Pacey looked around, judging his surroundings.  The road was paved and slick with ice.  Snow covered the sides of the road as far as he could see and dead branches hung overhead, giving the place an eerie feel to it that Pacey did not like.  "Where the hell is this," he asked aloud.

 The wind picked up and Pacey shivered.  He was going to freeze his ass off standing out here…wherever here was.  "Hello?  HELLO?"

 His words echoed around him and he sighed.  "This must be the beginning of the rest of my torture," he muttered.  "Not that I don't deserve it.  I just thought that it would be something different."

 Clouds suddenly moved in and the moon was covered, leaving Pacey in almost complete darkness.  "This is just great," he exclaimed, kicking at a lump of snow.  "Just peachy."

 A hand touched his in the dark and he jumped, screaming.  "AAAAAHHHHHH!"

 The hand closed around his and started dragging him forward.

 "Leave me alone you crazy person," Pacey yelled, trying to break free.  Then he looked in front of him and stopped in his tracks.  The road ahead of them was glowing.  Pacey blinked then blinked again.  Still glowing.  "Oh.  My.  God."

 The hand holding his gripped tighter but said nothing.  Finally Pacey understood.  You're the ghost of Christmas yet to come."

 The hand squeezed his slightly harder.

 "Won't you speak to me?"

 Silence.

 They came to a clearing and the moon slightly came out from behind the clouds long enough for Pacey to get a look at who it was holding onto him.  The ghost was dressed in a black robe, head to toe, it's face covered.  His eyes widened.  "Whoa."

 The ghost stood there, its robe billowing around it in the wind.  It was waiting on him.

 "You have things to show me about the future, right?"

 The ghost nodded and pointed ahead of them.

 "I fear you the most of all," he confided, trembling slightly.

The ghost continued pointing straight ahead.

"You want me to go straight?"

 The ghost nodded.

 Pacey looked at the glowing road speculatively.  Then he shrugged.  "Okay."  He started walking up the road, trying to get a glimpse of who was under the robe, if anyone was, but he could see nothing but the endless black robe and the hole where the face should be.

 The ghost held up its hand and Pacey stopped.  Waving its arm the landscape on the edge of the horizon rushed towards him and Pacey's eyes widened.  "Holy cow."

 They were now standing in the middle of New York, in front of his office building.  The ghost pointed up.  Pacey nodded.  "Going up."

 The office was full of people.  The first thing Pacey noticed was that no one was working.
"Why is no one working?"

 The ghost pointed towards two male employees that he didn't even know.

 "You want me to go over there?"

 The ghost nodded.

 Pacey walked over to them and was surprised by their conversation.

 "Such a sad man," one commented.

 "I'm not sad he died," another added.

 "I didn't say that."

 "Can you imagine, someone having the nerve to break into his house and try to steal something?"

 The two men laughed.

 "I bet it was quite a sight to find the old geezer dead in his armchair when they went to take the television!"

 They cracked up again and Pacey shivered, disgusted.  "Who are they talking about," he asked aloud, looking around the office.  Then he saw Deana sitting in her desk chair, looking out the window.  He walked over to her and kneeled down next to the chair.  Observing the faces of the others in the room, Pacey thought it was a safe bet to say that she was the only one who was sad over the news.  She had a box on her desk and was packing her things.  She looked much older.

 "Where are you going Deana?  Don't leave!  I need you here!  You're the only one that I like!  The only one that gets the job done!  The only one that even cares about me!  Please don't go!"

 Deana brushed a tear off her cheek and began emptying her desk.  "Now what am I going to do," she whispered.

 Pacey noticed that everyone seemed to be clearing out.  "What the hell," he asked, confused.  "Why are all my employees leaving?"

 The ghost appeared next to him and waved its arm, sending them to another building.

  They were in a conference room with a bunch of business associates.

 "Top bid goes to Newton Networks," the man at the front said.  "The company is yours."

 "What are you going to do with it," a stout woman in a pink suit asked.

 "Break it up and sell it."

 "Serves the old bastard right," another one agreed.

 Pacey was even more confused now than he was before.  He turned to look at the ghost.  "Whose company are they selling off?  Why are they all so jolly and smug about it?"

 The ghost said nothing, merely waved its arm again and sent them to a dark room.  Looking around him, Pacey saw that the only thing left in the room was an armchair and a body bag stretched out on the floor.  "Yikes!"

 The ghost pointed towards the bag and Pacey stared at it, shocked.

 "You want me to unzip that body bag and look at who's on the inside of it?"

 The ghost nodded.  "Okay, NO way is that happening."

 The ghost pointed again, more forcefully.

 "I said no."

 The ghost pointed again, a gust of wind coming out of nowhere and hitting Pacey.

 "Okay, okay.  I'll look," he blurted.  "Just stop with the wind thing."  Pacey slowly placed one foot in front of the other, making his way over to the body.  Something inside his stomach was twisting and knotting and Pacey realized that he was afraid to see who was in the body bag.  Turning to look at the ghost, he saw that it was still pointing.  Taking a deep breath he reached out a shaking hand to unzip the bag.

 BANG!

 Pacey nearly jumped out of his skin as a window banged shut and footsteps sounded on the stairs.  Knowing that he couldn't be seen by now, Pacey stayed where he was, watching with growing horror as two young men came into the room.

 They stopped, looking at the body bag apprehensively.  Then they looked at each other.

 "Let's just get this damn chair so we can get out of here," the first one said nervously.  "I don't like being around stiffs."

 "Me either," the second one agreed.  "Especially one as vile as him!  Come on."

 Pacey watched in amazed horror as the two men did their job.

Picking up the armchair, they toted it over to a big window and opened it up, manhandling the chair out.  Then, taking one last look around, they slipped out the window and into the night.

Pacey stared as a pair of hands reached up and shut the window then disappeared.  "What the fuck is this world coming to," he muttered.

The ghost stood there, staring at him.

"Tell me ghost, is no one sad about this man's death?"

The ghost was silent.

Pacey felt that fear tugging in his belly again.  "Can you not show me some kind of grief associated with this man's death?"

The ghost waved its arm.

They were back in a place that Pacey had come to know well during the course of the night.  Deana's.

She was sitting on her couch with Jolie, drinking coffee.

"I'm so sorry Deana," Jolie commented.

"Yeah."

"And what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know."

Jolie frowned.  "You can't stay here D.  There are too many memories.  Plus, now that you lost your job you can’t afford to live here."

"I know," Deana said tearfully.  "But I can't stand to leave.  Tim l-liked it here so much."

"Maybe it would be better if you did," Jolie suggested.

Deana shook her head.  "No.  I'm having a hard enough time making it through the day now that Tim is dead.  This is where I feel him the most."

Jolie sighed and put an arm around her friend, unsure of what to say, knowing that nothing she could say would be of any comfort.

Pacey turned around, shocked.  "Tim really does die?  NO!  He can't die!"

The ghost just looked at him, silent as the grave.

"I ask you to show me compassion for the man that is dead and you s-show me this heartbreaking scene?"

The ghost waved its arm.

"But you didn't answer my question," Pacey exclaimed.  "How can I-" he stopped realizing that they were no longer at Deana's.  Instead they were in a graveyard.

"You've got to be kidding me," Pacey mumbled.

The ghost shook its head and pointed towards a grave as the fog swirled around its feet.

Pacey looked in the direction and saw a freshly dug grave.  "Is that the grave of the man we saw earlier?"

The ghost nodded.

Suddenly he was petrified.  "No.  I won't look.  I can't look.  I don't want to know whose grave this is!"

The ghost continued to point.

"If I say no are you gonna do that wind thing again," Pacey asked.

The ghost bobbed its head.

"Okay."  Pacey took a deep breath and, on shaking legs, slowly made his way over to the grave.  Stopping, he turned around and looked at the ghost.  It pointed again.  "I got it."  Turning back around he knelt down in the snow and wiped the matter off the headstone.  "NO!"

Here Lies

Pacey J. Witter

1983-2050

Pacey backed away from the grave and into the ghost.  He started to say something but was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps.  Turning around, Pacey saw a figure stop in front of his grave and he stared.

Joey placed a rose on the stone and stood back.  "Well, I guess this really is goodbye Pace," she said softly.  "All these years I hoped that you would come back…and you never did.  You never came back.  And now you're dead and we'll never meet again."  She paused, a grim smile spreading across her face.  "Happy haunting."  Then she turned around and walked away.

"NO JO," Pacey yelled.  "DON'T LEAVE!  I'M NOT DEAD!  I'M NOT DEAD! "

Joey didn't turn around.

"JOEY!"

Joey got in her car and drove away.

Pacey sat there for a moment, stunned, then swiveled his head around and buried his face in the ghost's robe.  "Please, I promise that I'll change.  I HAVE CHANGED!  I promise that I'll never shut people out again!  I SWEAR!  I'LL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO HELP OTHERS AND TO BE A GOOD MAN!  I'LL NEVER LET MONEY OR FEAR RULE OVER MY HEART!  NEVER AGAIN!  I SWEAR!"  Pausing for breath he lowered his voice.  Just please, please tell me that this can be changed!  That these are only shadows of the things that could be and not what will be.  PLEASE!"

THUD!

"OW!"  Pacey fell off the bed and hit the floor.  He finally stopped thrashing and looked around.  "Huh?"  He was in his own room.  But it wasn't morning like it always was in the movies.  Pacey checked his clock.  It was four a.m.  "What a night," he muttered, getting up off the floor.  He could remember every single thing that he had witnessed.  It burned in his memory and made him sick to his stomach.  Pacey barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up.

Flushing the toilet he closed the lid and leaned his head on it.  "What have I done," he whispered.

Thirty minutes later Pacey found himself outside his apartment, roaming the streets close to his building.   His head hurt from all the thoughts swirling around inside it.  He needed to go someplace peaceful where he could think.  Realizing where he needed to go, Pacey turned around and headed in the opposite direction.

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.  A graveyard full of memories he'd pushed away for years.

  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, before tonight, that 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.  Pacey 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?

 Standing there, he felt more than heard the intruder.  Turning around his mouth fell open.  "You."

 Standing in the snow was the ghost of Christmas yet to come.  It nodded.

 Pacey laughed and turned back around.  "If you've come to torture me more, I assure you that I'm feeling all the pain of my actions at this moment.  I don't need you to remind me of any more of my bad deeds.  I see all of them very clearly."

 There was a moment of silence.

 "That's not why I'm here," a familiar voice said.

 Pacey whirled back around and his mouth fell open.  "Oh my god."

 The specter took off its robe, revealing the true ghost that was hidden underneath.  "Hello Pacey."
 Pacey stared as the ghost walked over to him.  "Why you?"

"Because I didn't have to be chosen to haunt you, Pacey.  You chose me yourself."

"But you're not dead!"

"Not in the physically sense, no.  But I haven't been like this in years."

Pacey's troubled eyes met the ghosts and he reached out.  "Joey."  But it wasn't the present day Joey.  It was the sixteen-year old version of Joey, the one that he had first fallen in love with twenty-two years ago.  He touched her face and she closed her eyes, turning her head and kissing it gently.  "God I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"Why are you still here?  I thought that everything was shone to me while I was asleep."

Joey chuckled.  "Oh Pace.  Don't you understand?  I've always been here.  I never left.  You wouldn't let me."

Pacey's eyes widened.  "You're kidding?"

Joey shook her head.  "Nope.  Sure, you tried to stuff me down into the back of your mind and it worked but I was always there."

"How come I can touch you and I couldn't touch you before?"

"Because this time you're awake.  The people and events that you saw tonight were all shadows.  Shadows of younger versions of ourselves, of what has happened or will happen or could happen," Joey explained.  "You were there even though the people that participated in the events were only images, shadows…visions held captive in your mind."

"Whoa."

"Yeah."  She looked at him, seeing the pain and regret in his eyes as well as the worry lines that were etched across his face.  "What are you going to do?"

"I've changed, Jo.  I've realized what an ass I've been." He paused and looked at her.  "No more Mr. Big Shot.  No more I’m too good to lend money.  No more I'm too cheap to give my secretary a raise.  NO MORE ANY OF THAT SHIT!"

Joey smiled.  "I'm glad to hear you say that."

"I have so much to do that I'm not sure where to begin."

"I think you know where you should begin," she told him.

Pacey smiled.  "Thank you Jo."

"I'm just glad to see you back to your old self…and even better."

Pacey's smile faded.  "What about you?"

 "As you witnessed, I'm slowly making progress to being the person I once was as well."

 "And us," he asked hopefully.

 Joey sighed.  "I can't tell you Pacey.  It's not my place and I don't know.  Only you have the power to remedy the situation."

 Pacey looked down at the snow-covered ground.

 "But, do you want to hear my advice?"

 Pacey looked back up and met her eyes.  "Always."

 "Whatever you heart tells you to do…do it.  And don't think twice about it."

 Pacey smiled.  "I will."

Joey nodded.  "I should get going.  And you have a lot to do."

"Jo."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you.  I'm so sorry for all the pain I put you through."

Joey's lop-sided grin spread across her face.  "Don't thank me Pacey and don't apologize to me either.  There's another version of me out there that needs to hear it."

Pacey put his arms around her and hugged her.  "Bye Joey."

"Goodbye Pacey," she responded, hugging him back.

Then all he was left hugging was air.