Ghosts
Prologue: Regret
by Tinkerbell
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with
Kevin Williamson or anyone else involved with Dawson's Creek. I am
merely a small-town college student who loves to write. Please do
not sue.
Category: This fic is a mixture
of categories; friendship, love, and tragedy but the main focus is on Pacey
and his relationship with Joey…so call it a Pacey/Joey fan fic.
Rating: R because it will have some
sex, nudity, unsuitable language and violence.
Spoilers: Anything from the show
so far (through "Self Reliance") could be used.
Summary: Everyone has read, seen
or at least heard of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol right? Well,
being the evil person that I am, I've taken this classic tale and put my
own spin on it using the characters of Dawson's Creek. The fic takes
place in 2020. The gang is in their late thirties and Pacey is, in
a sense, Scrooge. He has changed over the years due to events that
have happened in his life. Joey and the gang take up similar character
roles. The fic will take us on a journey through time as the ghosts,
each representing a different period of time, show Pacey the past, present
and what could be the future. But I promise that it will not
be the same old tale. Trust me, okay? J
Thank You's: To my beta's…I love
you gals and I honestly do not know what I would do without ya'll.
To Tinka for making the gorgeous banner. You rock girlie. To
all of my readers who continually email me about new fics and give me inspiration.
You all are the reason I write. And, last but not least, to Charles
Dickens for writing an incredible story.
Author's Note: To reduce confusion,
the present will be in regular script and the past will be italicized.
Feedback: You all know how much I
love to hear what you thought of my writing…even if you think it sucks.
Please send praise, comments and criticism to twill007@surfsouth.com
Times were not what they had
once been. This much Pacey Witter was sure of as he stood on the
hill, letting the frigid wind blow his coat out behind him. But he
didn't feel the cold because he was already numb on the inside. He
had no perception of time as he stood there, his feet buried in almost
an inch of snow. There were few pedestrians out in the park at this
time of night. It was his own place to roam…it was his graveyard.
Sighing, Pacey closed his eyes,
picturing the scenes that had transpired this night. His father's
voice floated out to him in the snowy darkness and he shivered.
"You can't keep living like this
son. You'll end up in a permanent hell of your own making…just like
me."
Pacey opened his eyes again
with a start. The night's events filled his mind and he wasn't sure
what to do. He wanted to run screaming down the streets of New York
but figured that no one would appreciate that kind of wake up call.
Not that he had cared for the last twelve years whether or not people appreciated
his actions. He was Pacey J. Witter, one of the richest men in the
country, and he took crap from no one. And look where it got you
he thought miserably. You've got nothing to bring joy to your life.
You have nothing to go home to. And it's your own fault.
The wind blew again and Pacey
watched as snowflakes fell on his gloved, outstretched, hands. It
was such a tiny object but held so sentimental a meaning.
"Pacey! Pacey no! Don't
throw it! Please! Pacey-AGH! That's it! You're
toast Witter! Prepare to die!"
Joey. The very name haunted
him. When was the last time he had allowed himself to think about
her? Or Dawson? Or Jack, Jen, Andie and all the rest of the
people that had once been such an integral part of his life? Pacey
could not recall.
Tonight had shown him how horrendous
his actions had been and what disastrous consequences they would have.
He couldn't take anymore. He'd seen enough pain and misery to last
him a lifetime. He regretted every single second of it that he had
caused. The only question now was how did he get back what he had
so violently pushed away?
prologue
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| epilogue
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