. He
doesn't know I'm his Aunty Joey. I'll tell him one day when I know he'll
understand, but right now, I want him to live in the fantasy of a mother. I
wish he could have a father.
"I love him more then my next breath."
"That's pretty powerful love." Dawson was so sympathetic, so
caring, and so compassionate in just the way he spoke.
"It's very easy to love him that much. He's my flesh and blood-I
may as well have given birth to him. I think of him as my son."
"What's your first memory?" said Dawson, changing tacks, trying to
mix her up a little.
Joey didn't miss a beat, and Dawson could feel himself smiling. She
hadn't changed one iota. "Waking up with my best friend when we were
three."
"What was her name? Your best friend."
"Him. He was a…a he."
"That's a little unusual. I guess it must have been strange."
"When we were kids it was fine, but when we got older it was very
difficult-very hard to hold onto the friendship without letting attraction
get in the way."
"So you were attracted to your best friend?" He had the class on a
knife-edge, and this wasn't even an important question. Peter Farson
realized what Jack had been talking about.
"Very attracted to him." Her eyes ground into his and she smiled
very faintly, sending electricity through his body.
Dawson opened his mouth to try to speak but his teacher addressed the
class.
"That's it for today class. Next lesson you start discussing your
films. Meet here, hook up with your partner and then you can go wherever
you want for the rest of the day. See you then."
Dawson looked back at the desk, to see Joey gone.
She forced herself not to cry all the way home. The snow bit at her,
and extremities lost feeling as she concentrated on not crying. When she
made it back to the apartment, she was too cold to cry. And she had to go
out again in half an hour to pick Alex up.
She threw her coat across the room and tried to do the same with her
scarf but it floated in the air and effectively went nowhere. Frustrated
she tried to find something else to throw, but a photo of Alex was the
closest thing and the sight of her nephew calmed her down a little.
He'd been here, in Chicago for months. Months and months,
experiencing the same weather as her, watching the same television, walking
down the same streets. For some inexplicable reason they'd both ended up
here. Perhaps it was Fate.
"No," Joey growled angrily. "Screw Dawson Leery. Asking me about
my shitty life. The nerve of that naïve, stupid, inexperienced, annoying,
pain-in the-arse, abandoning, bailing…" she ran out of words and let our her
breath. "Friend," she said softly. "Best friend." Sighing she leant
against the door. "The love of my life." God, she sounded corny.
THREE YEARS EARLIER
She'd been at Dawson's when Deputy Doug and Pacey had shown up. She
and Dawson had been in the kitchen, searching for something to eat. Gail
and Mitch were in the living room, both reading the newspaper.
They'd found some corn chips and were making their passage back
through the living room when there was a sharp rap on the front door.
Rather then let his parents get up, Dawson walked the few extra steps and
opened it up. It was Deputy Doug. Behind him, Pacey was walking up the
steps.
"Dawson. Can I come in?" Deputy Doug sounded serious.
Shrugging, Dawson stood back to let the man pass. Joey was now by
his side, and Gail and Mitch were walking over to the door. Deputy Doug
stopped just over the threshold. Somehow, all of them knew something was
wrong.
Pacey arrived, and he was holding Alex.
"Pacey, what are you doing with my nephew?" Joey was smiling as she
said it, staring at Pacey with a perplexed expression. Pacey didn't
answer-he could barely look Joey in the eyes. In his arms, Alex whimpered
just a little.
"Pacey?" Suddenly Joey's eyes squinted a little. "Is that blood on
his shirt?" Her voice was suddenly wavering a little, and Dawson could see
the small spattering of red over Alex's shoulder. "Pacey?" Her voice was
fast loosing control.
Doug cleared his throat, and tried to say something but he couldn't,
the words seeming to catch in his mouth. Joey was horrified, swinging her
eyes back to Pacey for some sort of explanation.
Joey's body was lined up against Dawson's and every muscle in her
body was tightened. Behind him, his parents weren't breathing so well. The
look on Pacey's face was awful. Torn and broken, sympathetic and dying with
anguish.
"It's your sister," Pacey said softly, barely audible, but every
word hammered through Dawson's mind.
There they'd been standing; Gail behind her, Mitch behind his son,
Dawson to her right, holding the corn chips. She had the glasses of water.
Deputy Doug was looking at nothing and Pacey was looking into her eyes,
holding the whimpering Alex as tightly as he could.
"It's your sister," he'd said in a husky voice. "Her and Bodie…"
his words were broken, quiet, but furiously loud in her mind, a cavern of
empty space. She stared at him. "They were hit by a truck, Joey. They
died on impact," he'd said.
She remembered the glasses hitting the floor, though she couldn't
recall having dropped them. The water bounced out and onto the floor in
large splashes, in slow motion. She'd looked down at them horrified at
dropping water on Gail's carpet. She was trying to form an apology, but her
mouth wasn't working.
Alex's cries barely reached her ears. Someone else was crying-it was
Gail she realized. Mitch's hand was on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing in
circled motions. Deputy Doug was trying to explain, but she wasn't
listening. Pacey cut his brother off with a hand on his wrist. Deputy
Doug's querulous voice stopped assaulting her mind.
Alex's cries broke through her frozen thoughts again, but it didn't
register. Died on impact, kept running through her mind. Died,
died, died. DEAD, something seemed to scream at her, jarring her back
into thought, her body jerking a little. She was shaking off Mitch's hands,
barely seeing Alex.
She turned desperately, trying to find him in her hazy vision. And
there he was his eyes glistening with tears, his hands helplessly close to
her, but not wanting to touch her until she signalled to him. He knew her
so well. A loud sob, barely a human sound, shattered through her unmoving
vocal cords, low and harsh. Her hands weren't moving; her legs were numb.
With the greatest effort she could exert, she made it to Dawson's
arms. They closed around her, firm, comforting, strong. Her tears fell
silently on his shirt.
PRESENT TIME
As Dawson walked down the hall, the phone on his level was ringing..
No one else was round. Without realizing, he picked it up.
"Yes?"
"Dawson man, it's Pacey."
"Pacey," he said deadly, trying to connect the thought. It made it
through and everything he associated with Pacey flew through his mind.
"Pacey," he said his voice more in control.
"You okay, Dawson?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, realizing his voice was a little
hysterical. "Just fine. Why wouldn't I be? Just bumped into Joey-she's my
partner-taller, thinner. Hair's really long. Well not much longer then
before. Still got the same green eyes. Face was pinched."
"Joey? Our Joey?"
"My Joey," said Dawson quickly. "My Joey."
"Okay, your Joey. How do you think she's doing?"
"How's she doing? I'm the one on the phone, going hysterical,
wondering if I'm quietly going insane and you want to know how she is?"
Pacey let his breath out loudly. "Dawson," he said sharply. "Think
for two seconds. What was the last thing she saw of you? What's her life
been like since? Think for two seconds you stupid, selfish man."
Pacey's harsh words cut him right back down, and every ounce of
hysteria disappeared. "Oh God, I can't believe I was so stupid."
"I can. Listen to me. I have her number. Ring, find out the
address-go and see her in person. You have to go, okay. Go."
Pacey reeled off the number and then rang off. Dawson stared at the
numbers for a little moment. Then he picked up the phone.
Alex was still finger painting when she arrived, so they left twenty
minutes later then they usually did. The painting was of her-all dots and
lines and swirls, and like a true mother, Joey said it looked just perfect,
and she wasn't really that beautiful. He'd giggled, and kissed her.
She'd carried him home, wanting to spend as little time outside then
she really needed to. He'd chattered as they'd walked through the snow.
Nonsense talk, gibberish that meant nothing to her. He was humming as they
came up the steps. Just before they reached the landing Mrs. Peters from
down the hall came hurtling down. She stopped on the step below Joey.
"Josephine dear," she said, "we were all wondering what you were
planning on doing these Christmas holidays. You and Alex spent Thanksgiving
alone and everything and we don't want that for Christmas do we?"
Joey stared blankly at her neighbour. "Ah, we're," she hadn't made
any plans, "probably going back to Capeside, but I'm not too sure."
"Well, if you don't, you and little Alex are completely welcome to
come and spend Christmas with my family.
"Well thank you Mrs. Peters. I'll keep that offer in mind. You
have a good time at the theatre tonight." It was Wednesday and Mrs. Peters
always went to the theatre with her sister. Joey continued up the stairs.
"Are we going to Capeside?" asked Alex, as his little arms tightened
around her neck a little.
"Loosen your grip a little honey. Just a little, thank you Alex.
We might. I don't know. We might go back to Seattle and visit James. Who
knows?"
"I'd like Capeside better!"
"You don't remember it Alex."
"No, but you say it is good."
"It's beautiful in Capeside. Our house is right on the creek-it's a
big house. The bathroom is the same size as the bedroom. And the town is
nice and small, with lots of interesting things to see. And the gardens are
really pretty. And it's right by the sea."
"I'd like to go there, Mommy."
"We'll see Alex. It would cost a lot of money to get back there.
Train tickets to get there and get back and other things too. But we might
go."
"Who's that Mommy?"
"Where Alex?"
Alex was pointing at the door to their apartment. Joey followed his
finger. He was pointing at Dawson.
She stared at Dawson, her anger flaring again, until Alex repeated
question reached her ears. "Who's that? Mommy?"
Joey swallowed, feeling that simple bodily function was impossibly
hard. "That's Dawson, Alex. Remember I was telling you about him the other
day. He was there when you were born."
"Why is he here?"
"I don't know."
Dawson stood up, a little unsure of himself, his hands behind his
back. I wish I didn't know him so well, thought Joey. She confidently
strode forward, ignoring her weak knees and spinning head. Somehow, she got
the door open. She had to push with her shoulder again, trying not to
jostle Alex.
Joey left the door open as she walked into the freezing apartment.
"Alex, baby, why don't you go into our room and see how Teddy's doing.
Don't forget to give him and a bath and his medication."
Alex gave his aunt a quick kiss before running off. Soon, Alex wouldn't
kiss her at all-he'd be too big for that and Joey enjoyed every spontaneous
show of affection he made.
But Dawson was behind her. She knew. If he hadn't closed the door
she would have known. Slowly she turned, trying to form thoughts in her
mind, trying to work out what she wanted to say, but everything she thought
of fell flat against her scrutiny.
Painful silence stretched, minutes passing, while Joey couldn't look
at Dawson, although his eyes were on her. The only thing that could be
heard was Alex's voice that sounded like a bird twittering behind the door.
Finally Dawson spoke. "You're looking thin Joey."
"It happens," she answered guardedly. He had to speak now and Joey
continued not to look at him, looking at the ground, her nails, the window,
the kitchen. Anything but what was in front of her.
"Yeah. Lots of stuff happens. But, uh, how have you been?"
"How have I been? That's an original question. I mean, aren't you
going to ask me something a little more meaningful. Oh, I forgot, you
already did all that, in front of thirty eight strangers and two teachers.."
"Joey-" said Dawson slightly exasperated. "Could we not?"
"Okay." She acquiesced too easily and Dawson tried to steel
himself. She ran her hands down her jeans. "So you left Capeside, huh?
How are your parents?"
"They're good. Very happy to have me out of town. Their separate
love lives go on unabated. Of course, they have their sex slip-ups all the
time. They're together, but don't live with one another."
"I'll bet. I'll also bet that Jen misses you," said Joey, her voice
suddenly sharp again. She couldn't help herself-Dawson always knew how to
push her buttons and now he was doing it without speaking.
Dawson raised his eyebrows at her. "Could we please not get into
this?"
"Come on Dawson. Why not? You got know all of my sordid details,
and I'm quite certain yours are much better. They always were Dawson. Or
at least you always made them bigger."
"Please Joey," he said, almost begging. "I didn't come here to
argue with you. I didn't."
"Then why did you come here?"
Alex's voice rose. He was telling Teddy off, and she could hear him
powerfully in her mind, a reminder of her life.
"I don't know Joey."
"Then leave. Let me get on with my life. We'll do this film and
that's it. Go, Dawson. Go on, back to your dorm room and your parents and
your money and your girlfriend. Go back to your television and your
telephone, and when you may have figured out a reason for coming here and
throwing your life in my face, come back."
Joey turned away and forced herself not to listen as he left.
Quietly she sat on the floor and burst into tears. She cried for Bessie and
Bodie and her father. She cried for everything she had lost. She just let
herself cry.
Alex came out.
"Mommy? What's wrong?" He had never seen Joey cry.
"Nothing, Alex. Nothing's wrong. Just, um…" Joey tried to clear
her eyes. "Just come give Mommy a hug. She needs it."
She didn't think she could have held him tighter.
Pacey very nearly went and banged his head against a brick wall. He
barely contained his desire to fly to Chicago and beat the living crap out
of Dawson. The fact that his friend could be so unbelievably gifted and
intelligent, yet so oblivious, ridiculous and blind was a fact that
continually astounded him.
No matter how times Pacey told him, no matter how many different ways
he tried, Dawson never quite got the message. Dawson may have been the only
person in the world who understood Joey, but there were some signals he
completely missed. Like the fact that the girl was in love with him, and
still hurt and bitter about the fact that the last time she saw Dawson, he
was playing tonsil hockey with Jen.
Even if Pacey send Dawson a video about it, outlining every item of
Joey's obvious behaviour, Dawson wouldn't have got it. He wasn't going to
until he lost Joey again, and knew that in this life, on this world, there
was only one woman for him, and she went by the preferred name of Joey.
