Joey chewed her thumbnail anxiously as she paced the length of the hospital corridor. Her hair hung in a greasy, lacklustre curtain and her clothes were rumpled and dirty. Nearby, Gail and Mitch Leery were curled up asleep on one of the orange, plastic hospital chairs. Joey, however tired she may have been, was far too agitated to even think about sleep. As the nurse rounded the corner, she pounced on her.

“How is he?” she asked beseechingly. The nurse hesitated, as if reluctant to be the bearer of bad news.

“I’m afraid your friend has slipped into a coma. The impact of the car was incredibly severe and this is his body’s way of coping with the trauma,”

“He’s going to be okay though?” an undertone of hysteria entered her voice.

“Well . . .” again there was the hesitation “At this stage there are no guarantees . .. . I’m sorry,”

“Can I at least see him?” Joey choked out, once the tears had subsided.

“That’s not possible at the moment,”

“What do you mean ’that’s not possible at the moment’?” she mimicked bitterly, aware that her voice level was rising.

“Any visitors at this point may lead to lasting damage . . . I’m sorry,” the nurse squeezed her arm sympathetically and began walking away. Joey was about to hurl more angry abuse at her, when she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Whirling around, she was faced with her sister.

“Jo, calm down, she’s just doing her job. I know you’re stressed out, but try not to take it out on people who only want to help,” Bessie said quietly “Now do you want me to go get you something? A hot drink, tea, coffee?”

Joey shot her a scornful look.

“I don’t need a hot drink, I need Dawson to be alright, that’s what I need,”

Bessie’s face closed up.

“Fine, shut everyone out, Jo, just like you’ve been doing your whole life. You don’t need to take help from me, just take it from someone, or else you’re going to end up alone,”

I want to get away
I wanna fly away (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Oh yeah
I want to get away
I wanna fly away (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I gotta get away
I want to get away
I want to get away
I want to get away
I want to get away (yeah!)

(Fly Away - Lenny Kravitz)

Outside the hospital, it was a beautiful, new day. The sun streamed down over Boston and the sky was uncharacteristically blue. Joey’s mood, however, couldn’t have been more opposite. She’s hoped the fresh air would help clear her head, but Bessie’s parting shot still lingered. You don’t need to take help from me, just take it from someone, or else you’re going to end up alone

She jiggled her leg restlessly, she was going stir-crazy just sitting around, unable to help. She needed to do something. Bessie was right; she needed someone and in a flash she knew who.

“Welcome to the beacon hotel, how may I help you?” the girl gave Joey a big, fake smile.

“Could I have the room number for a Pacey Witter, please?”

The receptionist began punching buttons on her keyboard and Joey drummed her fingernails impatiently against the mock-wood counter. Finally the girl looked up from the computer.

“Mr Witter is staying in room twenty seven, on the third floor. If you’d like me to inform him that . . .” Joey was half-way to the lifts before she’d even finished speaking.

Minutes later she tapped lightly on Pacey’s hotel room door. No answer. She knocked again, this time harder. Still no reply. After one more attempt, Joey was about to turn away, when the door swung open. Framed by the doorway, Pacey looked even more attractive than she remembered.

“Oh, it’s you,” the coldness in his voice was unmistakable.

“Can I come in?” she asked tentatively. For one horrible moment she was afraid he wasn’t even going to invite her inside, but he grunted and stepped aside, leaving room for her to enter. Once inside Joey took in the bare, dingy room. Lying atop the unmade bed there was an open suitcase. Belongings were haphazardly piled inside it and around the room drawers and cabinets hung open.

“What are you doing?” her voice conveyed dismay

“What does it look like?” he replied sullenly “I’m packing,”

Joey stared at him in disbelief

“Your best friend is lying in hospital, at death’s door and you’re - you’re leaving?” she spluttered. Pacey didn’t respond, he just continued folding a shirt, his face stony. Joey snatched the shirt away from him in frustration, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. “I think I deserve an explanation,”

Pacey let out a short, sharp laugh.

“Is it really that hard to figure out, Jo?” when Joey’s face remained uncomprehending he continued “I’m leaving because of you,”

“But, Dawson--”

“Dawson doesn’t need me, some friend he used to know. He needs you, the love of his life,” Pacey barely bothered to mask the bitterness in his voice “and let’s face it, your life will be a hell of a lot easier with me gone. So there’s your explanation, Jo,”

Joey didn’t know what to say. What had she been thinking, coming here?

“You can’t leave,” she pleaded.

“Why not?”

“Because I need you,”

“That’s all it is with you, Joey. Me, me, me, you want it all. You say you want me and then, bang, it’s back to good ol’ Dawson,” Pacey’s eyes blazed angrily

“He was in an accident . . .” Joey sobbed.

Suddenly the fury was gone from Pacey, leaving nothing but a supreme tiredness.

“I know, and that’s why he needs you and I don’t. That’s why I’m leaving,”

“You can’t leave,” she repeated desperately. Damn her, he thought, why did she have to look so pathetic -- and so beautiful?

“Joey, there’s all this stuff going on, stuff which has nothing to do with the accident, stuff between you and me. Stuff which I have no idea how to work out,”

“We’ll work it out together,”

“But that’s the point, Jo. I don’t want to have to work it out. It’s all too complicated,”

“So that’s it, is it?” Joey’s voice was hard “It’s too complicated so you’re running away,” she shook her head bitterly “I was wrong about you, Pacey. See, I never saw you as a coward. I always thought you had more backbone than that,”

“What do you want from me, Joey? Why did you come here?”

“I came here to see a friend, only, I’m not sure that friend exists anymore,”

“I’m still here,” he said gently “Now why did you really come here?”

Joey was silent for a long time before speaking.

“You know, everyone expects me to be strong,”

“You are strong,”

“No, I’m not. Nobody can be strong all the time. Sometimes I need someone to lean on too. I was hoping you’d be that person, Pacey, but . . .”

Pacey moved closer, minimising the distance between them.

“Let me be that person. Please,” he whispered earnestly, and reaching out to her, he put his arms around her awkwardly. Resting her head against his chest, she finally felt at peace. She didn’t care what tomorrow brought. Suddenly she felt she could handle anything, as long as she knew Pacey would be there.