“Well, are you going to make your move, or aren’t you?”

She crosses her arms, flashing me that playful, sexy smirk I’ve gotten used to over the past few weeks, and immediately, I spring into action, because that’s what I’m supposed to do.  I dive into her as she laughs, catching her lips with mine, kissing her powerfully as I grip her hips with my hands and push her down onto the bed, letting my mouth travel from her lips, down to her neck as my hands start to travel upwards...

Despite all of this, it’s not where I want to be.

“Cut! That’s perfect...exactly it!”

I get off of my co-star and wipe my mouth a little bit.  “Finally.”

“Jesus.”  She huffs.  “One more take and I’d be ready to just go ahead and do the real thing.”

I laugh lightly.  She’s a cool girl, and hell, maybe if I was intoxicated I wouldn’t mind banging her for real.

But I’m not intoxicated.

I don’t do that anymore.

“Let’s take five, people.”

Thank God.  “See you in a few.”

“Sure.”  She pulls out her cell phone and immediately dials a number and starts to chat away, as if I wasn’t just straddling her a few minutes ago.  She’s not phased...she’s an actress, used to it.  

I’m still learning though, and it’s more than obvious because I’m hard as a rock inside my boxers.

Damn it.

I hightail it to my trailer and shut myself away, rubbing my face with my hands harshly, pushing myself to force the sleepy feeling away.  I refuse to be tired.  Not today, when I’m about to start my vacation in t minus five hours.  I want to be ready to walk off that airplane and hit the slopes just as the sun is going down, even if it means I’ll have to sleep in extra tomorrow morning.

I just don’t care.

It’s been too long since I’ve been near that powder, and man, I need it.  So bad.

My phone buzzes to life, just as I’m about to go into the bathroom and try to rid myself of the slight issue in my pants.  I find that it’s my best friend calling though, and since I’ll be seeing him in a few hours I decide to answer, figuring he might have an update for me.

But of course it’s nothing like that.

“So when’s your flight leaving?”

I adjust myself through my jeans, and glance down at a stack of papers one of the assistants has left on my dresser.  More stuff to look through, and sign.  I guess I’ll have my work cut out for me on the flight.  “Seven.” I say it tiredly.

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic or anything.  I mean, it’s only been three months since we’ve seen each other.”

I smirk.  I miss Trace.  The guy is right, it has been too long since visits.  But I’ve been in New York filming, while my best friend stayed behind in LA, handling the clothing line and spending time with his current flame, Samantha.  I’ve met her twice, and she seems like a great girl.  That’s one of the reasons for this trip, so I can get to know her a little bit better.  Trace hasn’t been this happy with a woman in years and I think...maybe, God willing, she’s the one for him this time around.  “I’m sorry man,” I chuckle.  “I’ve been going on five hours of sleep for the past couple of nights.  That doesn’t really mix well with a twelve hour work day.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Mr. Movie Star,” Trace snickers.  “You’re the one who wanted to opt out of music for a while.  You knew it was going to be grueling.”

I shrug.  Yes, the transition has been taking some getting used to.  Of course it’s not my first movie, but it’s my first major role.  The kind that actually generates revenue, and I love that idea...it’s what I’ve been busting my ass for, making shit movie after shit movie.  Sometimes, I feel like I’m back in my glory boy band days, since the hours are so damn hellish and the directors treat me like I’m just an amateur to the entertainment business. I’m a workaholic though, i’ve always been, and I’ll push through it.  A nice, relaxing weekend, I know, is just what the doctor ordered.  There won’t be any cameras, directors, or pushy people.  Just me, my best friends, and the mountains.

My mom is ecstatic that I’m taking a break at all.  She’s not used to seeing me do it, and I guess it’s kind of out of character.

But I’ve been going through a personal change, anyway.

“You need it so bad baby,” she told me last night on the phone.  “You sound so tired, and I know this whole thing with Jess has been wearing you down too.”

I still don’t know why I proposed.  Maybe it was because she stuck by me for years, even when I was being a complete asshole.  Even when I fell apart and had to go to rehab, she still stuck by me despite the rumors and tabloids and media frenzy that my life became.  Then I came out of it, learned to stop drinking, got myself together, and so...I figured it was time.  It was time to settle down, to work my life out and figure out how I wanted to progress through my thirties.  Kids? A wife?

She shot me down the next day.

“Justin I just...I just can’t see it.  You know, us...married.  I don’t think we’re the type of couple that gets married.  We’re having fun you know?  Experiencing things together because we live extraordinary lives.  Can’t that be good enough?”

It wasn’t good enough.  It was a piss poor excuse, and I felt so...used.   

So I dumped her, moved on, and didn’t look back.  Just like Britney, just like Cameron...

They’re all the fucking same.

“So did you find somebody to bring?” Trace continues.  “Or did you and Jess make up or something?  It’s couples weekend you know.  It’ll be awkward if you come by yourself.”

I roll my eyes.  “Rachael can be my date.”

“Dude, that’s your cousin.”

“She’ll do,” I yawn, and lean down, taking a good long look at myself in the mirror.  God, I look exhausted.  “We’re not gonna fuck, and she’s a lot of fun.”

“Justin, seriously...call up a friend and bring her along.  You won’t regret it.”

“I don’t have any girls who are friends besides Rachael.  You know that.”

“Then I’ll give you one of my girls numbers and you can call her up,” Trace suggests, brightly.  He’s notorious for having more girl friends than guy friends in his repertoire.  They seem to flock to him for some reason, and when we were kids I’d always been tempted to question his sexuality.  But that one summer in Germany proved everything I needed to know about Trace.  He’s as straight as you can get, with an amazing fashion sense and a huge heart.  It’s any woman’s wet dream, and it’s what makes us different as individuals.  I figure it’s better this way.  Somebody has to be the prick, and why not me?  I’m the celebrity after all, the egotistical pop star turned actor.  People expect it, and I used to care.

Now I just let them think whatever they want.  I’m numb to it.

Never, ever, google yourself, by the way.

Trace rambles off a number, and I try to play it off as if I really give a shit.  

“That’s Linda.  Call her when you get off the set,” Trace orders me.  “Promise me.”

“Yeah, I will,” I lie.  “Listen, I gotta go, break is up and we have three scenes to shoot before they’ll let me leave.”

“All right cool.  I’ll see you soon.  Have a safe flight, buckle up and all that.  I wouldn’t want you to be thrown from your seat or something, get a concussion and miss the fun.  You should see the powder right now.  It’s nice and smooth.”

“You’re completely retarded, Trace.”

“I try.  Later.”

“Later.” I laugh and hang up, letting a heavy sigh escape me, as I shove my phone back into my pocket.

He’s the biggest pain in the ass ever, but I would be nowhere without him.  Literally.

A knock comes on my door, and then it’s opened a crack.  “Justin! You’re needed on set.”

I flash my most charming smile at the directors assistant, Kathy.  “Be right out Kath!”  I wave at her a little, and it’s enough to make her duck her head out the door and leave me alone.  I take a few more moments to collect myself, get back into my fun loving, clueless character that I’m supposed to be portraying, before heading over to the door.

But then my phone starts to buzz again.  

“Jesus.”  I yank it back out of my pocket gruffly, knowing that the longer I’m distracted, the longer it will take me to finish my work and start my vacation.  “Hello,” I grunt.

“Mr. Timberlake?”

It’s a woman’s voice that I don’t recognize and immediately, the feeling of being stalked takes over me.  “How did you get this number?”

“Oh...well, your assistant gave it to me.  My name is Fiona Carmicale.  I’m Captain Sarowski’s flight attendant, sir.”

The first thought to enter my mind is that she sounds a little like my mom, and if she were here with me, she wouldn’t hesitate to smack me for being such a jerk.  The second thought to enter my mind is that she’s decided to deal with me instead of Rachael, and I immediately begin to wonder what my cousin is up to.  “Well, she couldn’t answer your question?”

“She said since she isn’t coming on the flight, that she couldn’t tell me what you wanted for refreshments.  She said you wouldn’t mind that I called you.  I’m...I hope that I didn’t call you at a bad time.”

It’s not her fault, it’s Rachael’s and I’ll deal with her later, especially since she’s supposed to be coming on this flight with me.  “Not at all,” I say, a professional tone.  “It’s like a two hour flight right?”

“Yes, give or take sir.”

I smile and ramble off every type of junk food I can think of, from Twizzlers to Slim Jims knowing there won’t be anybody there telling me to watch my ‘sodium intake’ or ‘calorie count’.  Not that those things aren’t important to me.  They are...but I’m going to be on vacation, taking a break from the business, and I guess that means a break from my diet too.  

“And drinks? May I suggest a fine wine or spirit for takeoff, sir?”

I swallow hard.  “I um...I don’t drink.”

“My apologies, sir.  Perhaps a selection of soft drinks?”

“Sprite, bottled water, and caffeine free diet coke,” I say it quickly.  “I like that powdered Kool Aid that you pour in water too.”

“Of course sir,” she says with a small laugh.  “The Captain has also asked me to remind you to please be at the tarmac no later than six fifteen tonight, for a prompt seven o’clock take off.”

“Great. I’ll be there.  Thanks.”

I hang up, and take a deep breath, preparing myself for another round of filming.  I’m praying it will pass quickly, and painlessly.  I realize more and more as I stand here, how badly I need to get away from all of this.  It’s starting to effect me in a bad way again, makes me overtired, and depressed...and that can lead to bad things, like a relapse.  No, I need this break.  I need to kick up my feet and sit in front of a roaring fire, tell jokes with my friends, and put work and Hollywood...stress, to the back of my mind for the weekend.  
*********
“When.  When are you coming back?”

“Two days.”  I lean down and kiss her forehead, forcing my smile for her.  “One.  Two.” I tap her nose and she giggles.  “You’re going to behave while I’m gone right? Listen to everything Cassidy says without fighting?”

She sighs.

“Mack.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Okay.” I smile, and gently rub the arm that the IV is running into.  “Want me to fluffify you?”r32;
“Uh huh.” She grins, exposing the gap her two front teeth left behind when they fell out a couple of weeks back.  

“Sit yourself up...there...”  I reach behind her and fluff the three pillows behind her back the way she likes, making sure to flip them over so the cool side will be touching her face.  “Hows that?”

She leans back, and sighs.  “Better, mommy.”

“Good.”  I reach out and stroke her face, forcing myself to keep a composed expression for her.

Inside I’m dying of course.

But I always am.

She just...looks sicker and sicker, every day, and without that payment, without that money...she’s just going to get worse.

I feel so helpless sometimes.  So trapped.  She’s only seven, doesn’t deserve to be going through any of this.  I’d gladly trade places, sell my soul to the devil to be able to give my daughter the healthy body she needs.  But that’s so damn impossible, so I’ve resorted to the next best thing...working a high risk job, for the compensation money.

I mean, it’s not terribly dangerous.  I guess it’s the responsibility that comes with flying on these leer jets, that makes it a high risk.  It’s just me and the Captain, and if something happens to him, I’m the one in charge.  I’m the one responsible for the passengers on board, and these people aren’t just everyday passengers.  I’ve flown with some of the richest people in the world to various ports of call.  I serve them drinks, get them their dinner, and cater to their every desire, round trip, with the hope that I’ll get a decent tip at the end.  It pays well, very well, and if my daughter was healthy, I could give her a great life.

But she’s not, and her medical bills are so high, I struggle with every check I get, just to get half of them paid.

Now she needs a major, lifesaving surgery, in just three weeks, and if I don’t come up with ten thousand dollars...they tell me they’ll have to delay it, try to find me a sponsor or something...

But my daughter can’t wait, and so I’m praying...hoping to God that this run will get me enough to start making things happen.  Even if I only get two thousand, at least it’s something.  I can start a fundraiser on that.  This guy I’m flying...Justin Timberlake, I’ve heard from colleagues that he’s decent most of the time, likes to tip his help, unless you catch him on a bad day, and I’m praying I don’t.  

He seemed all right on the phone.

I hope that’s the case, because this is so damn important.

“It’s time, Fi.”

I look over my shoulder and smile for my sister.  “I’ll be right there.”

She nods, and silently ducks out of the room.

“Okay kitty cat.” I sigh.  “I have to go to work, but I’ll call you when I land.  I promise.”

She looks down at her stuffed bear, and I can tell she’s trying to be strong for me, but it’s hard...and I would never hold it against her.  “It won’t be forever, baby.  Just until I can buy you the special things you need, okay?”r32;
“Okay.”

She chokes it out, and I lean in and hold her close to me, letting her cry against me a bit, before forcing myself to let go of her.  “Be a good girl, promise me?”

“I promise.”

I kiss my finger tips and put them to her forehead.  “All my love baby.”

“Bye mommy.”

It’s only when I get out into the hall, the door safely closed behind me, that I allow myself to break down, let my tears out, because it’s the only chance I’ll have to do it for the next two days.  

“You’ll get there, Fi.” Cassidy comes up beside me and rubs my shoulder.  “You will.”

“What if it’s not in time?” I sob.  “Cass...they can’t wait.  If I don’t have that money...they’ll give the heart to somebody else.”

She sighs.  “I’m working on some fund raising stuff.”

“Selling magazines out side of Whole Foods is great, but it’s not enough.  I hate to be so blunt but...fuck, Cass...this is about Mackenzie.  I can’t...I can’t just let her die.”

“Nobody is saying that you’re at fault, and don’t be so damn negative.  She may pull through this without the transplant.”

“You know that’s not true.”

She’s silent, because she knows I’m right.

“It’s this damn military insurance,” she finally says.  “It’s horrible.  Vets get shit.”

“I know, and that means I need a God damn miracle.” I rub my face with my hands.  “Maybe I’ll get lucky and the rich guy I’m flying tonight will start choking and I’ll save his life.  Then he’ll give me an even bigger tip,” I chuckle.

“Who is it tonight?”

“Justin Timberlake.”

“Jesus,” Cassidy sighs.  “You have the best damn job.  That guy is just...fuckable, completely fuckable.  I heard he gets naked in that new movie he’s making.  I’m sold, even if he isn’t the best actor.  Did you know he’s still single? I read is US Magazine that he’s still stuck on Jessica Biel.  He’s all emo and ripe for the picking, scorned by his lover...that’s so hot.  It’s a good thing I’m not going on that flight.  I’d be horny the whole time.”

“Cass!”

“Well it’s the truth.  That man turns me on, I’m sorry, I can’t lie.”

“I’ll see if I can swindle an autograph for you,” I smile, and lean my head back against the wall.  “I’m not really concerned about how good looking he is, or who he’s dating.  I have my eyes on his bank account, as sick as that is.”

“If you didn’t have a good reason for it, I’d probably say something,” she chuckles.  “Fi, everybody knows you’re trying.  If Michael were alive I’m sure...”

“But he’s not.” I give her a tight smile.  

She nods.  She knows I don’t talk about it.

“I better go,” I whisper.  “Just...take care of her, and you know you can call me.  I’ll can take it on the Captains phone during the flight, if you really need me.”

“Have a safe flight,” she tells me, after we hug tightly for a few moments.  “Maybe...try to have some fun with it, you know? Not everyone gets to spend their time with celebrities and other interesting people.”

I shrug.  “They’re just people.”

“You’re so cut out for secret service.  Nothing phases you.”

“I’m still waiting on that application to come back,” I chuckle.  “Bye Cass.”

“See you Monday night.”

I walk away, and don’t look back.  If I do, I know I’ll be tempted to go back to my daughter, for one last kiss, and that just won’t do.  I still have to get to the store, fill my shopping list, and get to the airport in just under two hours.  I should have been out of here earlier, but...it’s hard, leaving my daughter.  Most of my weekends go like this.  I fly, stay in a hotel for the weekend, and fly home Monday night.  When my husband was alive, I didn’t do this at all.  I stayed at home with our daughter, while he continued to pursue his career in the military.

Then, two years ago, the unthinkable happened.

Michael was in Iraq, on a community recovery project.  He and his team would go in and try to help the people rebuild what was left of their war torn village.  He took a lot of pride in his work too, and made decent money to bring back home to us.  

They ran over a road side bomb their second day in, and...they only found...pieces of him.  It was hard to explain it all to Mack, she was only six, but I tried to let her know what happened in the most gentle way possible.  Now, she just thinks her daddy went up to heaven, and I try to help her remember him the best way I can through pictures and home videos.  It’s so hard, looking at them, and watching him.  I miss him so much, but that strong part of me, the part trained to numb myself to the pain and horrors of the real world, blocks out most of my emotions.

It’s how I got myself through in the very beginning, when I was first learning how to move on without my husband.  Then, Mack got sick, and my life turned into this crazy, chaotic mess.  None of us ever expected things would turn out like this.  Mack was always the healthiest, most energetic kid.  It was a routine physical that made her doctor run some tests, and it was discovered that a rare bacteria had started to grow in and around her heart.  At first he said it could be cured with medicine, and then surgery...

But it turned out to be much, much worse.

I spent all of our savings, including the money the military gave us for Michael’s death, on surgeries and medicine.  Now they tell me the only other option left is to get her a heart transplant, and her name has been on the list for a good year.  Now, she’s at the top of it, and they tell me a heart could come for her any day now, and when it does, we have to have that down payment ready...or they’ll give it to another patient.  There’s at least four of them here in the hospital, and as much as I’d like them all to live...I know, my daughter is the most important one to me.

I can’t lose her too.  Not after Michael.

I push it all to the back of my mind as I get into my car though.  I have to.  In this line of work, your smile and personality are the things that get you far, get you great tips, and get you recommended to other private pilots...bigger clients.  I’ve been with Captain Sarowski for about a year now.  We work well together.  He likes me because his clients feel calm when they’re around me, and I take good care of them.  I have that way with people.  I can make them feel comforted, completely secure, even though we’re thousands of miles off the ground.  It’s why I made sergeant in the Marine Corps.  I had this way with my troops.  I could get them through the night, through a mission, without any major freak outs.  I’m good with intense, impossible situations, know how to work my way around danger, know how to keep warm in the bitter cold, know how to keep cool in temperatures that soar well above a hundred degrees.

They wanted me to be special Ops, and I almost did it, I know I would have been great at it.

But I got pregnant, and had to discharge.  Not that I regret it, because I don’t.  I don’t regret anything about my life.

I just wish things had turned out differently.

I get to the supermarket within a half hour, and quickly blow through it, gathering things like Twizzlers, Slim Jims, Pixie Sticks, powdered Kool-Aid, soda, and water.  I laugh a little.  I feel like I’m shopping for Kenz, but the reality is, this guy is thirty, and he still pigs out like a kid.  It’s cute, gives me good vibes about this flight and the kind of person he is.  Two grand shouldn’t be a problem, and if I play my cards right, maybe I can boost another grand out of him.  

I gather a few more things, chocolate, beef jerky, and a few canned items, enough to last for three days, and I could stretch it into four if I had to.  It’s my thing, always.  Every flight, I pack an emergency kit, filled with canned food, water, first aid items, and other things.  It’s weird, I know...and maybe I’m paranoid or something, but being in the military for all those years taught me it was better to be safe than sorry.  The people I fly with, pay for the best, after all, and I’m prepared to give it to them.

I pay for the groceries and race towards the airport.  The most important thing about this job is promptness.  I have to be at the plane before the client, or it makes us look bad, and I know that.  Good thing rich people are always fashionably late, and even though I told Justin to arrive at fifteen after six, I did it knowing he wouldn’t make it until ten of seven.  It’s a safe play.

“Fiona.”  Captain Sarowski smiles at me when I finally arrive, and pecks me on the cheek.  “I’m glad you could make it for this one.”

“Me too,” I sigh.  

“Groceries?”

“Oh, you bet.”

He helps me get them out of my trunk, before I hand my keys the attendant, and he drives my car off to park it for me.  “So what do we have?”

“I’ve flown him a few times,” he tells me, as we walk up the steps that lead into the jet.  “He’s a nice guy.  You shouldn’t have any problems.”

I nod.  “How about the tips?”

He stares at me.  He knows why I’d ask, because he knows my situation, how bad it is, how desperate.  “Decent, Fiona.”

I nod.

“I’ll go start us up.  He should be here soon.  They radioed and told me he was going through security about ten minutes ago.”

“Yes, sir.”

He leaves me, and I straighten out my blouse, pull my little compact out of my pocket and put the final touches on my make up, and straighten out my hair clip, before I hear the little transportation cart surging toward us.  I shove the thing back in my pocket, stand straight and tall, and force my brilliant, unwavering smile on for the multi millionaire pulling up to the jet.  It’s his jet too.  That’s what these people do, buy their own planes, and hire people to fly them.  I can’t even imagine how much it costs, and that just means he has more money that I’ve ever seen in my life.  Just a tiny bit of it, I know, would save my daughters life, and it makes me want to resent him, but I can’t.  

It’s not his fault that Kenz is sick.

The little cart parks right next to the steps, and I see him get out, and look up towards me.  I wave a little, and he nods, as somebody hands him a duffle bag and laptop case, which he takes with a small smile.  He looks absolutely exhausted, and I feel my heart sink a little.  Tired clients make for less talk, which makes for smaller tips.

It figures.

The airport hands begin to load his other luggage underneath the plane, and he starts up the steps, duffle in one hand and his laptop case slung over his shoulder.  “Good evening, sir.” I smile for him when he reaches me, and hold my hand out to take his duffel bag from him, which he gives to me without hesitation.  “I hope everything has been to your satisfaction so far.  I’m Fiona, and I’ll be overseeing the flight.”
r32;“Lidia isn’t doing this run?”  He cocks his head to the side, like he hasn’t heard a word I just said.

I don’t take it to heart, not from a spoiled ass like him.  Nice guy or not, I can tell his type right off the bat.  Rolling in money for most of his life, he’s used to being spoiled and pampered, sucking up to people that can get him far or give him a better reputation and not giving a crap about the rest.  “No...she’s in Portugal with another client.  They handed the run off to me.  I hope...that’s okay with you, sir.”

He shrugs.  “I guess it’s fine,” he says, before walking onto the plane.

Just wonderful.  I close my eyes, force myself to get it together, because I don’t have a choice.

Justin is shaking the captains hand and joking with him as I enter the plane, and I simply go about my business as they continue to make small talk.  I stow Justin’s duffel near the spot he’s put his laptop bag, knowing he’ll want to go inside of it during the plane ride.  Then, I fix a tray of snacks for him, laying out the candy and junk food in an appetizing way, along with a bucket of ice and a small cooler filled with his drinks of choice, stowing them in the holder next to his seat.  I get out a pillow and a blanket, folding them neatly for him, and also provide him with a TV and movie guide for the satellite television installed on the plane.

Ready to go.

“I know you’re used to Lidia, but she’s been doing European runs lately,” Capatain Sorowski says as he guides Justin over to his designated spot.  “Forgive me for not properly introducing you.  This is Fiona Carmicale, one of the best, if not, the best flight attendant I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.  You can rest assure, that everything you need will be taken care of, Justin.  I hope you have a wonderful flight with us.”

“Thanks, Joe.” He smirks slightly, and eyes me again, giving me the once over, like he’s trying to figure out if he can trust me.

This guy has issues, it’s obvious, but still, I smile.

A tip is the most important thing, not what he’s all about, and the more ass kissing I do, the bigger it will be.  That I can guarantee.

“Buckle down in ten minutes, Fiona,” the captain smiles for me one more time, and then retreats to the cockpit, which I make sure to lock behind him.

“Would you like anything else before takeoff?” I offer, as Justin gets settled into his seat.  I see him begin to reach for a can of Sprite, but I step in before he can, open it, and pour it into a glass for him.

“You don’t miss a beat, do you,” he smirks.

“I try not to, sir.”

He nods.  “I think I’ll be okay, for now.”

Great, I think, because I’d like to shove some food in my face before we take off.  I go to my pack, stowed near the cockpit entrance and pull out a box of Kenz’s favorite animal crackers, downing a few, before I take my seat.  

“You gonna spend any time in Vail?” He asks me.

I perk up, right away.  “Well, I’m staying the weekend.  I’ll be on the flight back.  I figured I would go window shopping or something.”

“You don’t play on the powder?”

I laugh.  “I’m not big into snow sports, no sir.”

“That’s a shame,” he sighs.  “It’s fun.”

“I’d like to keep all of my bones in tact, if possible,” I chuckle.  “But I hope you have a good time.”

He shrugs.  “My boy is gonna nag me to death.  I was supposed to bring somebody along, you know...it’s couples weekend.” He says, rolling his eyes.  “My cousin ditched at the last minute.  I could kill her.  Say, you wouldn’t want to pretend to be my date would you?”

He says it with a smile, but I know he’s just kidding.  Still, Cassidy would shit.  I smile, thinking about her, about what she would say right now.  I can only imagine.  “Somehow I think that might cross the professional boundary, sir.  But I’m flattered.”

“True,” he nods.  “You know, you’re pretty cool.  I’m not so pissed about Lidia anymore, even though she’s like a second mother to me.”

I guess I should take that as a compliment.  “Thank you, sir.”

He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes.  “Would you let me know when I can use my iPod, Ferra?”

He got my name wrong, and my smile quickly fades.  It’s my biggest pet peeve...ever.  “It’s Fiona.”

His eyes open, and he looks at me strangely.  “Oh...well, fine, Fiona.  If you can just let me know, unless that’s too much of an issue for you?”

He’s annoyed.  I can tell, and I should know better.  My tip, has just been cut in half.  Damn it.  Michael always told me I was too headstrong.  “I’ll certainly let you know, sir.  Of course.”

“Great.”

His eyes close again.

I take in a breath, and rub my face with my hands.

It’s going to be a long flight.

We’ve been flying for a little over an hour and I wish I could say I was bored, but the truth is, I’m up to my neck in emails, shit that I should save for next week, but I know all too well that getting a jump start on them now will save me from getting an earful from my publicist and my mom come Tuesday.  It sucks.  I’m always working, and right now, all of this shit about...why did you say that, or, can you make this appearance, will you do this interview, will you read this script for so and so...

It’s giving me a damn migraine.

I say fuck it all, and close my laptop, shove it in my bag and push it away from me so I won’t be tempted to touch it again.  Hell, I shouldn’t have even brought it, but that would be crossing the line for a workaholic like me.  

I called Rachael the second I was dismissed from the set, completely pissed off that she was trying to ditch me.  She played it off like it was no big deal, told me that it was my vacation, so that meant she was going to take a weekend for herself.  Deep down, I knew I owed her that, for all the shit I put her through, but at the same time I needed her...so bad.  

Besides Trace, and my immediate family, she’s the only other person that was right there when it all happened, saw me come apart at the seams, and was a big part of the reason why I was able to come back from the whole thing.  I feel...lost, at times, without her.  I told her all of that too, and she just told me that I would be okay without her for a few days, that she had plans, and that I would have a good time with Trace.

There wasn’t much I could say after that.  Fighting, would only bring a phone call to my mother, who would berate me for an hour about how poor Rachael needed a break.

So I went to JFK on my own, even though I was miserable the whole way there, and when I laid eyes on my stewardess, I can’t deny that it made my emotions flare up even more.  I was used to Lidia.  My mom hired her before Justified came out, and she always took care of me, knew what I wanted, and I felt secure with her, especially after rehab.  But she’d gotten more clientele, probably thanks to me, and I couldn’t hold that against her.  This Fiona chick...she doesn’t seem so bad.  Sure, I forgot her name for a minute there, and it seemed to unleash her raw side, but I’m over it now.  She’s precise, got everything I asked for on the phone, and actually...she won’t leave me alone.  She checks with me about every twenty minutes, makes sure my glass is never empty, and gives me a warm, pleasing smile that makes me feel comforted while we’re in the air.

I’d like to say it’s because she’s a warm, caring person.

But that’s crazy, and I’ve been in this business too long not to know when somebody is desperately bilking me for a huge tip.  As far as clients go, I’m probably the cream of the crop for this one, as cocky as that is to think.  It’s true though.  Every time I step on plane, or go to a hotel, the staff seem to fall all over themselves to please me, so they can put food on their tables and pay their rent.  I don’t blame them.  I can still remember, a long time ago, when my family was considered working class...when my mom had to wait tables part time to get us by because my father left.  I’ll always have respect for them...

But something is telling me that this Fiona chick is desperate...really desperate.  She needs this bonus.  

It’s vital.

I’m not sure I like that either, but as this is only a two hour flight, I won’t question her about her personal life.  At the end of the weekend, I’ll cut her a check for two grand as long as she does everything the right way, and she can be happy with that.  Then we’ll move on with our lives.  I’ll forget all about her, and she’ll do the same thing.

I take off my reading glasses, and pull my earbuds out, tossing everything on the empty seat beside me.  Then, my eyes are drawn to Fiona.  She’s sitting in her designated area, reading some book and taking notes.  She must be in school or something, and I guess that could be the reason she needs this money from me.  She has to pay for her books or something, yeah.  I can respect that.  If things worked out differently in my life, I’d probably be in the same boat.  It’s times like this I learn to take a step back and put myself in the other persons place, just like my mom raised me to.

“Mr. Timberlake, do you need anything?”

Jesus.  It’s like she can sense that I’m staring at her, thinking about her.  

She’s gotta be a mother.  It’s the only explanation, because my mom does the same shit, to this very day.  “No, I think I’m okay.”

She looks back over her shoulder and gives me that perfectly aligned smile of hers.  “Okay.”

“You can all me Justin,” I reassure her.  “I’m not big on the formal stuff.”

“Certainly, Justin,” she nods, and goes back to her reading.

“So do you go to school...”

BANG

I feel the damage surge through me, and I don’t know a thing about how an airplane works, but something inside is telling me there was more to that bang than just turbulence.  I gasp, and clutch the arms of my seat tightly, as I feel the plane jump, shudder and descend slightly.  “Oh God.”

Pussy.

Okay, I mean, I’m used to flying.  I had to get used to it when I was young, but I’ve never been a hundred percent secure while I’m in the air.  It was the reason for Lidia in the first place.  My mom must have interviewed fifty people before she found the one person that would keep me from having a meltdown in turbulence.  

“It’s just some turbulence.”  Fiona shoots up from the chair, and looks out the window for a moment, before coming over to me.  “Are you okay?”

I look at her, and swallow hard, not being able to do anything more than nod.

“Do me a favor and put that seatbelt on.” She smiles gently.  

I do it, without a second thought, and strangely enough, it starts to make me feel a lot better.  My heart slows down, and my breathing becomes regulated again.

“Here, sip it slowly.”  She hands me some water.  “It’ll calm you down more.”

“Thanks.”  I do it for several moments, and then return the cup to the arm rest.  “You’re a mom aren’t you?”

Her expression is serious for a split second, before she forces a pleasant one for me again.  “How’d you guess?”

“Just a hunch.”

“There’s a storm out there.” She rubs my shoulder in a professional, reassuring way.  “I’m going to check with the captain.”

She begins to walk away, but then another huge, sharp decent takes over the plane, and it takes everything inside of me not to scream.  “What...what the hell is...”

“Hold on. Just stay calm, Justin.”  She holds up a finger and walks towards the cockpit, picking up the device that she can use to communicate through the door.  “Captain Sarowski?”

She waits for several moments, and so do I, the silence deafening.  

Of all the times for there to be a problem...

No answer comes from the cockpit.

And then, the plane takes the biggest lurch of them all, swaying from side to side, causing my stomach to turn, and I start to feel sick.  The cabin pressure must drop, because the oxygen masks burst from the ceiling seconds later.  I stare at them, hoping its just a glitch, like they talk about on commercial airlines.  They say: ‘if the cabin depressurizes the oxygen masks may come down, do not be alarmed, as their use may not be needed.’

But something tells me I should be using mine.

Fiona doesn’t hesitate.  I see her yank her emergency cockpit keys out of her pocket and she opens the door.  “Joe!” I hear her call out, before she looks back at me.  “Put that over your face.”

This is bad.  I do it though, because I’m too fucking scared not to.  I put the round yellow rubber thing over my nose and mouth, and I feel the flow of air going in after a few seconds.  It’s easier to breathe now, and I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten inside the jet

We’re heading down, not up, and that’s bad.  Down and down, and nothing seems to be taking control of the aircraft.  What the hell? I mean really, what the fuck is going on?  I start to panic, which I know is bad, but damn it...I really didn’t want to die this weekend.  All I wanted to do was relax.

“Fiona!” I call through the mask, and although it’s muffled, I know she can hear me.  

“It’s an ice storm!  The windshield...a bunch of it broke through the glass..Joe is down!”  She looks back at me through the cockpit door, with a desperate gaze in her eyes.  “It got caught up in the engine...we have mechanical failure.  We can’t stay up much longer...I have to try to land us!  Just...sit tight and don’t take that mask off!”

“Do you even know how to land an airplane?”

She doesn’t answer, just slams the cockpit door so I can’t distract her.

I sit there trembling with fear as I hang on to my seat for dear life, and start to pray.

Jesus, we’re going down, and as I look out the window, all I can see are the snow capped Rocky Mountains below us.  We’re about forty minutes out from Vail, flying over the middle of nowhere, and soon...soon we’ll be stuck in the middle of it all, alone.

And the only person I have to rely on his her, a woman I’ve never even met before today.

We start to plunge toward the earth seconds later, at a rapid pace.  I know she’s trying, but it’s obvious that the aircraft is too far gone to control anymore.  I see the earth out my window, twisting, tumbling and turning.  A loud buzzing blares through the entire jet, telling me that we’re doomed.  Then...we hit, bounce, crash...

Something hits me in the head, and the last thing that flashes through my mind is Trace, telling me this would happen if I wasn’t careful.  That something would knock me out and I’d miss all the fun.

That fucker.

I pass out.
************
I’m dead.

I mean, I must be, because Joe is.  I see him there, hunched over the dash, his face bloody from the deep gash the glass caused when the windshield shattered in mid air.  I think...he must have died instantly.

At least he didn’t suffer, but fuck...what a horrible way to go.

That was a hell of a decent, and I couldn’t land properly once the engine completely gave out.  We hit the ground so damn hard, and I know I felt the plane flip over, and then back again.

I have to be dead.

But when my eyes open a little wider, and my vision clears, I realize I’m still inside the plane, the pain shooting upwards through my right leg.  Well...maybe I’m not...not dead.  I doubt you can feel this type of pain when you are.

So that means I’ve survived, but when I gaze out in front of me, all I see is white, everywhere, the snow swirling, a lot of it landing on my face and in my hair.  The wind howls too, a low, miserable sounding hollow moan and the gusts surge through the broken windshield, freezing me to the core.  I know the temperature has to be at or below freezing.

I how bad of a situation I’m in.

Or...wait...we’re in.

Jesus, the client.

I have to get to him, if I can.

I shift around, and find that my seatbelt is jammed, so I painstakingly reach into my pocket and pull out my set of keys.  I have a Swiss Army attached to the key ring, a gift from Michael...so long ago.  I’ve always carried it with me since, it’s just instinct. I slice through the belt, and pull myself out of the seat.  I realize the plane is upright, which is good.  Makes it easier to crawl through.  I yelp in pain when I move my right ankle, realizing that it hurts very badly.  It’s what is causing the pain to shoot up my entire leg, and I thank the powers that be that my whole leg isn’t shattered.

The ankle must be broken, either that, or it’s just a very bad sprain.  I won’t say I can’t walk though. No, nothing is impossible.  I’ve been through this...I can handle it, and the client is my main priority right now, not the pain.  My adrenaline kicks in all at once, and I will myself forward, out of the cockpit and back out into the cabin.  The emergency lights are on, dim, but on, and they allow me to see him right away, still belted down into his seat, that’s been partially uprooted from the floor of the cabin.  He has a gash on his forehead, which has been causing some blood to drop down onto his face, and his clothes, but I know it’s not a fatal wound.

But that doesn’t mean he survived.

I rush to him, sit up on my knees, bite my lip to choke back the pain, and I feel for a pulse.  It’s strong.  He’s okay too, and I thank the heavens for that.  “Mr. Timberlake.” I shake him slightly.  “Mr. Timberlake, can you hear me?”

He groans, and his head moves from side to side.  He’s delirious, but that’s common.  

“Mr. Timberlake, can you look at me?”

His eyes drift open, and he stares at me for a good long time.  “What happened?”  

It’s a hoarse whisper, but I know he’s not too far gone, and that’s good.  It means his head injury is something I can treat easily, and that will make both of our lives easier.

“There was an accident,” I nod.  “Watch my finger.”  I move it from left to right, and when his eyes follow it for the most part, I know he’ll recover.  “Do you think you can move? Do you feel like anything is broken?”

He just stares at me, and I know he’s in shock more than anything else.  I have to be the strong one now, for him, have to get him through this so he makes it home alive.  

The captain is dead.

He’s my responsibility.

Thank God I came prepared.

I take his seatbelt off.  “I’m going to help you down out of the seat if you feel like nothing else is wrong, okay?”

He nods, and I painstakingly grip his arm, doing my best not to put all of my weight on my bad ankle as I move him out of the seat and down into a debris free area of the floor.  I have him lay down, and quickly go to work, finding my pack that had been strewn to the back of the plane, and pulling out my first aid kit.  I clean up the wound, trying not to be effected when he winces and whimpers because the alcohol stings.  I realize the cut is pretty deep.

He’ll need a stitch or two.

“Justin, you need some stitches.” I tell him, as I gather my needle and stitching string.  “I’ll have to heat the needle to sterilize it, and I’ll do my best to numb the area, but I want you to know that you will feel some pain.  Do you understand?”

His eyes well up with tears.  “Is this happening?”

I sigh, and pull my lighter out of my pack.  “It is, but I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.  I promise.”

Fuck, I even smile.  

Cass is right, I am cut out for the secret service.

I really hope I see her again.

I don’t talk to him as I sterilize the needle and thread it with the string.  I pull out a vile of topical anesthetic, douse a cotton swap, and rub his skin.  “Let me know when it starts to work.”

“It’s tingling a little.”

“Then it’s working.  Now, please try to stay still, okay?”r32;

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

I sigh and narrow my eyes at him.  Even now, he doubts me, but I wouldn’t put it past him.  It’s typical for somebody like him...thinks I need to have a medical agree to give him some stitches.  “I really don’t think you’re in a place to question that, Justin.”

He sighs, and looks up at the dented ceiling, pressing his lips together.  “Just be fast,” he moans.

I roll my eyes, and start.  He winces in pain as my needle enters his skin, and I start my thread work.  I try to calm him by shushing him and telling him everything will be fine in a few minutes, just like when I sit with my daughter in the hospital.  It seems to work, slightly, and before I know it, I’m looping the last stitch into place, and cutting the thread off.  “There.”

“That hurts like a bitch.”

r32;r32;“At least you’re alive.”

“What about Joe?”

I sigh, and debate it for a moment, but I know the reality.  He’s going to find out, even if I don’t tell him.  “Joe passed away.”

He stares at me.

I take the opportunity to bandage the stitches, and wrap gauze around his forehead, so the elements won’t be able to wreck my work overnight.  “Don’t mess with it, okay?  I’ll check it in the morning.  You’ll have to sleep in intervals, you probably have a concussion.”

He just nods, and sits up when I move away from him.  “Don’t you have a radio, or something? We need to call for help, right now.”

“I’m trained to know what to do in these situations.”  I start digging around, picking up vital accessories that we’ll need, that were strewn around the cabin.  “The first step was to secure ourselves, the next is to gather everything we might need for the next few days.  I don’t even know where the hand radio is.  That pack probably got tossed out of its spot in the crash.  When I find it, I’ll let you know.”

“The next few days?”

“Justin, there’s a blizzard out there,” I remind him.  “Even if we could radio for help right now, they wouldn’t be able to get to us right away.”

“Of course they would...they have helicopters and...”

“I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“So what...we’re stuck here?”

“For the moment.  You could be helpful by gathering up things you think we might be able to use.  Go to the back of the jet and I’ll work my way forward towards the cockpit.  It’ll cut the time in half and we can move on to the next thing.  Look for things like flashlights, food, bottled water, and blankets.”

He swallows hard and his mouth hangs open, like he’s never heard of such a thing.  He thought this would be easy, that because he’s rich and famous somebody would immediately come to his rescue, but I’ve just given him a wake up call, even though I haven’t told him how dire I know our situation is.  We’re literally in the wilderness, in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles from the trails and ranger stations of the Rockies, and it’s going to be hard to get radio reception, even if I do find the hand link.  What’s more, when the sun rises, I know we have to get away from this plane.  As the air heats up, it’ll cause the gasoline in this aircraft to expand and contract, which means the whole thing could blow to bits.

I have no idea how I’m going to break it to him, that we’re going to have to start walking, and find some kind of shelter before night falls tomorrow.

I doubt he’s cut out for the rugged side of the wilderness...but then again, that’s why I’m in charge.

“This is everything I could find in the dark.” Justin scowls as he shuffles over to me thirty minutes later, with an armful of supplies.

Everything about that look is telling me he made a half assed attempt at following my instructions, but I know I can’t hold it against him.  This is probably the most extreme thing that’s ever happened to him before, so in the morning, I’ll make another sweep of the cabin just to be sure he didn’t miss any water.  Water, clean water, I know, is the most important thing for us.  “Fine.”

He plops down next to me.  “Did you find the radio?”

“No.  It might be in the cockpit.”

“Fine, then I’ll check.”

“No.”  I move in front of him as he starts for the doorway.  “I’ll get to it.”

“But we need it now.”

r32;“I said I would do it...” I trail off because my voice is starting to get louder, and the last thing I need, is him panicking.  “I said I’ll get to it.”

“Just let me go...”

“Have you seen a dead body before?” I say, bluntly.

He stops, stares at me, and I know he probably forgot all about Joe in his crusade to save himself.  “I...”

“Just leave it alone for now, okay?” I whisper.  “I don’t need you seeing that.  You don’t need to be anymore traumatized than you already are.”

He sits back down, and I know I’ve made a point with him.  I continue digging through my emergency supply pack, that I found wedged in between the bathroom door and the hallway.  Thankfully, all of its contents are still in tact, and that’s good.  I know, we’re going to need every single thing in here at some point.  “Here, have this.”  I pull out a chocolate bar and hand it to him.

“Do you really think I can eat at a time like this?”r32;

“You better, if you want to have energy in the morning.”

He doesn’t say anything, just takes it and starts to eat.  I have one too, and it makes me feel slightly better.  I decide it’s better to be safe than sorry, and start constructing a splint for my ankle.  The pain has gotten worse.  It’s definitely broken, or at least fractured, and I know the hours between now and sunrise are vital for it.  Keeping it still will help the mending process begin.  

“What happened?”

I don’t look at him.  “I have a sprained ankle.  Not a big deal.”

“Oh.”  

His teeth are chattering, and so, I raise a flashlight that I found into his face.  He squints, naturally, and asks me what the hell I’m doing, but I don’t answer.  I can see it already, his lips are blue, his face is pale.  He needs to warm himself up.  Me, I found some layers of clothing earlier and yanked them on.  He’s still in a thin sweater and jeans.  I know he needs his snowboarding thermals right now, but they’re in the luggage compartment, outside the plane, and it’s too dark to get them out right now.  It’ll have to wait til morning, but until then, he needs something else to keep his core temperature consistent.

I gather up every blanket I can find, and yank that duffle bag of his over to me.  There’s barely anything we can use, but I do find a couple of sweaters, and make him put them on.  There’s a pair of gloves, and a knit hat as well, and so I make him put those on too.  I put two layers of blankets on the floor, next. “Lay down,” I tell him.

“I can’t...I can’t just lay here...”

“Do you want to freeze to death?”

“I...no...”r32;r32;

“Then do what I say.”

He does it, scowling the entire time, and Jesus, I’ve never met anybody so stubborn in my life.  I put it to the back of my mind though.  My only concern right now is to make sure he’ll be warm enough to get through the night.  I cover him with the rest of the blankets when he finally lays down, making sure they are secure and tight around his body.  “Don’t move around a lot.  We need to keep your body heat in there, all right?”

“Great.”

I sigh, and begin to work on the splint again, smirking a little when it’s just right.  Then I flinch, remove my shoe, making sure I don’t make a sound.  I don’t want him to know how bad it is.  If he thinks his leader is in agony, then he’ll lose hope, and right now, hope is all he has.  I get the splint around my ankle, and secure it into place with some medical tape.  It feels slightly better, a little more secure, and I know by morning I’ll probably be able to walk on it better.  Good.

Justin will have to sleep in two hour intervals, but my watch is still working, thankfully, so I can time them.  “Try and get some sleep, okay?  I’ll wake you in a couple of hours, and you can have some more chocolate and water.”

“There’s no way I can sleep.”

“You have to,” I urge him, and put a comforting hand on his cheek.  “It’s...tomorrow is going to be a little hard.  You need your strength.”

“Hard?  Why?  Aren’t we just going wait for help to come?”

I sigh.  “I don’t know yet.  That’s why you need your rest, Justin.”

He’s silent for a long time, staring out into space, processing everything.  I can’t imagine the desperate thoughts surging through his mind.  He’s not like me, trained to pop into the military mindset during times like this, and without my guidance, he’ll die in a day or so.  That means I need to take care of myself, and once he’s asleep I will

Once he’s asleep, I’ll look for that radio.  Not while he’s awake, because if it’s broken, I know he’ll go into panic mode, just like any other passenger would.

“It’s really bad isn’t it? You know it is.  You know they might not find us.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

I’m a bad liar.

“I’m not stupid.  I know we’re like...lost.”

“The plane has a tracking device built in,” I reassure him, even though it could be broken too.  I won’t know for sure until the morning though.  “It can signal a distress call back to the tower if the plane crashes.  They know we’re down by now.”

“Are you sure?”

He looks at me, so desperately, like his very survival depends on me, and...I know it does.  

“I’m sure.”

Not that it matters, because we’re leaving it all behind tomorrow, to seek refuge in a safer place.

“Just close your eyes, okay?” I say it gently.  “Please.”

“Will you wake me up if something happens?”

“I have to wake you up in two hours anyway,” I smirk.  “Trust me.”

He nods a little, and then, he allows his eyes to close.

Thank God.

I wait another twenty minutes, until I hear his breathing get slow and rhythmic.  He’s fallen to sleep.  Great.  I silently push myself to my feet, test the weight on my ankle and find that it’s a little bit better than before. Then, I make my way back to the cockpit, doing my best not to look over at Joe, and holding back my groans as the brittle cold are shoots in through the windshield.  I search everywhere for the emergency pilot pack with the hand radio in it, finally retrieving it from underneath the Joe’s seat, doing my best not to disturb the body.  I pull it to me, feeling the adreniline rush through me again as I unzip it.

If it’s okay...we might be able to...to get home earlier than expected.

But it wasn’t meant to be.  When I dig the thing out, I find that it’s been snapped in two pieces, and I sigh harshly.  “Fuck.  No...please...”

I push it back together, and it quickly falls apart again.

This is very, very bad.

I stare at it.  Maybe, I could fix it, with some time and the right tools...the proper shelter.  But it will take some time, and the further we venture into the mountains, the harder it will be to get reception.  Still, I save the thing, just in case.  Perhaps at night, when Justin is asleep, I can work on it.  It’s the best I can do.

I make one final attempt at communication, finding the two way radio above the dash and picking up the hand link.  “This is Fiona Carmicale, flying on the Leer Jet 564.  We’re down.  Please come in.”

Static.

I take a breath, and try again.  “I repeat, this is Fiona Carmicale, flying on the Leer jet 564. We’re down.  Please come in.”

Just static.

Our communication has obviously been cut off, broken, due to the crash.

For the first time it really hits me that we’re alone, and for the first time since we crashed, my mind floats back to Mackenzie, back at the hospital, without me.  Without the money she needs to survive.

And that's the only reason I start to cry.

I’m in the middle of a nice dream.  One about, floating through the air on my best snowboard, landing on the smooth white powder, feeling the wind whipping across my face, and being able to hear the excited yells of my best friend somewhere behind me.

But when my eyes float open again, I know that’s not my reality anymore.

This is.

I can’t believe I made it through a crash like that, without breaking a bone, or hell, dying.  It was fucking intense, I could tell just by the condition of the interior of the jet, and I’m glad I passed out for the worst parts of the crash.  When I bought the jet, the salesman told me it was the first of its kind, with state of the art built in safety features that hadn’t been put out on the market yet.  Maybe it’s why we made it to the ground in one piece...although, Joe wasn’t so lucky.

It’s fucking crazy.  I haven’t looked at the body, at the advice of Fiona, but I know...it’s intense, that he died the way he did.  I don’t know if I should blame myself or blame the watch towers for not alerting us about an ice storm.  Or maybe they did, and Joe felt he could fly through it.

I guess I won’t be able to find out the truth.  Not until we get back home.

If we get back home.

No...I can’t think that way.

We’ll get back home.  Fiona has a good head on her shoulders, knows what she’s doing, and it seems like she’s been through similar situations before.  She got me through the night, concussion and all, even though my stubborn ass complained the entire time.  If my mom were around, she would have been quick to slap me.

But she wasn’t around, and she’s still not.

I need her right now, so bad, as lame as that makes me feel.

It’s morning.  She woke me up about an hour ago, gave me some water, and a package of crackers, told me to eat them all, drink the whole bottle of water, and I listened to her.  I feel okay.  Not the greatest, my head is still aching a lot, but I know I have enough in my system to get me through the morning, and that’s the important thing.  She told me to stay put, while she went outside.  She’s trying to get the luggage out of the bottom of the plane, keeps telling me I need my snowboarding gear, and I guess it’s a good idea.  I’ll be a lot warmer in that stuff than I will be in three sweaters and a pair of jeans.  

It takes me a few moments, but I’m finally able to get up, and shuffle over to the corner so I can pee.  The emergency lights that were on last night are out now, so the only light I have in here, is the little bit of daylight seeping in through the porthole windows.  It makes the interior of the cabin look slightly eerie, like a ghost town.  There’s still debris everywhere, and parts of the ceiling are still falling to the ground every few minutes.  I check all around me before I prepare myself to pee, ensuring nothing will fall on my head, and that Fiona is nowhere around.  Then, I unzip, and let out a soft groan as the liquid leaves my body.  It warms me slightly, and I shudder at the feeling, because it feels so good.  

It’s the most comfort I’ve had since we crashed, and I know, it might be the most I’ll get for a long time.

My mind drifts to the emergency radio.  Fiona hasn’t told me if she found it yet, and I’m not sure what to think.  Maybe it’s broken, and she’s too afraid to tell me, or maybe...it’s not.  Yeah, maybe we just don’t have any reception around here..we’ll have to walk a little ways where we can retain it, and then we’ll call for help.  By tonight a helicopter will be flying in and...and we’ll be saved.

I try to make myself believe it, I do.

But it seems too damn good to be true.

I know this is a desperate situation, even if she won’t admit that to me.  I may not be nature savvy like she seems to be, but I know a bad thing when I see it.  I have this intuition, I guess.  It prevents me from making foolish business decisions, and befriending the wrong people.  Right now, that intuition is telling me that we’re hopelessly lost out here, miles and miles from civilization...

It will be a miracle if anybody finds us before we freeze to death, or run out of food and water, whichever comes first.

I’m not prepared to die though.  I’m really fucking not.  Christ, I mean, I just spent half a year in rehab.  That’s a lot of work...so much work, that I put into myself, to make my life better, and now here I am...days away from death unless we get lucky, or Fiona comes up with some kind of amazing plan, neither of which I have any faith in right now.  

I’m just...so hopeless.

I shake my head roughly, tuck back in and zip up.  No, I have to think.  I have to try to help out with a plan too.  I mean, I think I’m resourceful enough.  Right?

“Do you think you can help me pull?”

I look over my shoulder and find her standing there in the doorway.  She has a coil of rope in her hand, and is slightly out of breath.  “Pull?”

“The luggage door is jammed.  I need some more muscle to get it open.  Do you feel up to it?”

“I...yeah.”  I know there is no other choice.  My thermals are locked inside of there right now, along with a bunch more of my stuff that may or may not help us.  Whether or not my head is pounding, isn’t a factor right now.  “I’m coming.”

She nods, and goes back outside.  I follow soon after, but once I step all the way outside, the bitter cold nearly knocks me on my ass.  It’s so white, everywhere I look, and when I look out into the distance, all I can see are snow covered mountains and miles and miles of desolate, barren, snow covered land.  It’s freezing, still, even though it’s light out.  The wind is blowing too, so hard, sending mists of snow into my face and eyes.  My teeth chatter, and I hug my arms to my chest as I slowly make my way over to where Fiona is standing, waiting for me to help her.  I’ve never been so miserable outside with powder all around me.  But then again, when I come up here, I’m half a mile away from a warm cabin, and there are rangers stationed all around me.  I’m safe then.

But I’m not safe now.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?”

I suck in a breath, and cough a little when I stop and stand beside her.  “Just tell me what to do,” I say, miserably.  “I want my clothes.”

“Take one end, and I’ll take the other.  Pull as hard as you can, and if luck is on our side, the door will fly open.”

I don’t hesistate, or complain, despite how shitty I feel.  I just take one part of the rope that’s been wrapped around the door handle and pull with all my might.  It’s jammed up really bad, but I don’t give up.  I won’t.  I can’t...because those thermals are so important right now.

“Hang on.”

She’s out of breath, and I know I have to rest for a minute too.  I bend over, put my hands on my knees, and curse fate for putting me in this situation.  “Fucking...damn it.”

She doesn’t say a word, and I simply wait...wait for her to get herself together again.

“How about another try?”

I nod, and then we start in again.  This time I pull even harder, force my adrenaline to kick in, and grunt harshly as I use every last bit of stamina in my body to get the door open.

Then it comes, harshly, forcing me to fall backwards into the snow.  For a moment, I just sit there, stunned, as Fiona lets out a large sigh.

“Good work,” she tells me, breathlessly, walking over to me and holding her hand out so she can help me up.

I stare up at her for a few moments, squinting as the sun peeks out from behind the clouds and shines down on my face.  It feels good...familiar, like Los Angeles briefly, before it goes back into hiding again.  “Thanks.”  I take her hand, and slowly get to my feet again.  Then we plunge into the cornucopia, grabbing suitcases and tossing them out onto the snow covered ground.  I have three, and she has two.  

“Yes...perfect,” she smiles, once all the luggage is out, and the bottom of the compartment is revealed.  

I stare down at what she’s looking at, and see it, feeling my smile grow a little too.  It’s bright red, and will attract attention if somebody is looking for us by air. “An emergency tent.”

“Your people thought of everything.”  She chuckles.  “Good thing, I guess.”

“Yeah...great.”

She pulls it out and tosses it onto the big pile of crap.  “Let’s get started,” she tells me.  

I nod.

We open them all up, and I pull out my thermals, my North Face snow suit, and my goggles, practically hugging them, because I’m so thankful for them.  Fiona finds my snow boots a minute later, and tosses them at me too.  

I’m set, and thankfully so.

“Change in the plane,” she orders me as she hands me three pairs of socks.  “Try to be fast, okay? I’m going to make us supply backpacks.”

I hug my stuff closer to my body, and give her a confused look.  “What for?”

“Well we...we have to get to higher ground.  It’s not safe here.”r32;
“Why not?  The plane is here.  That’s what they’re going to be searching for...what if they miss us because we aren’t here?”

“They’ll be searching the general area, Justin.  Don’t worry about why...I have my reasons.”

“You can’t just keep everything a damn secret, you know?  I need to be in the loop too.”

“I’m trying to keep your panic level to a minimum,” she informs me, as she crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at me.  “You need to trust me, Justin.  I know what I’m doing, and right now, moving on from here is the safest play.”

“Well then you go,” I mutter.  “I’ll stay here and wait for them to show up.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well, then I guess you’re stuck here too, aren’t you?” I flash her a sarcastic smirk, and turn back toward the cabins entrance.

“The gas in the tank is going to expand as the weather gets warmer.  That means the plane could explode anytime...even right now,” she calls back to me.  “Unless you want to take that chance, I suggest you change, and get ready to walk a little bit today.”

I swallow hard.  No, she’s trying to scare me.  That’s all it is.  I look back at her.  “You’re just saying that to scare me.”

“Do you really think I would fucking play around right now?”

No I don’t, but the idea of leaving my jet behind, the landmark for our rescue site, doesn’t make me feel any better.  What if they pass over us? What if they miss us, and we die because we walked away?  I don’t want to take that chance either.

But...but I know...I know she has a point.

Fuck.

“Whatever, fine.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Good.  Make sure you use all three pairs of socks, and put your hat and gloves back on.  Don’t touch the bandage, either.”

I don’t say anything, just go in, and change into my warm, dry layers.  It feels great, so much better than those sweat shirts and jeans.

Maybe I can do this, survive this.

Yeah.  

I feel that good right now.  

Hell, maybe this will be a piece of cake after all.  With that in mind, I scour the cabin for any other essentials I might want to take with me before we begin our journey.  I find my cell phone after awhile, and surprisingly enough it’s in tact, aside from a small crack across the screen.  Naturally, it’s dead, but I decide to keep it anyway.  I have too many contacts that I’ll lose if I leave it behind, and I know they can transfer all the information from my sim card to my new phone when I get home.  I also grab my laptop in its case, which also has sustained minimal damage.  There’s months of work and information stored on it that I would hate to lose, and so, it’s coming with me.

Now, I’m good to go.

I venture back outside, and find that Fiona has gone through the rest of the luggage on her own, throwing everything we can’t bring with us off to the side, leaving two bulky camping backpacks resting at her feet, along with the tent.  There’s a few jeans and articles of clothing I can already make out in the junk pile, that I know are a few of my favorite things, but I can’t dwell on them.  I know how unimportant they are compared to food and water, so I won’t complain.

“What is that?”  She sighs out the words and points to the laptop bag slung over my shoulder.

I glance down at it for a moment.  “My computer."

“Were you planning on finding a wireless signal out here in the wilderness, Justin?”

I give her a weird look, and laugh a little.  “No I...just have a lot of stuff on here.  It wasn’t damaged much.  When we get home they can fix it for me.”

“Your backpack weights a little over eleven pounds.  Once we start walking for a few hours, it will feel more like fifty.  You can’t have the additional weight of that case on your person.  Your energy will be lost that much faster, and we don’t have the rations to compensate.”

“I can’t leave it behind,” I scoff.  “You can’t expect me to.”

“You’re going to have to.”

She reaches out with a regretful expression to take it from me, but I quickly yank away from her.  “It’s coming with me,” I grunt.

“It’s not.”  Her voice is deep and dark this time, stone cold serious.  “Put it down, now.”

“Just how far are you expecting us to walk, Fiona? I mean, a couple of miles won’t kill me.”

“Damn it!”

She yells at me, and it’s the first time she’s lost her composure, at all, since I first laid eyes on her yesterday.  I feel my eyes grow wide, and I just stare at her.  

“I’m doing my best...my damn...best for you! I’m trying to lay the hard shit on you as gently as I can, so you won’t have a panic attack or something! You have no conception...of any of this!”

“I understand...”

“You don’t understand!” She reaches forward, and rips the laptop case off of my shoulder.  “We can either carry the supply of bottled water between us or your computer, and I’m definitely not sacrificing my life so you can retrieve some kind of document later on!”

I don’t try stop her this time, not even when she throws it into the pile of “junk” she compiled earlier.  I’m too shocked I think, seeing this side of her come out.  It’s obvious to me that she doesn’t take any shit.  It’s her way or the highway, and while I hate that, I know...she’s the more knowledgeable one right now.

“Prove your point?” I mutter.  “Did that make you feel like...self righteous or something? You feel in control now?”

“Fuck...do you even know why I was on that jet in the first place?”

“To flush a tip out of me so you could go shopping?”

She laughs, and it’s a bitter one, a resentful one.  “Oh totally...shopping.  Are you really that...warped, to think I would...God, of course you are.  I’m so lucky, you know?  I was given the opportunity to spend an entire weekend on a plane, shuttling your spoiled ass across the country, hoping and praying that if I kissed your ass hard enough, you might have tipped me a little extra...so my seven year old wouldn’t die from a heart defect.  Complain about your stupid problems all you want, Justin, but understand that I don’t give a fuck, about any of them from this point on.  They’re petty and so are you.”

She grabs my pack off the ground and tosses at me next.  I catch it, roughly, and stare at her, at a loss for words.

I mean, I had no idea.

I feel shitty.  Shitty, but still a little angry at her too.  How was I supposed to know? But then again, if I hadn’t been acting like a fucking asshole a minute ago, she wouldn’t have had a reason to divulge that to me.

Great.  Now I feel like my entire life is completely insignificant.  She was never in this for spending money.  Her kid is dying.  She needed it.  Hell, she still needs it.

Now we’re here, and she might not get back, not even to say goodbye, and I’m worried about a damn lap top.

I’m a fucking asshole.

“Put it on.”r32;

I do it.  “I didn’t...I didn’t know about your kid...”

“Forget it,” she cuts me off.  “Subject dropped.”  She shrugs into her backpack once she’s secured the emergency tent to the top of it.  “How does your head feel?”

I shrug.  “As good as it’s going to get.”

“Then let’s go.”

She turns quickly, and starts to trudge through the snow.  In what direction and to where, I have no idea, but I follow her anyway, because I know it’s my only hope of getting out of this alive.  I look back over my shoulder every few seconds, seeing the jet getting further and further away from us, and my heart sinks deeper in my chest with each step, knowing I’ll never see it again after today.

Never see Joe again.

And maybe I’ll never see another human being again, besides Fiona.  Not the best way to go, but at this point, I really don’t have a choice.  I’m stuck with her, whether I like it or not, and whether she hates me or not.  She’s got a job to do, to get me home, and that’s as far as her feelings for me will ever go.  She has one goal, to get back to her son or daughter, and from here on out I know I need to keep my head together a little better, separate what’s vital, from what just...isn’t, and help her guide us back to civilization.

Before it’s too late.

We walked for three hours before the sky grew from a dull white, back into a dark grey color.  The wind blew as hard as it ever had since we crashed, and then the snow started to fall, thick, and heavy from the sky.  All too soon, I couldn’t see a damn thing in front of my face.  When I turned back to Justin, I saw that he had stopped a few feet from me, his arms crossed to himself protectively as he glanced around, trying to make out something, if anything, in the distance.

And I didn’t want to stop . I wanted to keep going, because I’d been trained on how to find my sense of direction in hazardous conditions.  I stood there, what seemed like forever, and debated if it was a smart move to keep going.  But I knew he wouldn’t last.  He was a civilian, and had never tried to trudge through a wild blizzard before.  The more I forced him to push his body to the limit, the more I knew how bad of a condition he would be in later...when it really mattered.  It forced me to cave in, and seek refuge in some pine trees.  It was too dangerous to put the tent out.  The wind was blowing too hard and could have carried it away.  There are only a few things I consider absolutely vital to us, and that tent is one of them.  It has a thermal layer between the exterior and interior, that’s guaranteed to keep the heat inside.

We need it, so badly, and I won’t lose it, come hell or high water.

“Can we set up the tent?”

He won’t look at me when he says it, but I know why.  Our blowout earlier gave him another wake up call, and I guess...I shouldn’t have lost my composure like that.  I shouldn’t have gotten so personal, either, told him about Kenz, but I just couldn’t help myself.  He was acting selfish and spoiled, by my standards, treating a personal appliance like it was more important than anything else I worked so hard to pack.  I mean, I had to sacrifice almost all of my luggage to make room for the vitals.  My research books and notes that I’d been using to understand Kenz’s disease better were tossed away, to make room for water, food, blankets, and other survival supplies.  I took more weight on than Justin, because I knew his energy would get sucked out of him faster.  Of course, if I make it back home, it’s going to be hell reconstructing all of the notes again, but at least I’ll be alive...home with my daughter, and that’s all I care about right now.

If Kenz passed, I know it would be hard as hell, but I could live with it, eventually, as long as I was able to be with her during her last moments.

If I miss those...

If I miss those, if I’m too late, I know I’ll never come back from that pain.

“Fiona, can we please set up the tent?”

I look at him.  His teeth are chattering, and his face is turning that pale color again.  His core temp is dropping now, despite his layers, but that was bound to happen.  The sky is turning from grey to black, and I know nightfall is upon us.  It makes sense.  We’ve been sitting here a good seven hours, waiting for the worst of the storm to pass.  That means the temperature is dropping way down, and we need a better source of shelter if we’re going to last until morning.  He needs to eat something too, has get some more fluids in his system, and hell, I know I do too.  My teeth aren’t chattering, not yet, because I know how to contain myself, but I can feel the chills running up and down my spine.  I’m not doing so well either, my temp is dropping rapidly.  I also have to build a fire, which I know I can pull off if the wind doesn’t start acting up again.  “Fine.” I say, and pull a chocolate bar out of my bag, breaking it in half before handing some to him.  “Eat this in the meantime.”

He only glances at me slightly before he takes it, and miserably bites a chunk off.  

I go to work, unstrapping the tent from the top of my bag and loosening the straps that are holding it closed.  Thankfully, it’s a non assembly type.  I just have to pull it loose, and it springs up into place, which relieves me.  I make sure to secure it into the ground with the provided anchors, stepping on them roughly, driving them as deep into the snowy ground as possible.  I pray it’s enough.  I pray the thing doesn’t get ripped up during the night, when the wind will be stronger.

“Are...are you sure it’s out in the open enough?” I hear him croak out from behind me.  “Can...can they see it?”

I sigh.  “It’s visible, Justin, but the weather conditions are very poor.  I doubt they could fly tonight.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“I know.”

He’s silent.

Okay so maybe I feel a little bad for the guy.  He’s trying, and sometimes his ego gets in the way, but really...did I expect more from him?  No.  He’s not used to this.  He wasn’t in the military, and I need to remember that.  He’s not a cowardly solider fresh out of boot camp, he’s just a guy.  A very young, very rich, completely terrified guy, that I’m in charge of keeping safe and getting home again.  I have to try harder, be a little bit more understanding...see things from his perspective.

But that’s not really in my blood.

One thing I’ll always regret, I think, is being too strict with Michael.  He was always so easy going, no matter the situation, and tried to get me to be that way too.  But I could never just...kick back and relax with him.  I was always going and doing, and he was always the one who had to catch me mid step, pull me back to him and kiss me harshly on the lips to remind me how much he loved me.

If I could have him back, I would try so hard to...just be a little bit more compassionate.  But it’s too late now.

I miss him.  

I don’t think about him enough, but I guess right now...my mind is getting a chance to stretch itself after so many months of worrying about Kenz, and the bills, and everything else.

My heart starts to ache when I remember the way he would laugh as he held me in his arms, and immediately, I tuck that...the memory of him, deep back inside of me.  “Can you look around where you’re sitting, Justin?” I call out to him after a moment.  “We need a few branches.”

He does it without another word for several minutes.  “Here’s some.”

I take them from him, and nod.  “Bring your bag inside, and get out some blankets.  Sit and wrap them around yourself, and I want you to drink a bottle of water too.  When I get this fire going, we’ll have a hot meal.”

“Should I...help you?”

I shake my head.  “Just do what I say.”

He nods, and then, he trudges away.

I think he’s starting to get it, really understand what it takes to survive, and God willing, he’ll stop complaining after today.

I pull up my pant leg and check on my ankle when I’m sure he’s out of sight.  It’s swollen of course, but not as bad as it would have been without the splint. Naturally, the pain has been with me all day long, and it hurts so bad, but I’ve been sucking it up for him, because I’m strong and resilient.  There is pine everywhere, and I know I can make a quick serum out of the needles later on, that will soothe some of the pain...enough where I’ll be able to sleep, and that’s all I can really ask for at this point.  Tomorrow, I’ll find a thick limb and make a walking stick for support, and tonight...tonight I’ll get that map out after Justin has fallen asleep.  I’ll try to figure out where we are, and how far away that is from the nearest ranger camp.  

I’m hoping it’s close, that we can walk it in the three days we’ll have before our food supply completely runs out.  Really, the human body can go three weeks without food, but that doesn’t mean a thing when you’re in a desperate situation like this.  Without food, your energy runs low, and sure, you can survive for all those weeks if you stay in one place.

But in these conditions, we can’t afford to stay in one place.  The storms are too bad, it’s freezing, and I know that the wildlife in these mountains isn’t exactly the friendliest.  This afternoon, I saw some animal feces near some trees we were scoping out for shelter, and from the size of the load...I know it could have been from a bear.  That means we can’t stop, because if it finds us...I know our chances of getting away from it unharmed are minimal.

Walking is our best chance, but I won’t tell Justin.  I know the thought of trudging a couple of hundred miles to salvation will tire him out completely, and I won’t have it, because we can’t afford it.  I’ll just push through it, tell him that walking will make us easier to see or some load of crap like that.  He’ll believe it too, because he trusts me, relies on me...as much as he tries to pretend that he doesn’t.

I work feverishly to build the fire with my flint stones and swiss army knife.  The wind works against me for a long time, burning out the slightest traces of a spark.  I start to lose hope, think about saving my energy and treating Justin and I to a simple beef jerky dinner instead, even though the thought of those baked beans in my pack has been making my mouth water all day.  Then, the wind seems to settle for a few moments, and I quickly start in again, sparking my flints and working my knife.  A spark comes, lighting the dry pine needles and branches, then another.

Then a blaze, and I fall down on the ground, just watching it as it grows as a single tear floats down my cheek.

“Thank you,” I whisper, with my eyes closed.  “Thank you.”

It’s times like these, in my most desperate predicaments that I feel it...

Michael is with me.

“Hey, you did it!”

I sniffle quickly and make sure the any evidence of emotion is gone from my face so I can turn and look at him.  He’s standing just outside the tent with a couple of blankets draped over his shoulders, smiling like he’s never seen anything so wonderful before.  Yeah, I guess I did a good thing.  A great thing, that will bring him some comfort, if only for tonight.  “Come sit,” I tell him.  

He does it automatically, practically in tears as he reaches the fire and sits down next to it, letting it warm his face and body.  “This is so...this is so great, Fiona.”

I just nod.  “I’m going to heat up some beans for us.  I have some more crackers and we can have tea too.”

“Sounds good.”

He’s upbeat.  A lot more hopeful than before, and that’s great for him.  I need him to be this way, believe that there is a solution to everything.  That way, problem solving will become a hell of a lot easier.  I pull together our dinner out of my pack, and make sure to pull my care kit out too, so I can work on his head wound.  It’s healing okay, for the most part, but I know how quickly something like that can become infected without the proper care.    I peel back metal cover on the can, and dump the contents inside of the small metal pot I brought with me, setting it on top of a small folding rack out of my care kit, that will hold it over the fire.  It’s done within minutes, and I ration the beans evenly between us, along with one package of crackers for each of us, and a bottle of water each.  Tomorrow night we’ll have to share one.  We’re not exactly running low on water, but I don’t want to start taking the quantity we have for granted, in case something bad happens.  “I’ll make the tea after we finish.  You should break up those crackers into your beans.  It will make it heartier.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything else once he has the bowl in his hands.  He takes his crackers out of the wrapper and does what I’ve suggested, before beginning to shovel the food in his face, eagerly.  I feel a twinge pierce my stomach.  I know how hungry he must be.  Hungrier than I am because I know how to handle small bits of food, but he doesn’t.  Again, I need to be a little more compassionate, and I think about all the ways I can start to be as I begin to eat my own dinner.

“Sho..wur’d you learn all that?”r32;

He says it, his mouth stuffed with food, and I slowly meet his gaze.  “What?”

He swallows, smirks a little, and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.  “You know...how to make a fire like that.”

“Oh...boot camp.”

“Really?”  He takes a moment to guzzle some of his water.  “You were like...GI Jane or something?”

I laugh.  “Not quite.”

He shrugs.  “Well, you know your shit, that’s for sure.  You’re saving our asses, Fiona.”

“It’s my job.  Are you finished with your food?”

He stares into my eyes for another few moments, like he’s questioning me, trying to figure out if I really hate him or not.  “Just about.”

“Scrape your plate clean.  You need every bit of that, Justin.”

He does it, silently, even licks his bowl clean, but it’s what I want him to do.  

“Thanks.”  He whispers, when he finishes, and hands me the bowl back.

I nod, take it, and put it down next to me.  “Give me a minute to finish my food, and I’ll put the tea on.”

“Sure.”

“Here.”  I neglect my food for a moment, and reach across, pull his blankets tighter around his shoulders.  “Keep them that way.”

He nods, and draws them closer to himself before gazing into the fire.

Finally, at peace, after a very trying day.  I down my food, savoring every last bite, thanking Michael silently, for bringing me the fire tonight, and asking him to help me with all the ones I’ll need to build in the coming days.  

Funny, when he was alive, I didn’t rely on him nearly this much.  Maybe it’s why he felt compelled to make all those missions, go overseas on volunteer retreats, because I made him feel like I could handle everything by myself.

I guess...I must have pushed him away, more than anything else.

After all, our marriage was in trouble right before he left.  If nothing happened to him, if he came home safe to us, I really don’t know if we would still be together.

But at least he’d be alive.
**********
All right, I’m a jerk.  But I’m scared, and I hate being scared in front of a stranger.  I’m way too private for that.  I trained myself, years ago, to be bold in front of people like her, to be strong.  Right now, I’m caving in, showing her how much I really do need her.  I wish Trace was here, so I could feel a little bit more like myself.  But he’s not here, and fuck, I shouldn’t wish this on him anyway.  He’s warm and safe up at the cabin with his girl, and by now, he’s probably wonder what the hell happened to me, and if I’m even alive at this point.

But I am alive.

I’m alive, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to die here in the mountains with a strange, GI Jane type by my side.

“Here, maybe this will help you sleep better tonight.”

She tosses me an emergency weather radio, and I catch it, making sure to give her a thankful smile.  “You’re a lifesaver.”

“It just needs one or two cranks, and it should last the night.”

I do it quickly, eager to hear something else besides the wind howling.  I hear static soon enough, and smile, as I begin to tune out a station.  Of course it’s hard.  We’re in the middle of nowhere, but soon enough I hear a faint voice, and I pause, tweaking the dial slightly from left to right, and then it’s clear.  But it’s not music, it’s news.  More crap about the economy, death and destruction.  “I might as well turn it off.”

“At least it’s something.”  She encourages me, as she takes another sip of her tea.  I finished mine a while ago, don’t savor things as much as she does, and I guess I should start.  She hasn’t complained though, and I know she expects that kind of thing from me.  Fuck, I was so hungry...I just couldn’t help but devour all my food, and the tea warmed me up so much I practically drank it in one gulp.  I asked for another cup of course, but Fiona told me we couldn’t afford it.  Since she started the fire, I’ve learned that she’s a lot more than just some stupid flight attendant, and I need to treat her that way.

I can’t complain anymore, if possible, and that’s why I didn’t complain about the tea.

Maybe tomorrow night I’ll eat and drink a little slower.  Try to make it last longer so it will bring me comfort as well as nourishment.

Tomorrow night...

I guess I already know help isn’t going to come before then.

“Some breaking news just in...it was reported to us just moments ago that renowned pop superstar Justin Timberlake went missing in the Colorado Rockies as early as yesterday evening, due to a downed jet.  The wreckage showed up on military radar early this morning, according to sources, but the cause of the crash is not known at this time.  Authorities tell us air recovery operations and foot search parties have been compiled to arrive at the scene of the newly located wreckage, but storms in the area have been preventing any type of search from getting underway.  The Grammy award winning artist was believed to be headed to Vail, Colorado for a weekend getaway.  Only the flight crew and himself are known to have been on board.  We will update you with up to the minute details, of course, as they come in...”

I stare at the radio for a few moments as a series of commercials begin to play, not being able to believe I just heard it all.  My name, wreckage, and search party were just used in the same sentence...fucking weird.  But it means...it means they know we’re down, and from the sound of it, they’ve already spotted the wreck and are trying to get to us.  “They’re trying to get to us!” I tell her, excitedly.  “They know where we are!”

“That’s the news,” she sighs.  “You can’t believe everything...”r32;

“But there’s a search party!”

“Justin, they tell the media differently so they wont’ start a panic, but I know how search and rescue teams operate.  They probably think we all died in that wreck.”

I look at the ground, and lick my lips.  They’re dry and chapped.  “You can’t believe that.”

“It’s the truth.  It was really bad, Justin.  We’re lucky we made it out alive.”

“But...but they’ll have to realize that we aren’t there.”

“I know that, but they have to get to the scene, first.  It’s going to take some time.  You can’t get excited yet.  We still have to keep moving.”

“We can’t go anywhere,” I tell her, desperately.  “They’ll never find us.”

“Would you rather have a bear or a pack of wolves find us first?”

I bit my bottom lip, trying so hard to hold back the sobs that are trying to force themselves out.  Damn it, I don’t want to be emotional.  I’m never like this.  I can’t even remember the last time I cried, but right now...right now I’m so scared that I know it won’t take much more to make me hysterical.  “I just want to go home, Fiona.”

“I know you do, and I do too, but staying put and letting the animals know we’re here isn’t any better, Justin.  I need you to be with me on this...just follow my lead, and we’ll make it, we’ll get home, I promise.”

“How can you promise me that?  You don’t even know...where we are...”

“I can figure out where we are,” she tells me, seriously.  “I know how.”

I rub my face with my hands, and immediately it all starts to hit me.  My mom.  My mom must be having a cardiac arrest.  She must be on a flight to Vail right now, on her way to Trace, who probably told her to stay put.  She never would, though.  She’ll do what she has do to get to me.  Trace’s mom probably came up as well, to make sure her best friend won’t start flipping out on the search and rescue people.

I hope they can hold it all together, keep believing I’m alive...but I know the minute they realize there isn’t a body...none of them will let the search and rescue people stop trying to find us.  

“Have some.”

I look up and find that she’s trying to pass me a bottle of brandy.  The cap is off, which means she already had some, but I know...I can’t.  Jesus, my therapist would flip a shit if she ever knew.  “I...I don’t drink,” I say it, and my voice sounds shaken, and weak.  I’m more terrified now that I was before, and I guess I shouldn’t have listened to the radio after all.

“It will keep your core temperature where it needs to be over night.  You have to.”

She screws the cap back on and tosses it in my lap.

“I told you that I can’t.”

She sighs.  “I understand that you’re...a recovering alcoholic.  I read the tabloids in line at the grocery store just like anybody else.  But right now, you have to do this, Justin.  I’m sorry.  It’s only going to help keep you alive.”

I actually whimper this time as I pick it up, not believing that I’ve stayed off the shit for so long, only to have it come down to this.  I got off of it to keep myself from dying, and now...I have to get back on it to make sure I don’t.  “This is fucking crazy.”

“Just do it.  A couple of sips, and then I’ll hide it so you can’t go looking for it again tonight.”

I finally listen after a couple more minutes of serious debate with myself.  The bottle touches my lips and I’m reminded of so much, and when the liquor collides with my taste buds, I remember even more.  Telling my mom to fuck off, that I hated her, telling my best friend he was a worthless piece of shit, pushing my cousin to the ground...treating Jess like shit every single day...nearly being disowned by them all.  I swallow the liquid, feel it burning as it goes down my throat, hearing that little voice inside thanking me for bringing it some comfort...that I need to have some more.

I throw the bottle back at her.  “No more.” I sobbing now.  “I can’t do it again.”

She sighs heavily, and after a moment, I feel her beside me, giving me a comforting rub on the back.  “You’re okay.”

I shake my head roughly and rub my face with my hands.  “You don’t understand...the things...I did to people....I made promises...”

“I’ll only make you have more if it’s absolutely necessary, okay?”

“Make sure I can’t find it.”

“I will.”

When I look up again she’s not at my side anymore, she’s taken her old spot by the fire, and the bottle has vanished.  She kept her word.  “I...today,” I sigh harshly.  “I was a jerk, earlier.  I’m sorry.”

“More like an asshole,” she chuckles.  “But I guess I can forgive you.”

“If I knew about your kid...”

“Don’t.”  She looks down, picks up a thicker branch and begins to poke it around in the fire.  “It’s really...not something we should be talking about.”

I nod slightly.  I really do...still feel like shit.  If there was anything I could do, I would do it for her, because she deserves it.  I’ve realized she’s not such a bad person, now that I’ve been sitting here with her for all this time. Outside of this, at home, I bet she’s real cool, somebody I’d like to spend my time with.  She’s not effected by much, and neither am I, under normal circumstances.  “Whatever you need...once we’re home, I’ll make sure you get it, Fiona.”

She shakes her head.  “It’s not your responsibility.  I’ll take my normal tip, and that’s all.”

“Do you really think I’m going to let you do that...now?”

She shrugs.  “I can handle it.  The hospital will work with me on the payment as long as I have something.”

“But I want to...”r32;
“Justin!”

I stare at her.

“I don’t need someone like you to rescue me, okay? Just...forget it.”  

“I’m not trying to rescue you,” I scoff.  “Your kid is dying.”

“She’s not dying! Fuck!”  She jumps to her feet, and starts to breath heavily.

All I can do is stare.

“She’s...she’s not dying.  She’s just sick, and...she needs a heart, that’s all.”

I know I’ve hit a rough spot.  It’s something her doctors have probably tried to tell her, lovingly, for as long as her daughter has been sick.  She won’t accept it though.  She probably thinks there’s always something else, just one more thing, that can get her daughter through, keep her alive.

But I know how bad it’s gotten.  I can tell, just by the way she’s acting.  

“Fiona...”

“I’m not talking about it anymore...God, I wish I never said anything at all, but you were being so damn impossible that I didn’t have a choice.”

“I told you I was sorry.”

“I know that,” she mutters, and begins to gather up all of the cooking material and food containers.  “It’s fine, Justin.  Forget about it.”

“Look...I...”

“Justin, I’m not here to be your friend,” she snaps, before I can finish.  “The captain is dead, so that passes the leadership onto me, and it’s my responsibility to make sure you get to safety.  That’s all.  There’s no...bond...there’s nothing else to say.  I have my issues, and you have yours.  Lets leave it at that, and keep this professional.”

“I don’t get how you can expect that, when it’s just us out here.  What, is that some kind of flight attendant law?”  He rolled his eyes. “You can’t be friends with someone else?”
 
“I choose not to be.”

“That makes sense.” I cross my arms, and watch her as she gathers the last of the supplies, and begins to throw snow on our fire to put it out. “I might as well do this on my own then.”

“Do you think you can survive on your own?” She questions, her eyes wide.  “Be my guest.  I guarantee you can’t even figure out which way is north.  You wouldn’t survive a day without my help.”

“I didn’t say I could do it on my own,” I snap at her.  “I wouldn’t want to.  But you’re doing your best to push me away right now.  There’s no reason for it.”

“I have plenty of reasons.”  

The last flame sputters out, and she buries the branch pile in a heap of snow, before holding her hand out to me.  “Let’s get inside.”

I take it, and let her help me up.  We walk over to the tent, and get inside of it.  She lets me keep the radio, tells me to keep it on so I can be comforted as I fall asleep.  News, normally, is something I try to avoid, because it causes so much havoc in my life, but right now, hearing about the rest of the world is making me feel a little bit better.

It tells me that I’m not completely alone, despite how horrible this whole thing is.

“Here, lay down, and I’ll bundle you up for the night.”

She’s giving me a comforting, professional smile, and I know she’s putting our little argument, and her daughter, to the back of her mind so I’ll be calm.  That’s all she wants, what she knows I need, and it’s so damn selfless.  

I wish I could be more like that.

Maybe, if I make it out of this alive, I will be, too.

I lay down for her, and just like the night before, she piles blankets on top of me, and tells me to close my eyes as she tucks them around my body.  She settles the radio by my head after she's done, and keeps it low enough where I can still hear it, but won’t be disturbed in my sleep.  

“Here.”  She has me take a few sips of water.  “If you have to pee, just go in your clothes.  It will help your body heat, anyway.”

It’s gross, but I know she has a point.  “Thanks.”

“Goodnight, Justin.”

“Night.”

She turns her back to me, and goes to get herself settled for the night.  I watch her for awhile, partially keeping my attention on the radio in case of an update, but one doesn’t come.  They keep repeating the same story we heard during dinner, and i do my best to tune it out.  She glances back at me from time to time, probably to see if I’ve fallen asleep.

I know she’s doing it, because she has plans after I’ve gone to sleep.  There’s still things she isn’t telling me, that she wants to keep from me.  I know it’s for my sanity too, but I wish she would keep me in the loop.  I might be able to help, give my input, even if she doesn’t think it will make a difference.

So I decide to fake it, and try to find out what she’s up to.

It takes a long time.  I can still feel her eyes on me even though mine are closed, and I do my best to breath deeply and evenly, to trick her into my plot.  Soon enough, I hear the crinkling of paper, and I know she’s finally bought it.  My eyes open a crack, but I don’t make a sound.  She’s sitting there with a large map spread out on her lap, holding a flashlight up so she can see it.  It has to be a map of the area, and now I get what she said about knowing how to find out where we are.  She’s drawing lots of lines with a pencil, shaking her head from time to time, and erasing.

She’s trying to make a route, and that means she’s going to want us to walk...how far, I don’t know.

But I don’t like it.  The farther we walk the harder it will be for them to find us, and the thought of the emergency hand link pops into my brain again.

Is it broken or not?

I get my answer soon enough.  She silently slips something out of her pack.  It’s a handheld radio, a red one, which means it has to be the emergency hand link.

And it’s snapped in half.

Damn it.

That’s it.

I sit up, and she gasps when she sees me.  I caught her off guard, and she knows it.  “So when were you going to tell me about that?”

She narrows her eyes at me.  “Go to bed.”

“No,” I say it gruffly.  “You should have told me.”

“What difference does it make?”  She drops it down onto her blankets.  “It’s broken...smashed...now you know! Now you’re probably going to panic, which was exactly why I didn’t tell you, okay?  Just forget about it...I’m trying to see if I can fix it.  I did some military engineering while I was in basic training.”

“Maybe you should have told me before.”  I yank my broken cell phone out of the inner lining of my North Face, and toss it at her.  “I could have given you that...maybe you can use it for parts or something.”

She stares at it, and I know...it’s made some kind of difference, even if it’s small.  “Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

“I just don’t want you panicking, Justin.”

“I’m beyond that, don’t you think?”

She shrugs.  “I don’t know what to think.  I’m just trying to get you home.”

I sigh.  “If we don’t start working together, Fiona, we’re not going to get anywhere.”

She doesn’t say anything else to me, so I decide to lay down, and pass out for real.

Just before my eyes close I think I can hear her weeping, but then again, there are tears on my face too.

I drift off that way, crying myself to sleep, but I’m thankful for it.

Just thankful to be alive.

My stomach hurts.  The kind of hurt where I’m all tight and bound up inside.

I know what I need to do.

My eyes drift open, and I rub my face harshly once I remove them from underneath the blankets.  Then, I sit up.  I have a lot of energy right now, and that’s thanks to her...thanks to the fire she built last night and the decent meal we had.  My eyes float to her.  She’s fast asleep, hopefully dreaming about some place warm and safe, instead of this fuckin’ wasteland.

I need to go to the bathroom, but I won’t wake her.

She deserves sleep, because I know she didn’t turn in for hours after I passed out for real.  My eavesdropping couldn’t have helped things, and to be honest, I wish I never found out about the radio.  It’s made me more tense, desperate, and I guess I feel foolish now.  Fiona was hiding the truth from me to protect me, but I just couldn’t handle that.  I had to know everything.

I’m paying for it now, of course, and I’ve decided to stop asking her questions...just let her do her thing, because she’s gotten me so much farther than I would have gotten on my own.

I’d be dead right now, if it wasn’t for her.

Slowly and silently, I pull the blankets off of myself, and get up from the floor of the tent, carefully tiptoeing around her so I can go outside.  It’s not so bad this morning.  The wind is still blowing, but the snow has calmed to a faint drizzle.  It could be a lull in the storm, or the it may have passed.  I pray the answer is number two, that the search and rescue team will be able to get underway today.  When I get back to the tent, I’ll listen to the news and see if there are any updates.

I want to go home.

I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

I find a good spot, between the side of a mountain, and a few trees, and I slowly remove my snowsuit and  my thermal bottoms.  It’s fucking freezing, and I feel like my shit is going to freeze midway to the ground as I squat down.  It’s disgusting, I feel like a caveman or something, but hell, I gotta go.

Then it happens, mid squat.  A huge explosion echos in the distance, and I fall over, my ass and thighs immediately beginning to burn because of the freezing cold snow I’ve landed in.  I try to scramble to my feet but I keep tripping over my thermals and the snowsuit that is down around my ankles, falling back into the snow.

My teeth start to chatter.  Fuck.

I know this can only mean one thing.   

The jet has finally succumbed to the elements, and the gas has pushed it’s way out of the tank.  Now, our wreck sight is officially destroyed, Joe’s body too, and I take a minute, squeeze my eyes shut as I think about his wife and kids.  They were married a long time, and he has three girls in college.

I feel like it’s my fault...but I can’t...I can’t dwell on it right now.

There will be time for that later.  Right now, I have to get up, out of this snow before I get hypothermia or something.  

But it’s too late for that.

The ground beneath me starts to rumble, and when I look up, I’m just in time to see it all falling down the mountain..massive amounts of snow.

An avalanche.  The explosion caused it, and now it’s headed straight for me.  I scramble, try to get out of the way, but my feet keep slipping, my pants keep tripping me up around the ankles, and I can’t do it in time.

Then I’m surrounded, completely, in a white, icy world.  It takes me a few seconds to comprehend it, catch my breath, and shove a big mound of snow off of my chest.  Thank God I didn’t get knocked out, but it doesn’t matter.

I’m buried, and when I start to push up, I find that it’s useless.  There’s so much snow, I’m packed right into the ground.

Holy Christ.

“Fiona!” I scream it, but my voice seems to bounce right back against me.

She can’t hear me.  She’s fast asleep, and I’m buried under too much snow.

I’m as good as dead, and I will be...very soon.  The air in here isn’t going to last.  I’m enclosed in a very small space that I can’t dig my way out of.  The minute I start clawing at the snow surrounding me, more of it starts to cave in.  If I push any more...I know I’m done for.

I’m trapped.

Trapped when the storm has finally cleared, when the helicopters could possibly fly right over us today.

I was so close.

One massive dump is costing me everything.  Jesus.  It would be a lot more hilarious if it wasn’t such a desperate situation.  Still, I find that I can’t contain my laughter, because it’s just so uncanny.  It’s a crazy, insane laugh, and I know I’m losing it.

Then my body starts to tremble, because I’m still half naked, and I know that I’m losing more than just my sanity.

I could be dead within hours and Fiona will never know unless she wakes up.

The first tears glide down my face, and I start to think about every significant thing that’s ever happened to me, embracing those moments so tightly to me, because they’re all I have and all I want to remember before I die.

My eyes close, and I fall into a deep, desperate sleep, hoping I’ll pass away just like this, at peace, and without pain.

“Justin!”

My eyes snap open, and I don’t know how long it’s been, but the light in here is a little brighter now, and I feel a slight breeze above me.  I look up, and I can see a crack of sunlight at the top of the mound I’ve been buried under.  Somebody has been digging to get to me.

Fiona.

r32;“Hey! I’m down here!” I yell and it sounds horrible, sick, and weak.  I cough harshly, can’t stop for several minutes.

I’ve been asleep for too long, and I know how much my body temp must have dropped.

I’m getting sick, and I know that’s not a good thing.  I do my best to try and get my thermals up all the way around my legs and ass, but it’s hard to move.  My legs are trapped under another mound of snow, that if I try to clear, I’ll be a goner.  It’s caused the entire bottom half of my body to go numb...

Frostbite, in its infancy.

How much worse can this whole thing get?

A lot worse.

“Are you okay? Can you move?”

“I’m okay, just really cold.  But if I try to move, the snow will cave in on me!”

More snow clears away from up above and then I see her come into view...Fiona.  The light behind her makes her look eerily angelic, and it’s the very first time I’ve ever focused on her features.  Brown hair that’s long, and messy of course, but not in a ratty way.  The elements have made the end of her pony tail curl up, making it playful and bouncy.  She has these eyes too...kind, gentle ones that offset her rough personality.  The color of them is this crazy mixture of hazel and brown that makes them impossible to avoid.  Their beauty is the kind you can get lost in, and then...when she smiles, she turns into this breathtaking, beautiful woman...

I shouldn’t be thinking this way.  Maybe I’m just delirious.

But I can’t stop myself from smiling, just a little.

“It’ll take a...a while,” she says, trying to keep her voice calm, and composed for me.

I know how bad this must look from her point of view.

“Please don’t let me die,” I whimper.  “Fiona...please...”

“Just try to stay calm, okay?” She says it gently, that motherly compassion taking over her expression briefly before she turns serious again.

I just nod.

”There’s a lot of snow...but I’ll dig through what I can and then I’ll toss the rope down and try to get you out.  Don’t fall asleep, all right?  Your lips are all blue, Justin...God, why couldn’t you just wait for me?”

I let out a sad little laugh.  “I had to take a dump.”r32;

“Seriously? You’re joking around?”

I shrug.  “Why not?”

She’s silent.  “Don’t move, I’m going to dig some more.”

I listen, and stare up through the hole as it gets wider and wider.  I don’t know how she’s doing it, but she’s certainly making a lot of progress, clearing the snow just the right way so none of it will cave in on me.  Once again, she’s the reason I’m not dead.

I seriously have to repay this girl if we make it home.

“Drink this!”

She tosses it down to me.

The brandy.

Fucking, Christ.  “Fiona...”

“Damn it Justin.” Her face pops back into the hole, and I find that her cheeks are all red.  She’s out of breath too. “We can’t afford to do this right now.  It’s necessary, so just...suck it up and drink.”

I know she’s right.  My life is at stake right now, so I just reach out with my gloved hand and take the bottle, twist the cap off, and take several gulps of the liquor.  Immediately, I start to feel that warm sensation rushing through me, and the feeling in my legs starts to come back a little bit.

If I make it home, and don’t turn back into a raging alcoholic, it’ll be a damn miracle.

“I think you might be able to crawl out,” she calls down to me after digging for a while more.  “Start slowly, and I’ll try to pull you up the best that I can.”

The rope drops down, and lands in my lap.  I stare at it, knowing that I’m going to have to do most of the work.  While Fiona is strong, I know she can’t haul me out of this hole all by herself.  I start to shift my legs around, and wince when some snow starts to fall in through the hole, but Fiona isn’t phased.  She must have cleared enough out of the way to allow me to move around, and so, I push harder, and eventually, I free my legs.  They’re freezing still, but the brandy has allowed the blood to keep circulating.  I know, if I try my very hardest, I can get out of this.  So I do my best to pull my thermals and snow suit up, and then I clutch the rope and start to grip the sides of the hole with my boots.  I hear her grunting and groaning as she tries to support my weight, and it takes hours.  I fall down to the bottom several times, and we have to stop a lot too so I can catch my breath after a fit of coughs and wheezes.  Then...then when I feel like the situation is completely hopeless, I get another surge of adrenaline, and I reach the top portion of the hole several minutes later.  I can see a little bit of the outside world again.  The breeze sweeps across my face, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, despite that the skin on my face is raw and chafed after spending hours trapped in a snow mound.

“Take my hand.” She lays chest side down and leans her upper body down into the hole, reaching down for me.

I grab onto it, feeling the tears on my face now, and squeeze it for comfort.  “I don’t know...” I pause and have to cough some more.  “I don’t know if you can pull me up.”

“I’ll pull you up, Justin.  I promise.”

The look of determination in her eyes is so intense, that I can’t say anything else.  She’s not giving up, that’s obvious, and I have to believe in her, if I want to live another day.  I grit my teeth and push upward as she pulls me in the same direction.  She groans, and even screams a little, as she pulls me up with all of her strength.

I flop over the top of the hole suddenly, and I know it’s a fucking miracle.  She quickly pulls me out of harms way, back on top of the solid, frozen earth again.  I lay there what seems like forever, coughing harshly, gasping for a breath as I gaze up at the dull sky, letting the snow fall down onto my face.

I’m alive.

I’m alive, but I know, my body has seriously started to deteriorate.  That was too much for me to take, after everything else.

If I don’t get help, warm shelter and real food soon...I know I’m not going to last.  I’m weaker, so much weaker than her.  

I’m not cut out for this, and that’s so scary, but...but I if I have to die here, I feel comforted knowing that it will be by Fiona’s side.

She’s my salvation now.  My everything.

“Justin?”

She’s there, right there, looming above me, smiling softly because she knows we did it.

For the first time, we really worked together, and achieved the impossible.

She grips my hand and I hold it tightly, lacing my gloved fingers through hers.

I start to cry too, because I realize I don’t ever want to let her go.

Even if we make it home.

Nightfall.  Our third one since we crashed.  I shoved a chocolate bar in my face along with some beef jerkey, and made sure Justin got some food in his system too, despite how horrible he felt.  Still, it’s important that his body got that nourishment.  Without energy, I know, something devastating could happen to him.

And he doesn’t deserve that.  Sure, he’s annoying, can be whiney, but he’s a human being with a life.

A life that he deserves to go back to.

“I have frost...frost bite...I can’t feel anything.”

“It’s not frost bite.”

“Then...what...what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it.  Just breathe...you’re okay, Justin.  I know you can barely feel anything below your belly button right now, but you’ll be okay.  I promise you’ll be okay.  Lie still and let your body warm up.”  

He continues to cough harshly, and sobs, as I continue to stroke the exposed part of his face, gently.

He’s lucky.  He’s lucky I was awake.

Fucking idiot

I don’t know what time he decided to get up, but he didn’t bother to wake me on his way out of the tent.  It was early, the alarm on my watch hadn’t even gone off yet.  He says he had to use the bathroom...the other thing, not number one, and in the middle of doing his business...that’s when the explosion went off.

That’s when I woke up too.

It was the plane, and I guess now...I’m thankful we got away, but at the same time, I know how close Justin came to being killed today.

Even though we’re a few miles from the wreck, the vibrations caused by the explosion surged through the area like at tidal wave, causing the snow to shift around from places up high in the mountains, and as Justin was trying to get his clothes back on, that’s when it happened.  A small avalanche pummeled him to the ground, and buried him alive.  If I hadn’t been standing outside the tent, getting my bearings, I probably wouldn’t have known anything happened to him.  I’m a pretty sound sleeper.

It took me a good hour, to even break the surface of that mound, and I’m scared for him.  He told me that his legs and most of his rear were exposed to the snow during the time he spent down in that hole.  He has hypothermia, there’s no question about it, because he’s so numb, and his body is trembling.  It’s going to get worse the longer we’re stuck out here.  It’ll be too much for me to treat with a simple first aid kit, but of course, I haven’t let him know how desperate his condition is.  Instead, I’ve done my best to warm him up using the chemical heat packs in my first aid kit, sticking one to the side of his neck and one just above his groin.  It was weird for him, I know it was, but I maintained my professionalism...even though...his body wasn’t all that bad to look at.

I guess I understand Cassidy’s infatuation a little more now.

I’m losing my mind, too.

I had to strip him down out of his clothes anyway.  They were soaked to the core, right through to his boxers, and I knew he would be better off without them on.  To compensate, I dug all the clothes out of both of our packs, and created a makeshift robe for him with some of them, covering him up with every single blanket we have available.  I wrapped one around his head too, only leaving his face exposed, like I was trained to in the Marines.  He’s dry now, and that’s good, but I know he’s still freezing.  I’ve been giving him hot water to try and regulate his core temperature, since caffeine is out and the brandy is gone.  I’ve had to use three bottles of our water so far.  We have eight left.  Really, I wish I could have melted snow instead, but I didn’t want to take any chances with bacteria.  

I’m glad I thought enough to start conserving water last night.

He continues to cough and wheeze, and I know...despite all of my efforts, he’s still chilled to the core.

“Fiona...” He whimpers.

“Shh.”  I stroke his face again.

“I’m...I’m so cold...”

If this continues, I...God...I don’t know if he’ll make it through another freezing, bitter cold night.

There’s one final thing I know I can do that will help.  It will really help, get him through the night, I know it will, but Jesus...I really don’t know if I can do it.

But I have to do it.  I’ll lose him otherwise, and really...I think I’ve started to like the guy a little.  He’s not so bad, just scared, but he’s kind of funny, now that I think about it.

Funny in an adorable sort of way. The kind of way that makes you want to just...wrestle with him, lie on the floor with him for hours.  In the right situation, I think I might be able to talk to him...about everything on my mind, and he’d be able to listen to me.  He’s a listener, I can tell.

I don’t know if I understand how I feel about him, now that I think about it.  I mean, I don’t hate him, or dislike him, like I did in the beginning.  I feel like we could be friends.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to be friends, with anybody.

“If I...if I start to slip away, will you stay here with me?” he whispers.  

I sigh.

That’s it.

“Stop being so dramatic.  You’re not slipping away.  You’ll make it.”  I straighten myself, and then, I start to strip my clothes off, having to take deep even breaths the whole time so I don’t lose my professional demeanor.

“Fiona.”

I pull off my boots, being careful not to disturb the splint.  Then come the pants, my layers of sweaters, and then, finally, my bra and panties.  I’m fully exposed now, but I hold my head high, because this is what I have to do, to ensure his survival.  “What.”

“You’re naked.”

“I know.”

I quickly go over to where he’s been laid out on the floor of the tent, and lift up his blankets, so I can get underneath with him.  I wrap my arms around him and press my body up against his, so our skin is touching, trying my best not to knock my legs into his privates.  Sharing body heat...it’s a classic remedy for hypothermia, even though it’s awkward as hell.

Cassidy would have a cardiac if she knew.

“That’s...” He has to stop and starts coughing for a while.  “That’s the easiest I’ve ever gotten a woman in bed.”

“You’re not making this easier.”

He clears his throat. “Sorry.”

“Lie still, and try to rest.”  I reach out from underneath the covers quickly, for the weather radio that’s lying beside us, and pull it back inside our cocoon.  I turn it on, trying to seek comfort in the sounds of the news, hoping it will make us both forget about our sudden naked embrace here in the tent.  

“...sources have reported that the downed jet known to have been carrying the pop superstar, was found charred and burned beyond repair earlier today.  A search of the wreckage produced the remains of the jet’s captain, Joe Sarowski, a fifteen year veteran of airline business.  The other two passengers known to be on board the aircraft, flight attendant Fiona Carmicale of Long Island, New York, as well as Justin Timberlake himself, have not yet been recovered.  Authorities remain optimistic, that the two have sought refuge elsewhere in the mountains, and a foot and air search has finally gotten underway after two and a half days of blizzard like conditions.”

John Yalzone, head of the Colorado Rescue League, had this to say in a press conference today.

“We believe the two missing passengers to be alive at this point.  Miss Carmicale is a seasoned Marine Corps veteran, with years of skill and experience behind her.  We feel she has sought refuge at higher ground, out of harms way, with Mr. Timberlake, and we will exhaust all of our options and work around the clock, before we make the decision to call off our search.”

I switch off the radio, because I can’t bear to hear anymore.

“Oorah.” He laughs, and coughs.

“Idiot.”

“You think they’ll find us?”

“I hope so.”

He stares at me, his blue eyes regaining some of their light, and I know he’s starting to warm up a little more, even though his teeth are still chattering.  “Marines huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think chicks went into the Marines.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“I admire that,” he smirks.  “You’re a tough lady.  Your husband must be proud.”

I stare at him for a few moments.  Of course he thinks I’m married.  I still wear my gold wedding band, even though it’s been years, and Michael was long gone from my life even before he died.  “I don’t have a husband.”

“What about the ring?”

I look away from him the best I can.  “Habit.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t really talk about it...with anybody.”

“I’d say this situation is awkward enough to call for the spilling of our deepest secrets.” He laughs and coughs harshly again.

“You go first then.”

“All right...” He trails off, coughs some more, and then starts to speak again.  “You wanna know why I started having a drinking problem?”

“Sure.”

“I presented a demo to my label and they told me it sucked.”

I give him a confused glance.  “Really?”

He laughs.  “Stupid right? Now that I look back on it, I know it was but...music, it’s always been a big part of me, and...I was so successful all the other times.  I guess it did something to me, when they told me that.  It changed me.  I would sit down after that and try to revamp the demo and I couldn’t.  It depressed the hell out of me so...I just started partying all the time, taking stupid movie rolls to keep my money coming in, and drinking my free time away.  I fucked up a lot of things, almost lost the people closest to me.  It seems so silly now, but it took a lot to wake me up.”

“Do you think you’ll go back to music after this?”

He chuckles, so softly.  “I think I have enough inspiration to last me a lifetime, now.”

“I always liked that one song...Summer Love,” I smirk and laugh a little more.  “It always took the chaos out of my day.”

“That right there,” he croaks.  “Is why I love music.  It touches people.  You can’t do that with a movie.”

I nod.

“So now it’s your turn.”

“I met Michael in basic,” I begin.  “We hit it off from right from the start, I guess.  We got married and I got pregnant after a year. I had to discharge from the Marine Corps, but I was a sergeant, and halfway to going into special Ops.  I would have done well, I think.”

“Do you regret it?”r32;

“I don’t regret having Mackenzie.”r32;

“But getting married?”

I don’t look him in the eyes as I shrug my shoulders.  “Sometimes.”

“Where is he now?”

“He passed away.”

He stares at me for a moment.  “Sorry...”

“No...it’s...it was a few years ago.  He was in Iraq on a volunteer mission, and a roadside bomb wiped out his entire group.  It was really sudden.  I dont think Kenz has ever really recovered from it, but I do what I can to help her remember her father.”

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Have you recovered?”

“I...” I pause and sigh.  “Our marriage wasn’t going that well, when he deployed.  If he came home, I think we would have gotten a divorce, but...but I’ll always love him, you know? When things were good...I think I was the happiest I’ve ever been.  I admit, I do my best not to think about him.”

“But now she’s sick...Mackenzie.”

I nod.  “She has a rare bacteria infection in her heart.  She’s on the list for a new one.  When Michael died I started doing these flights, and it took care of us, until she started to get really bad.  I just...I’ve been struggling a lot the last few months, you know? She’s had so many surgeries and procedures I can’t make ends meet anymore.  This flight...was supposed to ensure her transplant, even though I wouldn’t have gotten all the money I needed for it. Now...now...I...I dont’ know if...”

“Fi.”

I feel the tears on my face, and I can’t help but let out a small whimper.  He’s staring me in the eyes, stronger now, and I guess this was the right move...laying like this with him, even though I can’t make sense of it, or of our emotions.  

“We’ll get home and she’ll get what she needs,” he says seriously.  “You can’t talk me out of it now.  You’re the reason I’m not buried ass deep in the snow, frozen to death.”

“I don’t like to let people help me, Justin.”

He smirks.  “Yeah, I’ve been getting that vibe from you.”

I smirk too, close my eyes as I let the warmth from our bodies take over me.

And then I feel it, the touch of his lips to my forehead.  My eyes snap open, and I gasp a little.  He’s pulled the blanket off of his head, and is lying on his side now, embracing me tighter to his chest.  “Justin...put that back on...Jesus.”

He shakes his head.  “I don’t need it now.”

“You do...you don’t realize that...”

“Shh.”  He presses a finger to my lips.  “I feel a little better, just...let me do this.  It’s helping.”

I sigh harshly.

“That’s your problem.  You need to let people help you sometimes, Fi.  You can’t always be the saving grace.”

“I’ve always been this way.  My sister says I’m the most stubborn person ever to grace man kind.”

He shrugs.  “Maybe it’s time for a change.”

“Maybe.”

He kisses my forehead again, and draws me closer to his naked body.  “Close your eyes.”

“Justin...”r32;

“C’mon,” he flashes me a sleepy, worn out smile.  “Relax for a while.  There’s nothing stopping you.  This is the only thing we can do right now.”

He’s stroking my hair, and face, gazing into my eyes and smiling gently, willing me to relax.  It’s the most comfort I’ve had in a really, really long time, makes me want to break down and cry, and I hate that.  I hate that I’m seeing past his fear now, that he’s allowing himself to break down and reveal how he can really be outside of a nightmare like this.  “I guess I could have subbed for your date this weekend, huh?”

He laughs and coughs.  “Man, I almost forgot about that.  You know, in a way, it’s almost better this way.  My best friend...Trace, he would have been giving me shit all weekend if this didn’t happen.”

“But at least we’d both be safe.”

“True.”

Silence.

“Fiona.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d really like to be friends...when we get out of this.”

I’m silent.  “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get out of this Justin.”

“The usual chaos and media circus.  I’m used to it.”

“But I’m not.”

“Still.” He smoothes a few strands of hair back behind my ear.  “I’d like to try.”

I shrug.  Really, I don’t know what else to tell him, because no matter what, if we get home, our lives are going to be completely different from the way they are right now.  “I can’t make you any promises.”

“But you’ll try.”

I suck in a breath.  “Yeah.  I’ll try.”

He smiles, and his eyes close.  “Deal.”

That’s when I hear it, and when Justin opens his eyes and stares at me, I know he can hear it too.

Helicopter blades.  Distant...but getting closer. 

Salvation.

Hell, are we saved? And if the answer is yes, will I really be able to keep my promise to him?

It's too much to think about at a time like this.

“Fuck...Jesus...”

She pulls away from me, and doesn’t hesitate to tuck the covers all around my body before she yanks some clothes on.  

I stare at her, at a loss for words.

Are we saved?

She darts to the tent opening and throws it aside.  I don’t move.  I can’t.  I know if I’m exposed to any amount of the bitter cold, even for a few moments, all the work Fiona did to regulate my temp will have been for nothing.  It takes several gut wrenching moments of staring at the tent flap, before she reemerges, looking grim.

“What? What is it?” I sit up just slightly and cough again.  My chest is aching, and I know that’s bad.  It means my cold is going into my chest...which can lead into my lungs.

I know I’m getting worse every minute we’re stuck here.

“I don’t see anything.  I just hear them, but there’s no light or anything.  I wish we could radio...but I’ve tried to use that cell phone to fix the hand link.  It just..doesn’t work.”

I nod a little.  “At least...at least you tried.”

The helicopter blades draw closer still, like the thing is right on top of us, and we both freeze.

“What the fuck are they doing?” I mutter, and cough harshly again.  It’s a deep, hacking cough this time.  

She opens the flap again, and this time, there’s a difference.  The night has been suddenly lit up by a brilliant spotlight.  They must have discovered our tent.  There’s no other explanation.  “Fi?”

“They’ve...they’ve seen us!” She calls back to me.  “They’re getting closer!”

“Fuck yes!”

I cough and it makes me stop cheering.  It lasts so much longer this time.  So much that I have to lean back again, and catch my breath.

She frowns.

We both know I need a hospital.

“Hang on,” she says, soothingly.  “Just hang on for me.”

I nod, and a moment later she’s standing over me, forcing me to lay back down again.  The helicopter is right there, right outside, and I know...I know this means I might wake up in the warm comfort of a hospital bed.  I’ll see my mom, my best friends again...

I’ll get to go back to my life.

I’ll get that second chance, and fuck, I will never take my life for granted again.  I’m going to live, I’m going to treasure every moment, no matter how insignificant.

I’m going to make a record.

I have to make a record.  I have to tour.  I have to let that part of me live again, too.  I think...I’ve missed it, more than I realized, and when I let it slip away from me, I lost a part of myself.  It’s why I turned to the alcohol.  It was a comfort.

A comfort that I’ll never rely on again.

It takes just moments, before two men burst through the tent flap. They’re dressed in red and white snow gear, gigantic first aid kits slung over their shoulders, and I know they’re part of that rescue team we heard about on the radio.

My head hits the soft blankets underneath me again.

We’re saved.

“I’m fine...” I hear Fiona’s voice come after a moment.  “I’m fine just...just take care of him.”

Naturally, her first thought is for me.  It’s always been, from the moment I stepped out of the little cart on the tarmac that night.  She’s selfless, even though I know she’s dehydrated, half starved, and freezing as much as I am.  

“Justin.”  One of the men crouches down next to me and starts to shine a flashlight in my eyes.  “Justin, can you hear me?”

I nod.  “Fiona,” I rasp.

Then she’s there, looking down on me while the other man continues to fuss with a tiny cut just above her eyebrow.  She can’t seem to stop staring at me, and she won’t let her small smile fade away as the other medic begins to insert an IV into my arm.  

“It’s okay,” she nods.  “You’re okay now.”

“He needs to be airlifted to the hospital,” the medic speaks up after carefully examining my chest with a stethoscope.  “The fluid has gotten into his lungs.  We’ll only have room for one in the chopper with a stretcher.  Miss Carmicale, you’ll have to head back with the rescue force.  Do you think you can handle that?”

“Yes...”

“No!”  I shake my head roughly, and try to sit up, but I’m gently forced back down by the medic.  “No! She has to come...she has to come with us!”

“Justin it’s fine.” She crouches down, and gently strokes my face.  “You need to see a doctor.  I’ll be right behind you.”

I feel my bottom lip trembling, and damn it, I hate it so much, but I know...I know I’m on the very brink of my sanity right now.  I need her.  I need her to just...be next to me, reassure me that everything will be okay.  I can’t make it without her.  “Please, Fiona.”

“You have to go.” She nods, and I know how hard she’s trying to hold back her tears from me.  “You have to, Justin.”

“Will...will you end up at the same hospital as me?”

“I...yes...”

She doesn’t really know.

And that means that there’s a possibility that we won’t see each other again after today.

I don’t know if I can handle that, and so, I reach out desperately for her hand, which she gives me.  “I need you in my life, Fi,” I whisper.  “I...I know it’s only been a few days, but I know that I do.  I don’t want to lose you.”

“Miss Carmicale,” the medic speaks up.  “We need to get him out.”

She kisses my forehead then, so desperately, knowing...just knowing, that this could be the last time she sees me for a very long time.

Fuck...damn it.  Why?

“I’ll...I’ll come see you, Justin.  Even if we’re separated.  I promise.”

I squeeze her hand.  “I don’t want to go with them,” I whisper.  “I want to...stay with you.”

“You have to.”  She forces a small smile.  “You know you have to, and so do I.  Please do it, and don’t be stubborn about it.  Promise me.”

“I...I promise.”

She nods, and then steps aside, letting the other medic in so they can start to prepare me for the flight.  They have some fresh clothing for me, and help me change into it, before I’m moved to a stretcher, covered with new, thicker blankets, and strapped down so I can’t fall off the thing.  Something begins to pump into my veins, giving me energy, calming me down, and it helps me to relax some more as I’m carried out of the tent, back into the black, bitter cold night.  The helicopter is there, on the ground, waiting for me to board, and I look all around as I’m carried up a small ramp that leads into it.  For seconds only, I’m able to catch a glimpse of her, sitting on the back of some kind of snow mobile, finally being examined properly by somebody.

She’ll be okay.  We’ll both be okay, but that doesn’t mean things are going the way we both hoped.

She’s the reason I’m alive.  I owe her everything, and I want to be there for her.

But I know how my life works, what will happen the second I’m able to see my parents, my friends, and family again.  I’ll be smothered, and then the work will start, overwhelming me to the point where I won’t be able to think straight.

Fiona will just...be pushed to the back of my mind.

I won’t have time to search for her, and with her daughter the way she is, I know Fiona won’t have time to come see me either.

It’s not fair.

But that’s life, and I need to be thankful that I still have mine.

It’s the last thing I think about as the medics get me into the helicopter, and secure my stretcher in place.  I cough a lot, start to feel even worse, and one of the medics prepares shot, tells me it will help me rest until we get to the hospital.  I don’t try to fight it off.  I know Fiona wouldn’t want me to, and I promised her I wouldn’t be stubborn.  I let them stick me, and after a few minutes, when we’re airborne, my mind starts to get all fuzzy.  I feel warm, and safe, and relaxed.

And it’s only then, that I’m able to fall asleep.
*******************
“Where’d she end up?”

“They brought her to a clinic over in the next county.  Doctor Flannigan came to me this morning and wanted us to know that she broke her ankle, and developed a slight case of the flu, but that was the extent of her injuries.”

“Well, you tell them that I want to talk to her.  It’s ridiculous.  She should have gotten the same treatment as Justin, after everything she did.”

“Well, they said there was only so much room...”

“That’s not good enough, Paul.  You know it’s not.  They could have brought her here.”

“Lynn, the point is, Justin is here with us.  He’s safe, and once the doctors take care of him, he’ll be back to normal. That’s all we could have asked for.  We’re lucky things didn’t go the other way.”

“They would have gone the other way, if it wasn’t for the things she did.  I want somebody to get that girl over here, and into a private room with her own nurse.  She’s in a hole in the wall clinic for crying out loud, and she saved our son’s life.  I won’t stand for it Paul! I won’t!”

My eyes drift open, slowly.  Everything is throbbing, aching, and my chest is tight, my throat is dry. There are tubes everywhere, in my arms, up my nose, and I feel like I’ll never be able to sit up, or do anything else for that matter, ever again.  It’s hit me all at once, the crash, all the crap that my body endured out there in the elements for all those days.  I guess I was able to suck it up for a while there, but now, pampered and spoiled with heat and a comfortable bed, my body is letting loose, allowing me to be weak and helpless.

I guess because I’m safe.

My eyes float toward the voices.  My mom and dad are there of course, right by my bedside.  It feels good to see them again, and I’m sure when they realize I’m finally awake, my mom will get a little emotional and my dad will shove his hands in his pockets and ask me how I’m doing.  Normal.  

I’m so glad that I’m able to be with them again.

“Mom.”

She gasps, and stops freaking out on my dad for two seconds so she can look over at me.  “Oh...Justin.”  

She leans in and wraps her arms around me tenderly, and I immediately return the embrace, burying my face between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her familiar perfume, and it gets me to smile wider than I have in days.  “It’s good to see you, momma.”

She pulls back and sniffles back her emotions.  She hates getting teary eyed in front of me.  “It’s good to see you too, baby.”

“How you doing, son?” My father smirks slightly and shoves his hands in his pockets.

I should feel great, normal, be asking when I can see my friends...go the fuck home.  But I don’t feel that way.

Because I know she isn’t here, and I won’t be seeing her anytime soon.  

“I...ache, everywhere,” I laugh, and cough a little.  It doesn’t hurt as much now, and I know I’m slightly better than I was before we were rescued.  “Has it been long?”

“You slept all day yesterday,” my mom tells me, with a small smile as she strokes my forehead and face.  “You had hypothermia, and you still have pneumonia.  You’ll be here about a week, and I don’t want to hear that you’ve been trying to get out of bed, you hear?”

I chuckle softly.  “Yes ma’am.”

She nods.  “Trace and Sam said they’ll come in a while.  We had them stay away yesterday.  There’s been too much press outside, you know?”

I roll my eyes.  “Christ.”

“We’re handling it, son,” my dad reassures me.  “Nobody is going to get in here.  Eric and Tiny flew up from Miami, and they’re handling the mob.”

“You mean they cut their vacation short?  I’m going to get pulverized.”

“Well, your momma got on the phone with them,” my dad smiles.

“Momma...”

“Don’t momma me.” She crosses her arms stubbornly, like I always do.  “There was a crisis going on.  We couldn’t afford to be without their help.  A little overtime won’t kill them.”

I shake my head.

“I don’t want you to worry about a thing.”  She leans down and kisses my cheek.  “Just relax.  Do you need anything?”

“I guess some water would be good.”

She nods and pats my hand.  “I’ll send a nurse to get some for you then.  We’ll see you a little later, all right?”

I see her glance at my dad, and I know they’re about to take their argument outside.

But I want answers before that can happen.

“Is she...Fiona...is she okay?”

She nods gently.  “She’ll be okay.  We’re going to try to get her in here instead of where she is now, aren’t we Paul?”

He sighs.  I know how he is.  He wants to keep the focus on us, not on someone who he considers a complete stranger.  He’s so used to people trying to invade my life, our families life, that he’s cautious about who is welcomed into it.  But, Fiona is harmless. She doesn’t care who I am.  She never has.  

“Yeah, I guess we are.”  He smiles, but it’s forced.

I scoff a bit.  “She won’t come.”

My mom shakes her head.  “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know how she is.” I don’t look at her as I say it.  “She doesn’t want help from anyone.”

“Well that’s just silly.  I want to meet the girl who saved your life, and that’s final.”

And I know she won’t back down, because she never has, my entire life.  “Then...go ahead and try.  I’d like to see her too.”

“I’ll let you know,” she smiles.  “Should I call Trace and tell him to come?”

I shrug.  “I guess so.”

“See you later baby.”  She kisses me one more time, and walks out of the room.

My dad sighs, and shakes my hand.  “Good to have you back, son.”  He gives me a tight lipped smile, before he follows my mother out of the room too.

Then I’m alone again.  All alone in this hospital room, and I realize I have no clue what’s even going on outside, back home, or with my friends.  I know I need Trace to come, to reassure me, to listen to all the crazy shit that I’ve been through.  Maybe I can talk to him about Fiona, about the strange, fucked up way I’ve come to feel about her.  it's an emotional feeling...like I need her so bad.  Maybe it’s just a phase...

But deep down I know it’s not.  I know it’s more than that.

A nurse brings me in some water, and after I drink half of it, I doze off for a while.  When I wake up again, I hear the soft blaring of the television, and when I glance to my left, I see Trace sitting next to the bed, smirking at the show he’s watching.  “Hey faggot.”

He immediately looks over, and flashes me his infamous, playful grin.  “Hey asshole.”

I laugh, and do my best to sit up without wincing.  “When did you get here?”

“Like an hour ago.  Your mom practically begged me to come.  Sam was tired, so I left her back at the cabin, but she’ll be by tomorrow.”

“She must like...hate me for ruining her weekend getaway.”

“Nah, she’s just glad you’re okay.”

It’s quiet for a while.  He flicks the TV off, and we sit there, in awkward silence.  Nothing this crazy has ever happened to either one of us.  Sure, Trace fell off his bike when we were kids and fractured his elbow, and I’ve had my share of broken bones and stupid accidents in the past.

But neither one of us has ever come so close to death.

It’s gotta be weird for him to deal with it, because he’s not the most emotional person, and neither am I.

“So you’re trapped here for a week, huh?”

I sigh.  “That’s what they told my mom, and you know how she is.”

“Oh, do I ever.”

We laugh.

“Justin I...” He pauses, sighs, and runs a hand through his scraggly hair.  “I’m glad you made it.  For a while...I didn’t know what to think, and I felt like...you couldn’t have survived a crash like that.”

“I didn’t think I was going to.  I wouldn’t have...but...”

“Yeah, her.” He nods.  “I heard.”

I laugh.  “I’m asleep one day and all I’m hearing about is how wonderful Fiona is.  My mom wants to steal her away and get her a room here.  It’s crazy.  She’s never like that.  Is Fiona the media spectacle of the moment?”

He lets out a long breath.  “You have no idea.”

My smile fades to nothing.  Naturally, they can’t get to me, so they’re bombarding Fiona, because she doesn’t have anybody around to push them away from her.  “What’s going on?”

“She’s been all over the news, Justin.  They took footage of her going into the clinic she was taken to...cameras were shoved in her face, the whole nine, but she hasn't said much, just that she's thankful it's all over.  They can’t get answers from you so they went to the next best person.  Paul’s told your mom and so have I...it’s a bad idea to bring her here.  You know how they are.  They’ll twist things around and make it look like you’re hung up on this girl.  Right now, you don’t need that.”

I lick my lips, and glance out the window.  It’s wrong.  It’s not her fault.  We crashed and she did what she had to do, what she was trained to do, and now she’s dealing with all the bullshit on her own.  “She deserves to be left alone, or at least shielded from the press, don’t you think?”r32;

He shrugs.  “I hate the press.  So do you.  Why would you want to draw more attention to yourself right now? I mean, I’m really thankful that she helped you, I am, and when this whole thing blows over, I’d definitely like to meet her.  But right now, you need to get through this, and hell, I want to hang out and let Sam get to know you better. Let Fiona deal with the press for now.”

“That’s a little selfish.”

He laughs.  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“She saved my life, that’s all.”

“Yeah but...I mean, you guys were up there alone for a few days, right?”

“Oh come on.”

“Well hey...I mean, stranger things have happened,” he smirks.  “And I know your type.  She’s not bad looking, J, and after Jess...hell, I’d be hurting for a rebound too.”

“Fuck that.  Nothing...nothing happened.”  

“Whatever you say.  I’ll get the truth from you eventually.”  He’s laughing as he gets up, and turns back to me before he heads to the door.  “I’ll come back in the morning, with Sam.  We have some news.”

I give him a weird look.  “News?”

“In the morning.”

“You’re not leaving me wondering all night.  Are you marrying the girl or something?”

“Eventually.”

His eyes have a playful little spark inside of them.

“Trace?”

“Well she...she’s pregnant,” he smiles.  “We just found out last week.  Two months.”

My mouth hangs open slightly.  “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, and rubs the back of his neck.  “Fuckin crazy right?”

I’m happy for him.  I really am.  The last time I saw the two of them together, they seemed so happy, so in love, and I was glad he had finally found somebody a little more low key who wouldn’t bring so much drama into his life.  Now, a kid, and everyone knows that Trace has always wanted to be a father.  Me? Not so much.  I’m too busy...

I mean, Trace is busy too...but he’s different.  He’ll drop everything if it means he’ll be able to have a family.  He’s come close so many times, been shot down too many times, to pass it up now.  “Well shit.  Congrats, man.”

“Yeah.”

He’s silent again.  There’s more he’s not telling me, I know there is, and if things had gone differently when I got on that plane three days ago, I would already know everything he intended on telling me. “What is it?”

He sighs, and sits down again.  “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this right now.  I mean...crazy shit happened and you’re recovering.  It can wait, you know?”

“I’m not dead,” I laugh.  “Not yet at least.  I’ll have to see what Eric and Tiny do to me for cutting their vacay short.”

“Somehow I think they’ll forgive you for this one.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, Justin...” he sighs.  “I have a real chance with Sam, you know?  I love her.  We’ll probably get married once the baby is a couple of months old and...we’ve talked about certain things.  I want to be around for them, always.  I can’t...I can’t really take a lot of business trips anymore for our thing, as much as I’d love to.  The baby has to come first.”

I know what it means.  He’s backing down, not going to work as much.  It’s not like he’s hurting for money.  He’s invested in my franchise for so many years, and in other things too, allowed his financial portfolio to grow and made tens of millions of dollars.  He can settle down now, without regret, keep making money off his investments in Southern Hospitality and William Rast, run the line from Los Angeles, but as far as helping me run the behind the scenes operations of my career goes...he’s done with all of that.  Rachael is my personal assistant of course, took that spot from him a long time ago, but Trace is the financial wiz, the operational one, who always makes sure everything we decide to put our money into, makes an impact.

He’s half the reason I’ve lasted so long in the business.

Now I’m going to lose most of that part of him.  It’s finally happened, but I knew it would one day.  Everybody who knows us has always said, he would be the first one to settle down.

They were right.

“I get it. You know I get it, Trace.  I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“Maybe that’s just the morphine talking,” he laughs

“No...really.” I force a smile for him, because it’s the right thing to do.  “I’m okay with it.”

“You’d tell me, right?”

I narrow my eyes at him.  “C’mon man.”

“Fine...fine, then we’re all good.  I have a bunch of people I’ve been considering to take over for me.  I’ll run them by you and your mom when you finally get out of this bed.  We’ll figure it out, I promise...before the baby is born.”

“Right.”

“So I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah...yeah you know I’ll be here.”

He smiles once more for me.  “It’s great to see you man.  I’m really...glad...it all worked out for the best.”

“Me too.”

We slap hands, and he leaves.  It’s only then that I’m able to let out the huge breath I was holding in.  Fuck, that was a lot to take...after everything else, but I know I could have prevented it.  It’s my fault for pushing him into telling me, but I guess it wouldn’t have mattered if he told me today, or tomorrow, or when I was able to fly home again.  The only thing that really matters now, is how I’m going to get a handle on my career without him once I get back to my life.  

But I can barely think about all of it right now.  Too much has happened, and the only thing I can really focus on, is how Fiona is doing, and if she’s going to be able to get her daughter the help she needs before it’s too late.

That part, I know, is something I can control.  So I reach over, and pick up the phone, dialing my lawyers number from memory...determined to do the one thing that will make us even, and repay her for her sacrifices.

Even if she doesn’t want me to.

“Seriously, how cold was it?”

I shrug, open up Words With Friends and squint at the screen.

Joshua Chasez played ‘stereotypical’ for 1000 points.

I hate this game.

“Justin.”

I glance up at her.  She’s smirking at me, and I try to do the same, but I fail.  I don’t want to talk about it with her, but she’s so damn determined.  Everybody is.  They play it off like I went on this great adventure,  like my life was never in any real danger.

But it was.  They don’t realize how close I came to death.  That if we’d been stuck up there for another couple of days, the hypothermia would have sucked my life away.  Of course, I don’t let on to my real feelings.  Don’t tell them that sometimes, I’ll wake up from a horrible nightmare about the swirling white snow,  drowning me, taking me away from her.  I can’t, and so I just force a laugh, and pretend it really is a big old joke.

It’s easier for me.

“I froze my balls off.”

She laughs.

I don’t know why I agreed to dinner.  Maybe it’s because we wrapped yesterday.  Maybe I’m just lonely.  Maybe I’m just so damn...confused about what I should do this weekend.  I know...I know the right thing to do would be to take that ride, pay my respects and make sure she hasn’t gone over the edge. My mom would agree.  She was shocked when she found out the news, felt horrible, and said that I should at least go pay her a visit despite Fiona’s efforts to push me away.  She understands, my mom.  She knows it was a weird, difficult situation, and that Fiona just wanted to get on with her life.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not still angry with her.

I never would have walked away like she did.

“You should let it go,” Trace told me yesterday.  “Send a card or something.  You already missed the funeral, so why backtrack now?”

I love the guy to death but he’s never been very compassionate when it comes to strangers.

“Maybe...you should come back to my place tonight.  We could have some more wine...talk?”

A sly smile takes over her expression, and I have to admit, under normal circumstances I would definitely take advantage of the situation. It’s no secret that we’ve kept our feelings for each other under wraps, so we could finish this movie without any drama.  Now it’s over though.  Now’s my chance to pull her to me and have that one night stand that we’ve both been dreaming about from the beginning.

But if I do that, there’s no way I can take that ride to Long Island tomorrow, and it sucks, but I know if I miss this...if I’m not there for her, I’ll never forgive myself, even if I am angry at her.

“I...I really can’t,” I sigh.  “I have to be somewhere tomorrow, early.”

Her smile fades. “Oh.”

“Sorry, Ash.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you, Justin.”  She gets up from the table and rests her hand on my shoulder, giving me a pleasing smile.  “I guess...I’m just glad you’re okay.  See you at the premiere?”

I nod.  I know we won’t go out again after tonight. “Yeah, sure.”

She leans down and kisses my cheek.  “Good luck.”

She saunters away from the table.  I stare after her, my heart filled with regret.  Fuck, that was my one chance.  When I tell Trace, he’ll probably lecture me for fifteen minutes because I let an opportunity like that pass me by.  I’m single, and I’ve been that way for far too long.  I know it’s time for me to start getting out there, dating again, before I lock myself in the studio and go back to not having a life.

But I just...I just can’t think about dating right now.  Not when something so devastating has happened to the person who saved my life.

I spent that full week in the hospital, only finding out about what happened to the little girl a couple of days after Fiona walked out on me.  My mom gave me the news, her eyes filled with tears, and I didn’t know what to think. It was fucking devastating, after I promised her it would all work out...that I would get her daughter what she so desperately needed.  I followed through too, kept my word...

And the kid still died.

I still don’t know what to make of it.  It doesn’t make sense.  She was supposed to get better, because Fiona had already lost her husband.  Now she’s all alone, but I know from experience that the world can be a fucked up place, that bad things happen to good people for not particular reason at all.  Joe is another example of that.  I sent the family flowers, got a thank you card.

It doesn’t even begin to make up for that loss.

Fiona doesn’t deserve this.  Not after everything she’s been through.  I kept thinking that she would be so hurt, so devastated, that she would push everybody around her away.  That’s how it started for me, then I found the bottle...

It hit me so hard that she could end up that way, washed up, without a single person who cared about her, and I wouldn’t let it happen to her.  I refused.

I think it’s the biggest reason why I’ve decided to go see her.  I did some hunting around before I got out of the hospital, put my lawyer to work.  He got me her address, and home phone number.  When I called, I didn’t speak to her though.  I spoke to her sister, Cassidy.  She was slightly surprised to hear from me, but she didn’t ask me a million questions like I thought she would.  She sounded so down, so depressed, and when I asked her about coming to see Fiona, she told me I could try but I probably wouldn’t get far.  

She told me her sister wouldn’t even talk to her anymore.

I knew that meant Fiona had shut herself away from the world, and was determined to keep things that way.  I said I’d like to help once I was out of the hospital, and my life was back in order again.  Cassidy welcomed me.  Told me anytime I wanted to drop by, she would be there to talk to me, even if her sister wouldn’t.

So I’m taking her up on the offer now that I’m ready.  I’m also considering making her a part of my career, if she’ll let me.  I’d possibly like her to fill in for Trace, because I think she would do a great job.  She’s organized, plans ahead, and is a great thinker.  That’s exactly the kind of person I need for the job, and I know, if she took it, it would help her concentrate on other things besides how depressed she is.  Of course she’ll never get over Mackenzie.  I would expect her to, but she deserves to be a little bit happier, and I think a challenging job like the one I’m about to offer her, would get her on the right track again.

God, I hope she says yes.  It’s not just about her...

I’m still not over her.

I need her too.  She gives me that reassurance, the one that picks me up, makes me forget about the drunken mess I used to be.  

She’s my inspiration, and if I can keep her close to me while I make this album...possibly the biggest album of my career, I’ll do it.

I recovered well, was out of the hospital on time, but when I got home my life was anything but relaxing.  I barely had a chance to get settled in, before I was back to work, filming nonstop.  They had to rush to meet our dead line since I missed all that time.  When I wasn’t filming, I was always, always on the phone.  The press was up my ass constantly.  Everybody wanted me to do an interview, be on their talk show...whatever.  Johnny said it was a good opportunity to get my name floating around again, since I told him I thought I was ready to go back into the studio, but...but I didn’t want to relive all of that, or tell them about Fiona.  She had the decency not to divulge details about what we went through, for my privacy's sake, so I decided to do the same.  Nobody has been happy about my tight lip of course.  My people would rather have the press talking about me, because there’s no such thing as bad press, but I’ve never been one to come out and talk to them willingly.

Aside from the structured media...the paparazzi have been getting their money’s worth too.

They’re everywhere, follow me down city blocks when I’m trying to go to lunch with a friend.  They take pictures of me when I’m eating, when I leave, when I go to my apartment, when I go to work.  It’s never ending, and it’s taken everything in me not to have a freak out and run one of them down.  I know better of course.  I’ve had my fair share of not so friendly run ins with photographers in the past, and I’d rather not have to deal with a lawsuit if I can help it.  So I just let them take their pictures, and try to get away from them as soon as possible.

I pay the bill, and walk the five blocks back to my apartment.  Thankfully, the photographers seemed to have called it a day.  None bombard me on my walk, and when I reach my building, the only person there to greet me is my doorman.  I tell him to have a nice night, and then I head inside, take the elevator up to my floor and let myself inside.  The cat arches its back and hisses at me the minute it sees me, and as always, I just laugh and tell it get lost.  It’s not my cat, it’s Jessica’s, but she has yet to come and claim the stupid thing.  I guess she’s busy...or something.  Still, I don’t try to get in touch with her to give it back.  Something about coming home to the cat comforts me.  It means I’m not completely alone here, even if the thing is temperamental as hell.

When I go back to LA though, I’ll have to decide what I’ll do with it.  My dogs wouldn’t like her, at all.  I guess I’ll have to break down, stop being so damn stubborn and call up Jess, as much as I don’t want to.  My mom would love that.  After all this time, and everything that’s happened, she’s still convinced that I’m going to marry that girl.

She’s so wrong though.

I change and check my answering machine for messages.  Naturally, there’s more than a dozen, almost every single one from press people and my management, urging me to do various interviews about the crash.  I delete them all, because I’ve already been emailed and texted about the same opportunities.  They just won’t stop.  They never stop.

Then I reach the last voicemail, and I press play, immediately cringing when I hear the voice blare out of the speaker.

“Hey J...it’s me...”

Jessica.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you, about my cat and about...things...but I guess your cell number changed.  I don’t blame you.  I know we didn't’ exactly end on the best terms.  I talked to your mom a couple of days ago, and she filled me in.  I just wanted you to know that...I’m glad you’re okay, and I’d like to see you when you come back to LA.  Your mom told me you were going back into the studio soon so...whenever you’re back in town, just give me a call.  You know the number.  I’ve...I’ve been doing some thinking about us, and I hope you’ll at least hear me out.  Talk to you soon.  I...love you.”

Click.

I stare at the machine and laugh.  Bitch.  She loves me? She doesn’t fucking love me.  She left me, high and dry, after I proposed, like our relationship didn’t even matter.

Why is she suddenly so interested in working things out? Is it because she feels guilty?

I have no idea.

I can’t even think about her right now, because I have to be prepared to face Fiona tomorrow.

That’s all that really matters, that’s what’s important...making sure she gets through this thing, because she got me through something catastrophic too, without a question, even though I was a jerk in the beginning.

I watch TV for a while, and the cat decides to join me, but keeps her distance, swishing her tail as she lays curled up at the end of the sofa.  I call it a night around nine, and get in bed, lying awake for the longest time, praying that tomorrow will go well.  That she’ll let me in, because she needs somebody...somebody that knows what it’s like to be in pain, and I know the feeling all too well.

It’s my turn to be strong for her.  I know it’s the only thing I can do, to repay her, now that her daughter is gone.  
************
“Fi.”

My eyes drift open, slowly.  My head hurts, it pounds, but that’s normal.  I roll over, on top of the empty bottle of wine that I downed last night. I groan, pulling it out from underneath me and tossing it to the floor.  “What...”

“C’mon.”

The curtains are yanked open and sunlight fills the room.  I pull a pillow over my head.  “Get out!”

The pillow is snatched away, and I roll over, glaring at my sister.  “What the hell? Cass...just leave me alone!”

“You’re not just going to lay around in the darkness day in and day out.” She puts her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes at me.  “Do you think this is what Kenz would want you to do?”

I don’t answer, just shift myself up slightly.  “I’ve told you before that I don’t want to talk about her.”

“What good is it doing?  What good will it do, continuing on like this? Shutting yourself away, feeling sorry for yourself? Blaming yourself, Fi? You can’t do this forever.”

Again, I don’t answer.  I never do anymore.  She pulls this a couple of times a week now, comes into my room and tries to get me to rejoin humanity.  But I have no desire to.  I have nothing left, and everything I do, say, touch, and feel, reminds me of my daughter.  It’s so painful, hurts my heart, creates this wild fire that travels down into my belly, and I can’t shake it off.  I cry myself to sleep, I cry when I wake up, and I’m in a daze whenever I’m not shut up in my bedroom.  The rest of the time I’m drinking, or sleeping.  I know I’ve fallen off the deep end, but that  was inevitable.

They told me that Kenz’s body had enough.  That she was too young and too weak to have as many procedures as she did, that her death was inevitable, even if she had gotten the transplant.  But I couldn’t believe that.  Everything inside of me told me that if I had just managed to get home to her sooner, she would still be alive.  It was my fault.  My fault for not getting help up in the mountains sooner than we did.  It was my fault for leaving her, my fault for not having enough money, my fault for squandering what we did have away on the wrong treatments.

She died, and it was my fault.

It will always be.

The truth is, behind closed doors, I’ve been looking into a couple of things.  The military seems like a good way to put an end to my suffering.  I can simply reenlist and lose myself in the order and discipline being in the Marines requires.  You sort of lose your identity when you enlist.  You have to live by their rules, act like they want you to act.  It makes you numb to everything else.  I think that’s what I need, just to be numb, to forget.

Maybe go, like Michael went.  Then I can be with her again, and nobody can say that I took my own life.  

It will be the perfect way to go.

I talked to my old recruiter.  He told me I wouldn’t need basic.  That he could have me on a flight out to Iraq in a week, if I really wanted to reenlist.  I would be a sergeant again, and once I proved myself, he told me that Special Ops would be interested in giving me a test run, just like before.

I have a couple of days to decide, but I know I’m going to do it.  Cassidy has no idea, of course, but I’d rather wait until the last minute to tell her.  That way, she can’t talk me out of going.

I can’t wait to leave all this shit behind, forever.

“Come on, get out of bed.  Wayne is here.”

“Like I care.”

“Give the guy a break, Fi.  He’s trying to help you.”

I sigh.  I don’t want to see him.  He’s always just dropping by, because he’s been after me for years, ever since Michael passed away.  It’s typical.  They were best friends, and I’m sure Michael made some kind of pact with him, that if something were ever to happen, he would step in and take care of me.  

But I don’t want to be taken care of.  I don’t care if he has a good job, and a good head on his shoulders. I don’t care that he’s ‘a nice guy’, and I don’t care if ‘he lost Kenz too’.  It wasn’t the same with them. Sure, he spent time with her, tried to be a father figure to her after Michael passed away, but...but he could never be her father.

I just wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“At least come and say hi.  He's been hanging around the house all day.”

“He'll get the hint, eventually.”

She tugs on my arm.  “You’re getting out of bed, and showering today.  You stink like booze, Fi.  It’s not good, okay? I’m really worried about you.”

I don’t know what she expects me to do. Hold my head high? Forget that my baby was dead once we buried her? It was a nice ceremony, yeah, and Wayne...he financed it, was there at my side as the priest made his speech, even let me cry against his chest, because I had nobody else.

But I was so out of it then.  I couldn’t help myself, and I feel bad now for using him, for making him think that I would ever need to rely on him for anything. I don’t.  I don’t need anybody, and I can get myself through this.  Right now I’m just...in mourning still, but I’ll get through it, be strong again...just like always.

It’s just taking a little bit longer.  I was able to get over Michael a little faster because I had Kenz to worry about.  Now I just...I know I’m alone.  It’s gut wrenching.  I miss her so much, and...and I wasn’t able to say goodbye the way I wanted to.  I wasn’t able to kiss her forehead, and tell her that momma loves her, the way I should have.  She died without me, with Wayne by her side and nobody else that cared about her.

I just feel like...I let her down, and I can’t ever change that.

“Fi, please?”

I sigh, and glance at her.  “Will you leave me the hell alone if I shower?”

“Maybe.”

I roll my eyes, and it takes couple of minutes, but I’m finally able to sit up all the way, and slide myself out of bed, rubbing my face and running my hands through my hair to straighten myself out and try to get my head to stop pounding.  When I stand up, I get a little dizzy, but my sister is right there to steady me.  

She cares so much.  Too much.  I want her to have her own life, and so, it’s another reason why I want to reenlist.

“Come on, one step at a time,” she whispers, and helps me to walk out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the bathroom.  

By the time we reach it, I’m able to steady myself a little better, but I can’t stop myself from vomiting into the toilet.  Luckily Cassidy is there to hold my hair out of my face and rub my back.  It makes me feel a little better, if nothing else.

“You can’t drink like that anymore,” she tells me, once I finish, and helps me strip out of my smelly pajamas.  “It’s gotten really bad, Fi.  I’ve never seen you like this.”

I shrug.

“Fi.”

She’s looking at me the way I used to look at her, when she was just a kid and I was trying to make sure she grew up right.  I set rules for her, and she hated them, but it was only because of those rules that she grew up into a decent person, got a good job, and is independent now.  “I...I’ll stop.”

She nods.  “I think you should talk to that shrink.”

I sigh, and step into the shower after she turns it on and lets the water run.  “I don’t need a shrink, Cass.  I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so sure.”

I just stare at her, and then she walks away from me, leaving me to my own devices.

When did the tables turn? When did I become the one who needed guidance?

Fuck, I’m a damn mess.  I gotta snap out of it, somehow, before my sister and Wayne take it upon themselves to cart me off to the crazy house.

The minute I let the water run over my head and body, I start to loosen up, start to feel a little bit better, and when I step out and wrap a towel around myself...I feel alive again.  It’s gross, but I haven’t been taking that many showers.  I just...haven’t been motivated enough.  Maybe I’ll start doing this every day again.  It’ll be good, and it will get me out of bed.  That’s important.  I need to build myself up again if I’m going to leave for Iraq.  

For the first time since Kenz was buried, I have a tiny goal.  It’s feels good.

I dress, fix my hair, and put the smallest touch of makeup on.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to get me through the day, and that’s what I need...to get through one day at a time.

Maybe I’m stronger than I thought.

“H-hey, Fiona.”

Wayne smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets when I walk out into the living room.  It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.  I’ve been so mean to him, it’s really not fair, because he’s never like that with me.  All he ever wants to do is make me feel better, and I don’t know why.  I don’t know why he cares, why he refuses to date anybody else hoping that I’ll give in and go to dinner with him for once.  I’d ask him, but honestly, I just don’t care.  “Hi, Wayne.”  I mutter, and walk into the kitchen, being able to feel my sisters eyes on me when I turn my back on the both of them.

I get myself a glass of water, and stand at the sink, gazing through the window out into the yard.  Kenz’s swing set is still there, strong as ever.  It’s newer, a gift from Wayne last summer.  Seeing it sitting there, vacant, makes my stomach lurch, because I know that no child will ever play on it again.

I turn back around, and lean against the counter.

Wayne, naturally, is standing there.

I sigh.

“You um...you doing okay today?”

I sip my water.  “I’m fine.”

“Maybe you want to talk a little today?” He steps closer to me, and flashes me a smile.  “I’ll take you to Chili's.  You like Chili's, right?”

Pathetic.  He has a nice smile though, and I hate that.

“No.”

“It’s just lunch.  There’s no harm in lunch.”

“I already said no.”  I finish my water, and put my glass in the sink.  Then I walk past him, slide the patio door open, and head out into the yard.

“Fi, come on...please?”

Why won’t he just stop?  Fuck, can’t he take a hint? I whirl around, cross my arms, and glare at him.  It gets him to stop in his tracks and stare at me.  “What, Wayne? What the hell do you want?”

“I just...”

“Do you think like...I’m going to just go to lunch and fall in love with your or some crazy shit?”

“I just thought we could talk...”

“Well I don't want to fucking talk to you, Wayne!  What don’t you get? I mean, I’ve done everything to make it crystal fucking clear that I don’t need you around!”

He doesn’t frown, just laughs at me.  He’s used to me treating him like shit though, because I always have, ever since he made it his mission to support me and Kenz.  Cassidy says he sticks around because  he likes a challenge.  I just think he has nothing better to do.  He’s a computer nerd, works from home,  runs his own business.    He doesn’t have a set schedule.  He can do whatever he wants, and right now, the only thing he wants to do, is pester the crap out of me.  

“You need a friend, Fi.  You have your sister but...I know you.  I know you need somebody else to talk to besides her. Look at yourself...you’re losing it.  All you do is lay in bed.  I want to get you out of the house, so you can start living again.  You deserve it.”

“I can do all of that without your help,” I mutter.  “In fact, you know, I wasn’t even going to say anything about my plans, but I feel like I don’t have a choice.”

“You’re trying to reenlist, right? I know...I heard.”

My breath catches in my throat, and I stare at him.  “How...how could you...”

“I was in the military too, Fiona,” he chuckles.  “I know the same people you do.”

Fuck.  I hate that he’s right.  I hate that...I hate that he’s probably still good friends with my recruiter, and all the guys that hang around down there.  He wasn’t Marines.  He was Airforce, a computer and radar tech, and was discharged the year before Michael died.  “Fine, so you know.”

“Do you really think you’ll pass your aptitude test?  Your psych evaluation?” He asks me, seriously.  “I mean, I know you won’t have to go to basic, but they still want to make sure you’re not...crazy.”

“I’m not crazy,” I grunt.

“You’re not ready to reenlist.”  He steps forward, a solemn expression on his face.  “C’mon Fi, you’re just trying to run away from everything...from us.  It wont help.  I would know, I’ve seen guys try to do it in the past.  It just makes things worse.”

“I’m not like them, and you it’s not for you to decide what I’m capable of.”

“All I’m asking you, is to give me a chance, Fiona,” he says gently, and reaches out so he can run his hand down my cheek.

Why I don’t stop him, I have no idea.

“I can take care of you...” He nods.  “I can help you, get you through this thing with Kenz.  Hell, I miss her too, we can get through it together.  I care about you, even if you think I’m just...doing this to fulfill some pact I made with Michael.  It’s not about that, you know? I’ve...I’ve always liked you, and when you...became available, I figured, what the hell?”

I roll my eyes.  “You’re pathetic.”

He shrugs.  “Maybe.  But I don’t want to be with anybody else.”

With that, he leans in, and presses his lips to mine, tenderly, and the only thing I can do when he pulls away, is stare at him, my mouth agape.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” he smirks.  “Maybe you’ll feel up to lunch then.”

“I...I...”

But he doesn’t stop walking away from me, and I feel so damn foolish.

I mean, Christ, Wayne Pryor?  Really?

Did I really just let him kiss me? Fuck, I did.  I should have slapped him, but my emotions wouldn’t let me.  Something inside of me sort of, paused, fluttered, and told me it was okay to let him.

But it’s not okay.  I can’t let him in.  I can’t let anybody in.

I sit down on the vacant swing, clutching the chains and swinging myself gently back and forth.  When I close my eyes, I can remember...Kenz’s laughter and smile as I would push her higher and higher.  Those were the good days.  The days before she had to live at the hospital.

God.

When I open my eyes, my vision is all blurry, because the tears are there again.  I can see somebody standing there, a man, and for a few moments I think it’s Wayne, back to fucking...propose or something.  But when I wipe the tears away, I quickly realize that I’m wrong.

It’s not who I expected at all.  In fact, it’s the last person I ever expected to see again.

“Hey.”

I stop swinging, and plant my feet firmly on the ground as I stare back at Justin.  It’s a different version of him, the one I saw on the plane before we crashed.  He has color in his cheeks, and looks like himself again...healthy and renewed, and I’m glad of course.

But I want him to leave.  Right now.

Of course the aftermath was hell.  Getting back home to bury my daughter was hard enough, without having to deal with the seventy five phone calls I would get every day from various members of the media.  People have offered me book deals, paid television testemionals, the whole nine yards, just to get inside Justin Timberlake’s iife a little more.  I hang up on them, tell them off, tell them to find somebody else to bother, because I would never sell him out.  He just...doesn’t deserve that.

I admit, I felt like shit that I pushed him away, walked away from him, but I felt like I didn’t have a choice.  He was too wrapped up in me, when he shouldn’t have been.  Sure, we got a little too close, but it was only out of necessity.  There’s no way I ever could have been intimate with him.  It just...wasn’t like me, and besides, our lives are entirely too different.  That’s why I didn’t want to try to build our friendship up.  I figured one of us would just get hurt in the end.

But now he’s here, rubbing it all in my face, and I just don’t understand.

“What...what are you doing here?”

“I um...I just wanted to see how you’ve been.  I heard about Kenz...I’m...I’m really, so sorry, Fiona.”

I nod gently.  “Thank you, but you didn’t have to come all the way out.”

“I’m only a half hour away, I have a place in the city. We just wrapped the movie so...”

“Oh.”  Right.  His career.  Naturally.  “How...how did it go?”

“I’m just glad it’s over with.  I think I’m done with movies for now.”

I nod.

“Fi.”

“I’m sorry I said...all of that, at the hospital,” I whisper, but don’t look at him.  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that but, I just wanted you to focus on your life, Justin.”

“Yeah I figured that much.  I mean, after I was able to stop being pissed off at you.”

After a moment, I feel him next to me, sitting on the second swing.  

“I’m not holding it against you or anything,” he continues.  “But I heard about what happened and I couldn’t live with myself, not knowing if you were going to be okay.”

I chuckle softly.  “I’ll make it.  I’ve made it through everything else.”

“This isn’t like everything else though.”

He’s right.  “I know.”

It’s quiet for a long time.  We just sit on the swings, letting the wind blow all around us, and I shiver slightly.  It reminds me of so much.  The snow capped mountains, the fact that we both could be dead right now if things went differently.

It hits me again, that I’m the reason he’s not dead, and I guess he’s the reason that I made it out of there with most of my sanity.

“I’m leaving for LA at the end of the week,” he speaks up finally.  “I’m going to make another record.  I won’t be back out here, probably until after the album is done.”

I look over at him, and feel myself smile.  I’m happy for him, I know...it’s the one thing that was holding him back, not being able to make his music.  Now, I know he’ll have plenty of inspiration and his label won’t have a reason to knock him down and make him feel like shit.  I’m proud of him, and I guess in a way, if we never met, he wouldn’t have been able to make this decision.  “That’s really great, Justin.  You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am...but...I feel like you’re just getting left behind.  I feel like you got fucked, in the worst way you could be.”

“I was, I guess.  But I’ll be fine.  I can handle it.”

“Your sister told me that you just...lie in bed in the dark all the time...”

I sigh heavily.  I can’t believe that she talked to him, that she told him personal shit about me, about what I’ve been going through.  I’ll kill her.  I really will.  “What else did she tell you?”

He lets out a long breath.  “She said you’ve been drinking...a lot.”

I shrug.

“I can’t let you do that.  I can’t leave for LA knowing that you’re like this.  I just...owe you that much.”

“Justin you did what you could, okay?” I get up from the swing and cross my arms.  “I told you before, just get over me.”

“I can’t.” He shakes his head.  “I want you to be okay, Fi.  I don’t care how hard you try, you’re not going to get rid of me.  I’m not that easy to push away, like everybody else in your life.  What are you even doing? Do you have a job lined up? Anything?”

I roll my eyes.  “I’ll figure it out...”

“You keep saying that but I feel like it’s a bunch of horse shit.  I’m not leaving here until I know for sure that you have some kind of plan in place for yourself.”

I laugh at him.  “Who are you now? My father?”

“I’m your friend,” he says gently.  “Even if you don’t want me to be.”

Damn, he just has to put it to me like that.  “I’m seeing somebody,” I lie.  Great, now I’m using Wayne as an escape from him.

That’s so wrong, but I feel like I have no other choice.

“Who, that chump that I passed on the way out here?”

I stare at him.  “He’s not...I mean...”

“Cassidy told me he’s just a friend,” he laughs.  “Fuck, why can’t you just be honest with me?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“You’re scared.  Just admit it.”

I start walking away from him, the tears forcing their way from behind my eyes and down my face.

“Look, I have a job for you, if you want it.”

What? Come on...really, right now?  I stop walking, and turn back to him, letting out a strong sigh.  “What are you talking about?”

“My business partner is going to have a kid, and so...he’s decided not to be as active with my career.  I mean, he’ll still be there, but not in the same aspect he was.  I need somebody to help me out with some things while I’m recording the record, and once we’re done, I’m going to need a tour manager.”

“You want me to be your assistant?” I laugh.  “Please...”

“Not my assistant.  I have one of those.  I just...I need somebody to work with my staff, look at my books, and make sure the business is running the way it’s supposed to be.  Then, you can come on tour and run the operational side of things.  I know you can do it, Fi.  You’re a fuckin’ genius.  There’s nobody I’d rather have doing this, and...maybe it will take your mind off of things.”

“Oh okay,” I smirk.  “So I’ll just pack my life up, kiss my memories goodbye and relocate to LA so I can continue to cater to your spoiled ass?”

He shakes his head.  “Come on, Fi.  Stop putting up your stupid defensive front.  What’s here for you? More opportunity to mope around, and be miserable?  The chance to get into a relationship with somebody I know you don’t really care about? You don’t deserve that.  You deserve a chance to live again.”

“And you’re the answer to all my problems, right Justin?”

“I’m just offering you an opportunity.  You can think it over, give it a week, and if you decide not to do this, I won’t be mad.   I just wanted to let you know that I care, and that there are other things out there for you.  Your life doesn’t have to be over.”

“She’s gone, Justin,” I sigh.  “My life is over.”

He presses his lips together.  “When are you going to let somebody talk to you about it?”

I shrug.  

He steps towards me.  “I’m willing.  Just like I’ve always been.”

“I know that, but I’m not ready.”

“I figured.  Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yeah...why?”

“I want you to have my number.”

I debate it for about five seconds.  If I say no, he’ll probably give up, just walk away, and if I say yes...I’m enabling him to call me, text me, harass me about getting myself together again.  I hate that but then...then I start to think about him.  The way he held me on that last night, for those few brief hours that we were naked under the blankets together.  I thought I was helping him, and...I was, but he really helped me too.  He helped me to calm down, and open up to him.  I hadn’t opened up to anybody in years, and I guess...I still don’t understand why he was able to get me to do it.  I’ve known Wayne forever, and I’ve never been that deep with him, about anything.

Justin and I seem to have this strange, deep attraction, that can’t be duplicated, even though I would never admit that to him.

So I pull out my phone, and hand it to him, so he can punch his number into it.

“Let me know, whatever you decide, okay?”  He presses the phone back into my hand, and smiles gently.  

“I can’t promise you anything.”

“I know.”  He leans in and plants a soft kiss on my cheek.  “But you’ll think about it.”

I nod.

“Friends?”

He’s sticking his hand out to me.  I guess, I never did give him a good answer to that.  I yelled at him at the hospital and left, but that wasn’t a real answer.  I was just angry.  Now my head is clearer, even though I’m still so fucking depressed.  “Yeah.  Friends.”  I shake his hand.

“Cool.  I’ll see you around.”

I let him walk away, and continue to stand there, dumbfounded about today, about what just happened, about the opportunity I’ve just been given.  It would be a new life, a new experience, that could take me all over the world, get my mind away from everything.  No I wouldn't forget my daughter, but I would be busy enough where I wouldn't have time to sit around and feel sorry for myself.

Most importantly though, I wouldn’t be forced into a relationship with Wayne, and if I stay, I know being with him is inevitable, because I have nobody else around besides my sister.  I’d fall for him, try to learn how to love him, and that’s not how I want my life to be.

I know my mind is made up, but I’ll let Timberlake sweat it out in the meantime, so he won't have an edge.

That’s what I did with Michael, after all, the first time he ever asked me out.

I know that means I have feelings for him, and that...that’s something I never counted on.