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About a month later, the four were having a regularly scheduled Friday practice when Warren came in all smiles, but said nothing till they were done practicing. Finally, he stood up and broke the news.

"We got a record deal. Some recording company in Allen found out about us. Turns out, one of the guys at the party a couple of months ago worked for 'em." They all whooped and cheered, Jace finally cheering up for the first time in months.

"When do we start recording?" Brian asked.

"Next week, Saturday, get there at around 9:00 A.M."

* * * *

One week and a day later, Jace was standing outside the doors at 7:30, waiting for someone to let him in. Finally, they opened up at 8:00, and he set up everything they would need. After that, he sat around with the workers, talking with the coordinator. Jace had done his homework on pro recording, and immediately started in on the questions a book had given him to use to find out if the guy knew what he was doing.

"What if we blow a speaker out; or what if we get feedback we don't want, will you be able to fix that?"

"A speaker, hell yeah, that one will be easy, and from what I hear of you guys, that'll probably happen. As to feedback and stuff like that, nothing I can do about that except hit the 'stop' button." As far as Jace could tell, the director knew what he was doing.

When the others got here, they immediately got to work. They recorded only 2 songs that day, which lasted until dark, but they felt immensely proud, and booked the next week solid. They decided to split the cost.

Everything went smoothly, and they had their professionally recorded album in three weeks, a feat not to be looked down upon. They gathered around and looked at it. 74½ minutes of them, just them. They could hardly believe it! When talk turned to cover art, they decided to leave that till tomorrow, they still had one day left.

Then next day they took all the pictures they needed for the jewel case, booklet, and got a cool swirling design for the disc itself. They were each given a copy, but told that the actual selling was up to them. Even so, they left in very high spirits.

Outside in the parking lot, the group dispersed. Brian kissed Jace on the cheek, and told him he would meet him at home. Jace turned and started to walk towards his car. As he was shoving the keys in the door, he looked up to see Steven take a long pull off a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked." Was that really all he could say?

Steven looked up, "Yeah, look Jace; I need to talk to you." He threw the smoldering cigarette into the bushes, "I know I've been kind of an asshole lately, I haven't been paying as much attention to...anything...as I should have been." This sounded so rehearsed it wasn't even sincere.

Jace shook his head, "Yeah, Steven, you were an asshole. But I just want to forget it, okay?"

"Jace, please, just listen to me. I need to do this...Okay, the whole you, me, and Brian thing...It's not working with me. I...I can't do it, I'm sorry."

Jace stood stock still, staring as Steven turned and headed over to his truck, "You know, I don't want to either." Jace said resolutely.

Steven turned and faced him, frowning.

"You've been a complete bastard towards all of us lately, but I'm cool with that, because it happens. So, as long as you don't go doing anything stupid, I'm willing to let you stay in the band. That okay?" Jace said in a rush, breathing heavily.

"Thanks. I guess that's it, huh?" Steven said.

"There's nothing else to say...except...I'm sorry, man." Jace said looking down.

"It's nothing, really. I thought...I'll see you around." Steven said, turning once again.

"Steven!" Jace called.

The horse turned around, an unreadable look in his eyes, "What now, Jace?" He sighed.

"Good job today, are we gonna practice next week?"

"Maybe..."

* * * *

"It's not my fucking fault, okay? I didn't do a goddamn thing to him!" Steven screamed at the police officers, even as they handcuffed him. He tried to struggle, but they overpowered him, slamming him bodily into the wall. Breathing heavily, he looked wildly around for some sort of escape, barely listening as the one remaining officer read him his rights.

"You have the right to remain silent, as anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..." It went on and on, but Steven wasn't listening. He was too busy watching Brian being helped out of the large hotel room by Jace and Warren. The wolf looked horrible, blood seeping out of a cut over his eye, bruises evident on his arms and bare chest, his shirt had been ripped off somewhere. Steven's eyes were bloodshot, his nostrils flared, as he tried to convince anyone that it hadn't been him. Even so, his pleas fell upon deaf ears, and the last he saw of his friends was Jace giving him a look that could melt stone. Steven looked dejectedly towards the floor.

Jace and Warren struggled to get their friend down the stairs. Jace's breathing was short and quick, panic just below the breaking point. There was so much blood, what if Brian died? At the first floor landing, the paramedics took over, getting Brian into a stretcher and wheeling him out to an ambulance. Jace tried to climb in after them but a uniformed arm blocked his way.

"Jace, come on, I'll get you there before they do." Warren said, pulling the fox's arm. The two shot off towards Warren's car, and screeching out of the parking lot. They actually did pass the ambulance as they sped through nighttime traffic, but a red light stopped them from making any further progress. Jace leapt out of the moving car when they got to the hospital, landing hard on the pavement and taking off towards the emergency entrance. He could see the ambulance, but there was no sign of his wolf. He narrowly missed a patient as he skidded to a halt in front of the reception desk. His fingers were flying across the countertop, tapping out a beat four or eight times faster than his heartbeat, which was going about 120 or so. Finally, someone turned around and saw him.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yeah, you can. You can tell me where Brian Yeller is right now." Jace said, not caring if he came off a little rude.

"I'm sorry, he's not registered here. He's...wait a minute; he just showed up...how did you...?"

"Look, it doesn't matter, can you tell me where he is?"

"He's in ICU, but that's all I can tell you...Where are you going?"

"Recovery." Jace answered simply, spinning on a heel and taking off down a corridor. He could feel the puzzled receptionist staring after him, but he was too busy to care. After taking too many turns and passing through what had to be the same area four or five times, he finally found a sign that pointed to the ICU, taking the corner at high speeds and once again narrowly missing a patient. He caught a glimpse of gray fur and a familiar grimace, his mind flashing back to one time when Brian thought it would be a good idea to rewire his amplifier in the rain. He'd left with about a pound of salve and bandage around his hand, and that same grimace.

"Brian!" Jace yelled, making the whole corridor turn and stare as he flashed past. He couldn't help but think of those movies where someone supposedly finds their friend in a crowded area, but spins them around to find that it's some complete stranger, but luckily it was his wolf that turned, barely smiling.

"Jace, how'd you get here so fast?" He grunted.

"Shhhhhh, not while there are cops around." Jace said, holding a finger to his lips and flicking an ear at a group of police conversing in the corner. Someone pressed a form into his hand, and another doctor was talking to him.

"...know this wolf?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Why?" Jace turned, but the doctor had already left. Shaking his head to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, Jace realized that they were left utterly alone, and somehow Brian was in a hospital bed, wires hooked up to his chest, an oxygen tube hanging around his neck, and a big smile on his face.

"You kind of voided out there for a minute." He said.

Jace laughed softly, climbing into the bed and curling up next to the wolf, their arms wrapping around each other. Jace suddenly pulled back, his eyes going wide again.

"Brian...Steven did this, didn't he? I swear I'll kill him, I-"

"Whoa, Jace, slow down, babe. You think Steven did this? Oh, God no, that's not right. Look, I was downtown, a few blocks away from our hotel. Suddenly, some guy from the convention recognizes me, but he's not happy. He goes off about how his daughter got all drugged up and he found her listening to our music, he was going crazy, man. He took a swing at me. Look, it was hot, I was tired and bored, and he was annoying, so I swung back. Then, some huge guy, I mean he was like a refrigerator, he comes flying out of nowhere, pulls us apart, and starts beating the shit outta me! There was nothin' I could do, but Steven shows up, starts yelling. Man, have you ever seen Steven angry? Good God, he floored the guy with one punch, I was scared. So Steven dragged me back to our hotel, but one of the guys called the cops, and they caught us there. You know the rest. Look, whatever you felt against Steven, drop it, it wasn't him."

"Oh, God...I'm sorry." Jace was speechless.

"Don't apologize to me, you gotta get Steven. Where is he?."

"He's...in prison." Jace realized just how fucked he was.

"You've got to get him out!" Brian tried to sit up, but Jace pushed him back down.

"I will, but we don't have any money, and how are we gonna pay for this?"

"Look, just calm down, we'll think of a way. I promise. I love you."

"Okay, I love you too." Jace reached down and pulled the blankets over them, and soon he was asleep, safe and warm in the arms of his own knight in shining armor.

Sleep did not come easily to Brian, however, and he laid awake, warmth emanating from the fox in his arms, thinking about what they were going to do about Steven. He was just trying to guess at how much money his guitars would sell for when a knock came at the door. Brian panicked slightly, looking down at the orange-furred head lying on his shoulder, under his covers. There was no way he could fake out of this one. The door opened, he was having trouble breathing. Then, a voice, wonderfully familiar, sounded from the doorway.

"This one?" There was a murmur of approval. "Thank you; I'll only be a minute." The voice, low and velvety smooth, belonged to Steven. The big horse moved out of the shadow of the doorway, slowly walking towards the bed. He gasped softly as he saw the two lying there, but then his face relaxed, and he smiled a bit. Brian spoke first, "Steven, how did you get out, what are you doing here?" Steven laughed, then moved to sit down in the large, green, overstuffed chair typical of hospitals.

"My brother runs an insurance company. It's doing well, and he had the money. I'm really grateful. And...Sorry. I'm really sorry this all happened."

Brian sat up a bit, careful not to disturb Jace. He had a feeling that Steven had wanted to talk to him, and him alone, "It's good that you're out, but you shouldn't be apologizing. If anything, it's my fault all this shit happened. I shouldn't have gotten into a fight."

"Jail makes it feel like it's all your fault." Steven said, looking at his feet. Brian placed a hand on his leg, the only part of him that he could reach, hoping that Steven wouldn't take it as a hit, "You know, Jace was gonna bail you out, I think he really wanted to. He's never really been the same since you and him...I guess you could call it broke up, but I dunno. Anyway, I think he really wanted to help, to show you you still meant something to him. He's really big on that, he doesn't like people to think wrong about him." Brian remembered a time when Jace had spent the better part of a week apologizing for something stupid he had done, and grinned widely.

"You think so?" Steven asked, looking down at the sleeping form of his guitarist and lead singer. Brian smiled reassuringly at his friend, "I'm positive."

Steven smiled, grasping Brian's hand firmly.

"Thanks, Brian."

"No problem. Now, go back to the hotel and get some sleep."

Two months later, Brian had been out of the hospital for a while, and the four were practicing for a huge battle of the bands taking place a week later. Everything was going perfectly, and it seemed that they were finally at peace. However, the night before the show, Jace walked in on Steven in the bathroom. Quickly, the horse tried to hide the syringe, but Jace grabbed it, shocked.

"Steven..." He said sadly.

"Look, what I do when I'm away from you guys is none of your business." Steven replied angrily.

"You're right, but as soon as it affects your ability to play, it becomes my business. I saw you shaking tonight, I thought it was nerves, but...I guess I was wrong about you." Jace turned and walked out.

That had been the first in a long series of events. As it turned out, Steven had been getting into more and more trouble with pretty much everything he'd ever said 'no' to in his entire life. He took sex, drugs, and rock and roll to a whole new level that was never supposed to be achieved. Between the prostitutes, the cocaine, and the bribes to the people who caught him, he quickly lost any money he'd ever earned, and started borrowing from the guys. He turned from a good friend into a severe financial drain in less than a month. Finally, one night, Jace found him passed out on the floor, had taken his almost-brother's arm, and dragged him into his room. There, Steven had woken up, and Jace confronted him about it. A huge fight had ensued, in which Steven's only point was that it was his business what he did with himself, whereas Jace had much harder arguments. It was the last time any of them ever saw Steven; he had packed his stuff and moved out...

Jace sighed, putting down the phone and picking it up again for the fourth time. He had almost dialed the number that last time, his finger had been hovering over the first number for at least two minutes, before, once again, nerves and emotions had gotten the better of him. He had been trying to call Steven for the past hour, to no avail. He sat there, listening to the dial tone for a few minutes, before finally trying again. His fingers moved over the number pad, pressing here and there, and slowly, the beeps filled his ear, and the numbers scrolled across the screen. Ten of them, finally entered, and the phone started to ring. It was here that he almost hung up again, but he felt that it would hurt Steven to know that he had given up. At the third ring, he kind of felt proud that he'd been able to do it, that it had been him who'd come to apologize first. And yet...fate had a cruel irony indeed. Steven's voice came on the line, and Jace started talking for a full two seconds before realizing that it was a voicemail recording. He sighed, lowering his head onto the table, hanging up the phone and closing his eyes. Brian found him there, touched his shoulder; and the two went to bed, having a long talk about things before finally sleep claimed them.

When Jace woke up, he felt much better. He knew he'd tried, and there was nothing to it after that. He could actually smile today, and to celebrate, Brian took him out to go have some fun. They had lunch at a local steakhouse, then went bowling for a while, and finished up with a long stay at the huge music store, playing various guitars, signing the occasional autograph, and just hanging out. It had been there that Jace's phone started to ring...

"Hello?"

"Is this a Mr. Jace Thatcher?"

"Yes...it is...who's calling?"

"This is the Police Department, we have a body that we need your confirmation on."

"Wait, wait...what? A body?"

"Yes sir, didn't anyone tell you? We found the body of a...Steven...er..."

Jace's eyes went wide...he knew that stutter...Steven's last name was Polish, no one knew how to pronounce it...

"No..."

"Er...Mr. Thatcher? Are you there?"

In fact, he had not been there, he'd hung up a moment before. He stood, tears streaming down his face, in the middle of the store. Brian stood, grabbed his arm, and led him out quickly. In the car, he'd been pelted with questions, answering them with one word or less. The tears had stopped halfway home, and by the time the coffee had been forced into his hand, he'd barely felt alive anymore. Talk was beyond him, Brian quickly found out, so together they sat, mugs in hand. Jace threw the coffee out, saying he needed something harder, but Brian wouldn't let him have any alcohol. On the third time of trying, Brian stood him up, turned him around, and shoved him as hard as he could towards the bedroom. He'd flows past the other doors, tripping over his own feet, and crashing into the bed. Brian slid up and crawled in next to him, apologizing and saying that it had been for his own good. Jace nodded, closing his eyes tightly and burying his face in the pillow. Brian pulled at his shoulder, saying he'd rather not have his best friend smother himself. Jace grunted, turning over to face the wall. He felt Brian's chest against his back, and felt horribly guilty, but he couldn't bring himself to turn back around. They laid there, letting things sink in. At about midnight, Jace felt Brian start to shake, and then...somehow, he'd been trying to pretend that it had been a dream...but then, he knew, it was all real...

Jace tried to stem the flow of tears. He had only just gotten to the small building, the funeral center, in the middle of the city, surrounded by pretty buildings with flowers. He had been...better, at least, when he was walking in, but now, already...

"Fuck..." He turned around, almost walking out the door. A hand grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it a bit. He turned and embraced Brian, fresh tears anointing the wolf's shoulder. Brian grimaced; patting Jace's back, whispering comforting words into his love's ears.

"Shhh, babe, it'll be okay. You can do this."

Jace shook his head, crying even harder. There was no way he could walk in there and confront the body of his best friend. He had thought that it was going well, that Steven had been fighting back...but, these past few weeks, he'd been getting more and more calls, from people who actually knew where Steven was, how he was doing. Jace mentally kicked himself, he should have been there, should have been able to stop Steven from doing all the shit he was doing.

Brian held Jace close to him, past words. They all were. Jace finally looked around, taking in everything...the flowers in vases, the pictures of a happy Steven, elsewhere in life, probably before they'd formed the band. There was Warren, dressed in a hurriedly-prepared tuxedo, he'd been on vacation with his girlfriend, he'd proposed, and he'd only just gotten back a couple hours ago. There was Steven's family, looking at him like there was something wrong with him. How dare they, they were probably thinking that he'd had something to do with this...oh, wait...he had. Jace looked into the actual building, past the entrance area. No one was there; it seems that he had been the last to arrive. How could no one else be coming? Oh, yes...they had specifically said that only a few would be allowed...or else there would have been thousands of people. He kept forgetting that they were famous. Jace had a moment of hindsight, thinking that at least he could have lost himself in the crowds had it been an open funeral.

Brian was saying something, Jace didn't even bother listening, there just wasn't much of a point, anything that could be said now should have been said months ago, when there was still a Steven to talk to. He moved away, back towards the shadowy corners of the building, trying to be ignored. He mentally screamed with frustration as he saw Steven's father step over to him. His mother, naturally, wasn't there; she hadn't been there for years. Jace just watched as his best friend's father walked towards him, something on his mind, intending to say it.

"Jace. I know that you tried to help, but...the fact remains, this is partly your fault. You know you should have done more, so I'm not going to tell you that. Instead, I'm simply going to tell you to stay away from the rest of my family, never contact us again. And...You would do well to sever any other ties you have with people you love. First, it was your brother, then my wife, and now it was Steven." With that, the big horse turned and, gesturing towards his family to follow, he...left. He actually, somehow, managed to walk right out the door, leaving his dead son behind in a wooden prison, never able to see or feel again, never able to tell that his father hardly cared that he was dead, that he had been here just to tell Jace how much he hated him.

Brian was speechless, he had just heard Steven's father blame Jace for Steven's death, and then seen the whole family walk out on their dead son. He couldn't even move, he was so furious. How...how the fuck could they have just done that? They didn't even give half a fuck about Steven; they just wanted to make Jace feel like shit.

Warren was the only one who could move, so he did. He touched Brian on the shoulder, gesturing towards Jace, and then moved into the building, the lights had dimmed, and there were benches to sit on, as if any one of them were going to pray.

Brian hugged his fox, but he noted how cold it felt. Like every little thing Jace had ever felt had just been swept away, and now there was nothing, and it showed, in his skin, with a numbing coldness. It was then that Jace did something that Brian thought he never could.

Jace shrugged off the hug, his eyes red and filled with hate, hot tears coursing down his cheeks. His throat seized up, he couldn't breathe, muscles bulged out of his neck, veins clearly visible. His whole body started to shake, his fists balled up. He shoved Brian out of the way, pushing away everything he had ever loved. He followed Warren into the parlor, collapsing into one of the seats, unable to go further than the last row.

Brian knew that Jace had had no control over his actions, so it didn't hurt, thankfully. Instead of getting angry and sad, he just felt his heart go out towards the fox, unable to imagine how he must feel. He was the last one in the entrance area, and the silence was oppressing. He was the last one to move into the parlor, in its history, ever. Steven's funeral was the last one that would be held inside these walls, Jace would have the building torn down a few weeks later, buying a new property and building a new building for the owners and workers. He would condemn the site, never laying eyes on it again. Drowning in Emotion would go on, they would find a new bassist, and they would become famous, obtaining a major record deal from Atlantic. Jace would become rich and famous, everything he had dreamed of as a kid, when, he had first been learning to play the guitar. He wouldn't get involved in anything, wouldn't do drugs, he stayed faithful to Brian the whole time, and their relationship only got better. He would take a more U2-like road, writing about what the world should be like, how people should forget their differences and forgive the ones who had done wrongs against them. However, none of the songs ever said anything about the chasm in his heart, the hole left behind by his best friend, who had stuck with him through thick and thin, even with all the drugs. Every day, he was wounded anew, as memories invaded his mind at every waking moment. He tried to not change on the outside, but it showed, nonetheless, the pain etched into his features permanently in the trails of bare skin the tears had carved into his face. He would never be forgiven, though, he would never get the chance. Steven's family, true to his father's word, would sever all contact with him. As far as he was concerned, they had dropped off the face of the Earth. Contrary to Steven's father, though, Jace's life only got better, he never hurt anyone again. And so, it was a bittersweet ending, as most endings are, for that is the only thing that awaits any of us. There will be sorrows, there will be happiness, it is only how we interpret life that makes sense to anyone. And so, it was a bittersweet ending, as mine will be, and as yours will be, too.