Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It's probably more accurate to say this fandom owns me.

Warning: Dark; Language; AU

-BB-

Stages of Disintegration

Ch. 5

It's a sorority house. Austin imagined ABBA on loop, playing throughout the house, girls in short shorts giggling and running around like one giant sleepover, wine coolers and pillow feathers included. Instead, the old house with the white pillars is oddly quiet; the lights are all on, but activity appears minimal. Austin peeks into what appears to be a dinning room containing a large table where a group of girls are sitting with books all open, papers scattered, calculators and pencils out. This is totally killing the dream.

"Can I help you?" a pushy voice asks. Austin straightens and notices a curly-haired blonde giving him the evil eye, arms crossed over her chest. She's tall, nearly his height, has to be the killer heels she's wearing. "What do you think you're doing here exactly?"

"I—uh—"

"Naomi, it's cool," says another girl with pin-straight auburn hair. "He was here the other night, remember? The one who followed Faith home after Jordan's birthday party."

"Honest to God, what is wrong with that girl? He could be a serial killer or a rapist for all we know," Naomi says, loudly, as if Austin isn't standing right there. "I don't understand what she gets out of it. Faith doesn't even sleep with any of them. She needs to stop bringing strays home like this."

Austin's jaw clenches. Max was the same way, except his strays were of the canine variety.

The second girl glances over at Austin and lowers her voice even though he can still hear. "Yeah, but he was crying and stuff and you know how Faith is a sucker for that type."

"God. Fine. Go get her so she can clean up her mess."

The second girl scurries up the stairs while the first continues to give him a hard stare, like a guard dog off its chain. Austin forces a big, innocent smile just to spite her. The chick is so uptight. She needs to take a vacation or get laid or something. Seriously.

"Hey. I was beginning to think I wasn't going to see you ever again."

Austin turns towards the stairs and sees a petite girl with pale, porcelain skin and glossy strawberry blonde hair pouring down her shoulders. She's on the short side, not Austin's usual, tall, curvy and exotic type, but she's cute. He can't help, but laugh a little when he sees the blue and orange jersey she's wearing, marked with the number fifteen in bold white letters across the chest. The girl is a Broncos fan, specifically a Tebow fan. She raises an eyebrow and Austin shakes his head to assure her he means no offense.

"It took me a while to figure out which house was yours," Austin explains. "I couldn't exactly call since you have my cell phone and I couldn't very well go up to every single house and ask if I was there the other night, passed out on the kitchen floor."

"Faith," Naomi says promptly, drawing the girl's attention away from Austin. "I think it's best if you take this outside. Some of the girls are trying to study."

"Oh sure, I wouldn't dream of interrupting study time. You bet, Naomi," she says with this playfulness that irritates the other girl yet amuses Austin. She has spunk. He's starting to see how he could have ended up following this girl around like a lost puppy. She walks towards the door and pulls on Austin's sleeve (with no sense of personal space, apparently) and drags him outside. "Was Nae a bitch to you? Sorry about her. House president. House bitch. Blah, blah, blah."

"No, it's fine," he says, standing with her out on the porch. "I'm Austin Tucker, by the way."

"Yeah, Kaylie told me. Sorry for outing where you were. Unless she's really cool I'm assuming your girlfriend didn't take it too well, finding out that you were partying at a frat house and then crashed at a sorority," she says with a wince.

"Actually, Kaylie, she, uh, she isn't my girlfriend," Austin corrects. There was a point where that was the one thing he wanted more than anything and that feeling was at its strongest at the sendoff party, but now, Austin doesn't know. She can't help him through this just like he couldn't help her through rehab. That's just the way things are.

"Oh, crap. My bad. So, Payson, then?"

"No. I don't really date. I am Austin Tucker."

"Yeah, you just said that. And I'm Faith Giancana," she says, putting the same emphasis on her name even though Austin is pretty sure she isn't an Olympic gymnast or the face of a multi-million dollar designer sunglasses brand.

"You really don't know me, do you?"

"No, but sorta." She purses her lips. "I know you surprisingly hold your liquor and you have this super power where you walk into a room of strangers and just make everyone love you. You've got a killer smile, but it does kind of a crap job at hiding how upset you are and it all has something to do with your best friend, Max?"

Damn, she's good. Who is this girl?

"I told you about Max?" he asks softly.

"You don't remember?"

"I blacked out and I tend to make an ass out of myself so I just want to apologize if I said anything offensive or told you too much, broke anything expensive or pulled out my cheesiest pick-up lines."

"You didn't. Hit on me, I mean, like at all. I don't think you were creeping on any of the girls. Just talking to anyone who'd listen about how much you wished you could forget…or maybe how much you wished you were a cartoon character, one of those, I had a few last night too," she tells him. Faith reaches into the back pocket of the baggy CU sweats she's wearing and holds the phone out to him. "Here. I put my number in and that's not a come on or anything. It sounds like you already have your hands full in that department, but if you ever need to talk I'm always looking for reasons to avoid doing my readings for class."

"I'll keep that in mind," Austin says. "Thanks again."

Right as Austin turns to walk back down the pavement, back to Lolita, he hears her call out to him. "This is the last time I'm ever going to see you, isn't it?"

Austin turns back to face her, but still slowly starts to walk backwards, away from her. "I don't know. I guess we'll just leave it up to fate."

"Take care of yourself, Handsome." Faith gives him a reassuring smile and waves.

Austin gives her a nod and he thinks to wink at her, but turns back around before she can see it. When he walks back to his motorcycle, he finds a couple of guys standing around, admiring his ride. They start to talk and Austin turns on the charm. Talking turns into being invited back to an on-campus apartment, doing shots of cheap vodka (that's more like rubbing alcohol) and chasing it with coke, being cheered on by a ring of college kids. Austin doesn't know where he'll wake up in the morning, but he knows anywhere is better than going home to the lake house, haunted by memories and no booze left to numb him.

…

Just closing his eyes while Kelly drives somehow turns into the first whole hour of uninterrupted sleep he's had since Dallas. When he opens his eyes, the first thing Nicky sees is Kelly, busy on her phone. She fucked with the radio stations because this isn't what he usually listens to (he likes this a lot better) and it's mostly dark out other than the glow of the light overhead and the piercing flashes of a neon green sign on the building they're parked near.

"Where are we?" Nicky asks groggily.

"Only one of Denver's finest strip clubs," Kelly replies. The screen of her phone goes dark and she turns to look at him. "It's called Envy, though if they were going for a play on the seven deadly sins, I'd say they chose wrong."

"I tell you to go anywhere you want and we end up at a strip club?"

"It just so happens to be Marty's latest headquarters. I drove by his apartment, but his car was gone and I had a hunch he'd be here. Low and behold, his car is parked over there," Kelly explains. "I know you're agonizing over whether to go back to New York for the funeral or to Worlds with us and I thought you could use a little clarity."

"And you think Marty is the right one to give me this clarity? In a strip club?" Nicky asks. Kelly gives him a duh expression, illuminated by the screen of her phone and Nicky laughs. "The wizard of Oz could probably do more for me."

"That's kind of what Marty is. Anyways, I bet he'll be happy to see you. He did nearly cry when you left," she teases. It's a lie, but it makes him somewhat smile anyways. Kelly stretches and grabs Nicky's shirt from the backseat, throwing it at him.

"It's a strip club and you want me to cover up?"

"Duh. Unless you're a whore."

"Don't be mean, Kelly. They're just as much athletes as you," he jokes, amused by Kelly's disgusted reaction. Nicky was ready to combust an hour ago, but now he's back down, grounded, calm. It worries Kelly, he can see it, but she won't ask and Nicky's yet to decide if he likes that or not. After buttoning his shirt up, Nicky reaches for the door handle, but pauses when he sees Kelly back to playing with her phone. "Are you not coming with?"

She looks at him like he's stupid. It's oddly endearing coming from her. "I'm sixteen. Plus, the last thing I want to see is horny, nasty guys pay girls to dance on them, especially when one of those horny, nasty guys is my coach. And, fyi, grinding on a pole isn't a sport. Source of income, hobby, sure, but as a real athlete, I'm offended."

Of everything she just said, the one thing that makes him smile is that Kelly still considers Marty her coach even if she's currently at the Rock. "Okay," he says, getting out of the car. "Lock the doors, will you? The last thing we need is you getting carjacked. This car is what I missed most about Colorado."

"Touching," Kelly says sarcastically. Nicky slams the door after him and takes a moment to straighten his shirt, not leaving until he hears the click of Kelly locking the doors. He's about to walk away, but then stops and taps on the window.

"Wait, could you spot me a few dollar bills?"

She gives him that look again, the Nicky Russo, you're stupid, and he smiles at her. Nicky doesn't really know why he's hanging out with Kelly Parker. Up until a few days ago, he wasn't even sure if he liked Kelly Parker. Slowly, he's coming to the realization that she's okay. She's different from what he remembers of the DE dictator, but he can also still see bits and pieces of that little girl who'd squeeze his hand every time they'd watch Mulan and the imperial army come across that obliterated town. Though Kelly definitely realizes it's a possibility, she doesn't treat him like he's broken or that his opinion doesn't matter. She's being a friend and that's awesome. Plus, she's kind of nice to look at, but that's totally beside the point.

The bouncer checks his I.D. at the door and charges him twenty bucks, which Nicky thinks is a total rip-off since he's here for a conversation and not the show. He isn't even old enough to drink and the bouncer reminds him of this, letting him through after paying. He's only been eighteen for a couple months now and this is the first time he's ever stepped foot in a strip club. Apparently, there's a first for everything.

Once inside, Nicky tries to keep his head down and navigates the dimly lit, smoky room in search of his old coach. When he finds him, he doesn't have a girl dancing on him (thank God), just with a drink in hand, staring, mesmerized by a scantily clad girl on stage, doing some unimaginable things with her body upside down on a pole. Whoa.

Tilting his chin down even further and hoping the low lighting hides the heat of his face, Nicky quickly goes over to the head coach of Denver Elite. "Marty, you gotta tell me to go to Rio."

Marty quickly sits up, alarmed. "Russo? Kid, what are you doing here?"

"Tell me to go to Rio," Nicky says again, moving to stand in front of the retired gymnast, blocking his view of the stripper and the pole. "Everyone is telling me not to, that I have an obligation to my family, to be there for Max's funeral. Is it so wrong that I'd rather go to Worlds? Does that make me a bad person?"

"Nicky, maybe we should—"

"I can't," Nicky says. His voice cracks and he doesn't even care. "All they're going to do in New York is put me in a suit and remind me to take my pills, tell me to shut up and stand there so we look like a family for the pictures. At least in Rio, I'll be doing something. Gymnastics. What I've worked for my entire life. None of that fake bullshit, which is the last thing Max would have wanted, but they don't care. I just…I don't know what to do."

Nicky takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. He feels so much, too much, but he doesn't know how to get it out, release it and free himself of it. Instead, he just pops a pill. Sedated. Suppressed. Calm.

"Well, sounds to me like you already made the decision," Marty points out.

"Mrs. Keeler booked me on their flight to Rio. I asked her to. But it's never too late to back out. If I scrap it, go back to New York, I'm sure my dad will take care of the bill," Nicky explains. He really is weary of the couch Marty is currently situated on, but sits next to him anyways. "But that doesn't make me feel like any less of a jackass, choosing my future over my family. Do you think I'm being selfish?"

Marty sighs, jingling the melting ice cubes in his glass. "I think you're being smart, independent. Most people are so obsessed with taking care of others and caring what other people think that they destroy themselves to make other people happy. You know what I see when I look at you? A kid who's smart enough to think to take care of himself first and strong enough to carry through."

Nicky sighs too, wishing he had a drink himself. Some wine would be nice right about now. His family is currently stockpiling it. "Let's be real. The team's a mess, isn't it?"

"You bet." Marty chuckles lowly. "Without Max, God bless him, that means Court McKane, the alternate kid from Georgia, is going to actually be competing. He just found out Monday. Austin Tucker, our number one, he wasn't much of a leader or even a team player to begin with and Sasha tells me he's far from ready. Truthfully, it'll be a miracle if team USA scrapes bronze in teams."

"Glad to know we have your support."

"Hey," Marty says warningly. "What was the first thing I said to you when you came to Denver?"

"No sugar-coated bullshit," Nicky says. "Drive and endurance. Determination and experience. DE."

"Damn right. You keep your head high and fight. No one said this was going to be easy. If you can manage to stay focused, you might just steal it all," Marty says, sipping his drink. "I really am sorry about your loss, kid. I only met your cousin that once at the exhibition in Denver and despite what I heard from my boys in Texas, Max seemed like a good kid."

"Thank you, coach," Nicky says. "By the way, I'm going to try to fit in as much training as I possibly can until when we leave for Brazil. I've already talked to Sasha and he agreed to let me use the Rock all day tomorrow. I figure maybe I can keep an eye on Tucker. I just thought you should know."

"Okay?" the older man says confusedly. "Why does it matter what I think? I'm not your coach anymore."

"Yeah, you kinda still are."

The flattery spreads across his lips in a smile and Marty clasps Nicky's shoulder in solidarity, comfort and encouragement. Nicky doesn't stay long. He starts to leave the moment Marty jokingly asks if he's ever had a lapdance before and as Nicky quickly walks to the door, Marty shouts after him, telling him to get some rest and good luck. Back out in the parking lot, Kelly asks him maybe a million questions, but Nicky just tells her to swap seats with him and that he'll explain on their way back to Boulder. He gets behind the wheel. He takes control.

…

Sometimes Payson really envies Phoebe.

Phoebe's just a dog. Payson takes her out running with her every morning and then Phoebe gets to just lounge around the house while everyone is out at work. The tiny dog's biggest concern in life is whether passing people are friend or foe and should be barked at or not. Though Phoebe has proven to be intelligent, is the able to comprehend that Max is never going to visit her ever again?

Sometimes, when Phoebe expectantly sits by the front door, Payson wonders if dogs are capable of realizing the absence or loss of someone. She wonders if Phoebe feels the ache that comes with realization. Payson has noticed that Phoebe whimpers whenever they're about to head out to the gym for the day and it makes her feel horrible for leaving the little dog alone. But does Phoebe actually miss Payson when she's gone? Or could it possibly be a case of out of sight, out of mind? When Phoebe sits by the door like that, is she waiting for Max or expecting to bark at the mailman?

"C'mere, you," Payson says softly. She scoops the little dog up into her arms and sits back, cuddling her. Phoebe is supposed to belong to Max and her. They're supposed to have joint custody and joint responsibility. Not anymore. "Hey girl, wanna go for a run?"

Phoebe barks, such an adorable, high-pitch sound and swipes her long, pink tongue across Payson's nose. The blonde laughs, a sound so foreign, even to herself. It surprises her, almost makes her gasp. She can't remember the last time she laughed. It feels like forever when the reality is it's only been days.

"Mom, I'm taking Phoebe out for a run," Payson calls out, getting up from the couch and grabbing the leather leash hanging nearby. Phoebe excitedly barks and shakes out her fur, already knowing what's happening even before Payson gets down on one knee to connect the leash and collar.

"Be safe," Kim calls back. "The weather report says it's going to be nice out today. Hey, instead of running through the park like you always do, why don't you head down lakeside?"

Down by the lake house. To check on Austin.

Payson doesn't understand why Kim is so insistent. Austin is full-grown. He can take care of himself. Just as she's about to convince her mom of this, Payson thinks back to Austin Tucker out in that parking lot, kicking and fuming. The darkness and bitterness has gotten to him, in him, trapped. He wants to let it go, he's desperate to, but he can't. Payson knows the feeling. Austin is just worse at hiding it.

"Maybe," Payson says in return. "I'll be back in a little."

Payson doesn't break out in a full sprint. She just needs a little movement to wake up and warm her muscles just to start her day. It also gives her some time, some space. The outdoors, fresh air and sunlight have always done that for her. Phoebe speeds ahead of her, small and fast, the metal tags on her collar jingling with every step. They usually run through the trails in the park, but Payson cuts down by the lake instead, knowing that if she goes to the park there'll be no one to meet her.

When she approaches the lake house, her heart thumps even louder in her chest and in her head. Payson doesn't know what she's going to say to Austin. He was the one other person (Payson can't even begin to consider Lauren in the running) who spent the most time with Max and knew him even better than she did. She's never lost someone under these circumstances before. It's all new territory.

There's an expensive car in the driveway, parked next to Austin's. Lolita is missing. Payson swipes the back of her hand across her forehead, wondering if Austin has company. There's a knocking sound, a fist against a door. Loud. Angry. The sound competes with the pounding of Payson's heart.

"Malcolm, I don't think he's home."

"He's never home when we drop by. Gina, something isn't right about that. His housemate dies and he's nowhere to be found?"

"Don't talk like that. Max wouldn't allow it."

A man and woman walk down the steps leading from the front door. They freeze when they see Payson and she does the same. The woman's dark hair and her dark eyes plus the man's distinct nose and broad shoulders mashed up, with the use of her imagination, almost immediately Max comes to mind. Phoebe breaks the silence with a bark, jumping up on her hind legs before falling back on all fours, breathing loudly.

"Hi," Payson says slowly. "Are you looking for Austin?"

"Yes, we are," the man replies. His eyes don't quite meet hers, staring higher, at her blonde hair. "I'm Malcolm and this is my wife, Gina. We're Max Spencer's parents. Did you…did you know our son?"

Payson feels her bottom lip start to tremble and presses her teeth together as if that would put an end to it. "I—I did. We were really good friends. I'm Payson. Payson Keeler."

Every time she drops her name in a gymnastics setting, it always elicits a reaction. They call her a lot of things. She's the girl who rose from the ashes, made a comeback and did so with grace and beauty. Payson would expect them to react similarly, but that isn't so. Bursting out in a fresh batch of tears, Max's mother immediately rushes over to her with open arms, immediately pulling her into a hug, leaving a confused Payson to stand there, watching what seems to be relief wash over Mr. Spencer's face.

"Payson," Mrs. Spencer says. She makes it sound like they're old friends or something and Payson can't even pretend this isn't completely weird for her. As the woman hugs her tight, Payson doesn't want to be rude so she just brings her hand up to pat the woman's back. She pulls back a moment later, laughing miserably through her tears. "Look at me. Pouncing on you. I'm such a mess."

"I really don't mind," Payson says.

Yes, Payson does mind. Yes, the woman is a mess. Fact.

But Payson was raised better than to point this out. Also fact.

"Max," the woman says, sniffling. She places her hand on her chest, over her heart, as if she can physically feel it break just at the sound of his name. "Max told us about you. He talked about you all the time."

"He did?" Payson gasps.

"He said such lovely things about you. He admired you. I don't think I've ever heard Max talk that way about any other girl before," Mrs. Spencer goes on. She laces her fingers as she if to try to keep them away from the blonde gymnast. Payson can't even begin to guess what praises Max had sung about her, what he could have possibly said to get his parents to look at her the way they're looking at her now.

"You gave us hope," Mr. Spencer adds. Payson turns his way and he almost looks like he wants to take it back, but powers through. "I mean to say, you gave him hope. Max. I could hear it in him every time we spoke and he mentioned you. You inspired him. With your gymnastics."

"He sent us the video of your floor routine," Mrs. Spencer says quickly. "You're a stunning athlete."

"Thank you."

Phoebe barks again, seeing all these people around her and wondering why they aren't paying any attention to her. Payson immediately bends down and picks up the little dog, holding her in her arms. Mrs. Spencer immediately smiles and reaches out to scratch Phoebe behind the ears. Payson smiles softly. That's where Max got his love for animals, she's sure.

"I'm happy Max was able to find some positive influence while he was here," Mr. Spencer says. "It really is a shame we weren't able to meet under better circumstances."

"I feel the same way," the blonde agrees, curling her arms around Phoebe as the little dog nuzzles her snout into Payson's neck. "I really am sorry for your loss. Max, he was one of the good ones."

Mrs. Spencer emits a low whimper and her husband rounds his arm around her. Payson didn't mean to make her sad. Then again, given the situation, it probably doesn't take much to set her off.

"Since Austin Tucker isn't here, this trip seems to have been a lost cause. We should be on our way. We, um, we have to go down to see the county registrar to see about that disposition permit, get our boy ready for transport back home," Mr. Spencer says with a sigh of frustration.

She tenses and Phoebe feels it, squirming out of Payson's arms and landing back on her paws. Payson gets lost to the memory for a moment, remembering Kaylie with her hesitation, telling her about the family's decision to ship Max's body bad to his hometown. She didn't argue or cry or fret. Payson just thanked Kaylie for telling her and got back to gymnastics.

"Mal's right. We should go," Mrs. Spencer says. "Payson, could we do anything for you? Give you a ride anywhere?"

She doesn't know where she gets the courage from, but it almost feels like running into the Spencers isn't just a coincidence. It happened for a reason and Payson isn't going to waste this opportunity.

"Actually, Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, there's something I'd like to talk to you about…"

…

Lauren has done a number of questionable things in the past. Kaylie has stood by and shook her head, but never commented when Lauren would use her devious antics to manipulate and get her way. This is different. Kaylie doesn't know what to do about this. She doesn't even know what to think about this. In the eleven years that she's known Lauren, ever since the two started their gymnastics journey in beginners tumbling classes, Kaylie has never been afraid of Lauren. Then last night happened.

Though she had been half-asleep at the time, Kaylie can't forget waking up and finding herself alone in Lauren's bed, the sound of her bare feet against the cold tile floor as she searched for her friend, the smell of lighter fluid out in the backyard, the flames that kissed the sky and the whisper, "Kay, don't tell my dad."

Looking at Lauren now, early in the morning at the Rock, up on her beam, moving her body with these fierce, sharp motions as Sasha looks on, a critical expression on his face, Kaylie sees no resemblance to the girl from last night, a match in hand and fire in her eyes. No, literally. Fire reflected in her eyes. Lauren didn't even offer her any explanation, just that whisper and a command to go back to bed, forget any of that happened. But it did. It's troubling.

"Kaylie!"

Payson calling her name across the gym immediately pulls Kaylie out of her thoughts. Kaylie smiles softly, seeing her blonde friend running towards her, her long hair up in a ponytail bouncing behind her. It's nice to see Payson so active, so alive and almost happy.

"Hey, Pay, what's got you so worked up?"

"Great news! Since we're leaving for Worlds and they're bringing Max back to New York, I convinced Max's parents to schedule a last minute visitation for us so we can see him. Austin needs to be there. It might be our last chance to say goodbye," Payson says all in one breath. "Where's Austin? I need to tell him!"

"I don't know," Kaylie answers honestly. She can't help, but darkly add, "Maybe you should try all the CU sororities."

Payson stares back, innocently confused. "What? What's going on with you two?"

"I don't even know anymore," she says. Kaylie turns clammy every time she tries to call him, afraid a sorority girl (probably a different one from the last time) is going to answer all over again, but the last three times went to voicemail. Now she's just given up. He'll turn up when he wants to be found. "I don't know where he is. He hasn't been answering any of my calls. I don't even know if he got his phone back from that girl."

"Well, keep trying," the blonde says urgently. Of course Payson doesn't pick up on how Kaylie is dying to rant about her relationship falling apart before it can even come together. Bouncing like she can't keep still, not even for a second, Payson murmurs, "I need to go tell Sasha," and takes off.

As Kaylie watches Payson run over to their coach with the news, a curious Lauren joining in to hear, Kaylie crosses her fingers that hopefully this will mean healing for all of them and not just another reason to fall apart all over again.

A/N: Thanks for all the feedback! I'm really falling in love with this and I hope you are too. With the way Max's parents took to Payson, the contrast to how they react to Lauren and Austin in the next chapter…I haven't written it yet, but already I'm going for explosive and devastating. I know I'm a total Nickelly slut, but Nicky's our gateway into Max's life other than what we've seen in Boulder and his girl's gonna be there for him, okay? :P God, Lauren and Austin. At least Payson is trying to keep it together. Those other two, well, you'll see…

Reviews are my Red Bull. Leave me something to work with and updates will come faster! xoxo