Chapter 1: An Offer She Couldn't Refuse

The bar is damp and dreary, which is fine with Bay. It's the kind of place they don't card you. You got the dough? You can get some booze. She shouldn't be here. She knows she shouldn't be here. Alcohol only gets her into trouble. Her and Regina, but she couldn't get a flight out until tomorrow afternoon and her motel room was – if possible – more depressing than this place.

At first, she was gravitating towards beer. Nothing special or fancy; just something to take the edge off. But then the flashes came.

Emmett.

"This doesn't have to be forever. Maybe in a couple of years…"

She chortled. A couple of years.

What a crock of shit.

Bay didn't want to wait a couple of years. She wanted Emmett now. Why couldn't they have it now?

More flashes come.

The first time he kissed her, all innocent and sweet. The second time. Still sweet, but fiercer. Hungrier.

Their first time in the park. The way he would kiss her neck and….

Oh, fuck.

"Vodka martini," she tells the bartender, "now."

Please go away she wills the memories.

They don't go away. Instead they come harder and faster and with a vengeance as Bay drinks her drink. Then she sees Tank's face.

She sees herself waking up in Tank's bed.

Her bra is on the floor along with her underwear. She has no memory of what has occurred between them.

Him pleading with her not to tell the administration.

The text message saying Tank was expelled.

Why was it all so fucked up?

How did she get here? This place, this bar?

And to make matters worse, her drink was done.

"Another one," she says while snapping her fingers.

"You sure that's a good idea?" comes a voice to her left.

"Excuse me?" she asks, turning towards the voice. It's a guy, of course. A very handsome guy with short, light brown hair, hazel eyes. Had she not just been dumped, she probably would have found the attention and concern flattering. But now she just wants to get lost in her sorrows without being judged or patronized or whatever the hell this prick thinks he's doing.

"I said, you sure that's a good idea?"

"Fuck off."

"Ouch," handsome stranger says, placing his hand on his heart as if Bay has just wounded him beyond belief. "I guess chivalry is dead."

"Chivalry? What, you think you're doing me some favor? You see a girl drinking alone in a bar and automatically believe she needs saving? Well, guess what. You're wrong. I don't need saving. I need you to leave me alone."

Screw this.

"On second thought, forget the refill," she says, throwing down a crisp twenty. "Keep the change."

Bay swivels around in her stool, then places her hand on the bar and pushes herself up from her feet.

And then falls promptly on her face.

"Let me help you."

She feels the dude's hands around her waist, exactly where she doesn't want them.

"Get off of me," Bay growls. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"Yeah, that seems to be the consensus doesn't it?"

She manages to get up, but is still stumbling as she heads for the door. And, of course, it's raining.

"Fuck!"

"Need some help?"

Bar dude has an umbrella.

Of course he does.

"Look, I didn't mean to be an ass in there. I'm not some stalker; I promise. You just….you seem a little lost. And sad."

Wasn't that the truth.

"My name is Gabriel."

After a moment of contemplation, Bay responds.

"I'm Bay."

Gabriel extends his hand out to Bay and she accepts.

"It's really bad out here. Can I give you a lift somewhere?"

At this point Bay figures she has two options; fight fate or just go along with it.

Shivering, she points down the road.

"My motel is right over there."

Gabriel nods.

"I'll give you a lift."

Okay, yeah, this is probably why she should never have come to this place. Accepting rides from strangers was not Bay's usual go-to behavior. But although there was some wariness, maybe even fear, there was also a sense of familiarity and warmth emitting from Gabriel. Her gut wasn't pinging the way she hoped it would had there been real danger. Instead, it was almost comfort.

"I'm just warning you," Bay tells him as she climbs into his two-door Chevy, "if you're going to kill me, you might want to reconsider. Take someone who cares about where their life is going."

"I'm not going to kill you."

For some reason, Bay really believes him.

The ride back to the motel takes maybe two minutes. Gabriel helps her out of the car and they walk to her room.

"Want me to do it?" he gently asks when Bay cannot seem to open the door.

It's an old motel, one where they actually still give you a key instead of an electronic card.

Bay hands the key to him and he gets the door open.

"Here," he says, guiding Bay to the bed, "sit. I'll go get you a towel. You're soaking wet."

"So are you," Bay notes, but Gabriel only smiles. It's a half-smile, one with sadness behind it and suddenly Bay wonders if that was why Gabriel was here with her. Maybe he had just had his heart stomped on as well.

He returns with a towel and places it around Bay as she sits at the foot of the bed.

She feels safe.

Maybe Gabriel was her way to get over Emmett. Not booze. Booze wasn't the answer. She never thought sex was either. Perhaps she was wrong.

Bay moves in closer to Gabriel, trying to kiss him.

"That's not a good idea, Bay," he says, pulling away.

Embarrassed, she shrugs him off.

"Hey, whatever. Your loss."

"Sorry. Not trying to be an –

"Ass?" Bay says, cutting him off. "Because you are. Under normal circumstances, this is what anybody would think. You pick me up at a bar and take me back to my hotel room. I mean, what am I supposed to think?" And Bay realizes she's shouting. She brings her voice down to a whisper, "it's what most guys would want."

"Well, it's not what I want."

"Then maybe you can tell me whatever the fuck it is you want, because I'm too tired to figure it out right now. I don't need another guy playing games with me."

Gabriel stays silent, letting Bay vent.

"What do you want? I come to LA looking to start a life with you…" she stops herself. Gabriel is not the intended recipient of this speech. Emmett is. Sighing, she runs her fingers through her wet hair. "Sorry. I just broke up with my boyfriend. Or rather, he broke up with me. I must sound pathetic, huh?"

"No, not pathetic. Just in love."

Bay snorts.

"There a difference?"

But Gabriel doesn't answer that question.

"Bay, did you really mean what you said in the car?"

"Remind me again?"

"About how if I wanted to kill you, I should look for someone who didn't care about their life." Gabriel catches Bay's eye. "Did you mean that?"

She thinks about it for a minute. Then she settles on the easiest answer, "maybe." She doesn't want this guy thinking she's suicidal or anything. How can she explain it. "I just….I've had a lot happen to me over the past few years. Stuff I wish I could erase. Maybe…."

Gabriel probes, "Maybe what?"

"Maybe it would have just been easier had I never been born."

Suddenly, Gabriel walks over to her and kneels in front of her.

"Are you sure about that?"

What was he talking about? No, she's not sure about that. Or anything. She's heartbroken and drunk and rambling on about nonsense.

"Because I can do that, Bay. If you're sure."

Her anger is starting to boil.

"What the fuck are you on about?"

But Gabriel remains calm and steadfast.

"I'm not who you think I am, Bay. I can make things happen. Things like what you just said. But you need to be absolutely sure about it. Understand?"

Bay shakes her head violently.

"No, get out."

Gabriel starts to walk to the door.

More flashes come to her.

The genetic counselor's office.

Bay finding out she was not a Kennish.

Daphne.

They buzz in her head like bees, making her dizzy. She just wants them to stop.

"Don't you ever get tired of seeing yourself as a victim all of the time?"

Zarra.

Ty.

Emmett.

Tank.

Her parents.

Toby.

Regina.

Angelo.

Stop.

Please.

It hurts too much.

She just wants…

She just wants…

"Wait, Gabriel, wait."

He turns to her.

"It's what I want." Bay collects herself. Adamant, she says it again. "I want to have never been born."