Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing, don't claim to and make no profit, which really sucks seeing as I'm a poor college kid and some pocket money would be sweet. Donations are always welcomed. :D

Timeline: Takes place during 2x01; AU.

Black Holes and Revelations

Just do it.

Just say goodbye.

That's what Ethan Ward tells himself upon arrival at the Beverly Hills Beach Club, throwing off his stunner shades and letting them carelessly fall to the empty passenger seat of a candy apple red rental car. He lets a single silver key fall into the awaiting hands of an eager valet. The valet is grinning despite the beats of sweat that form at his hairline and Ethan winces, seeing the penguin suit of a uniform the poor guy's dressed in. It has to be one of the hottest days of the summer.

A man at the front desk greets him with a 'nice to have you back, Mr. Ward' and Ethan freezes.

The hotel staff treats him like every other summer he's spent at this luxurious escape for the rich and occasionally the famous. It isn't so much as an escape as it is a breeding ground for scandal and gluttony. The staff, with their inviting painted-on smiles, don't point out the fact that he isn't accompanied by his charming father or stunning mother, though their curious eyes tell him they've noticed. Ethan only keeps up the game, showcasing his best Herculean grin, but the second he turns away, all trace of happiness is wiped clean off his face.

Despite how familiar this all feels, how comfortable and in his element he is, Ethan can't seem to forget the trouble his family's been going through. He's always known the Ward family was a ticking time bomb, but it couldn't have chosen a worst time to explore in their faces. While he sat idly by in Montana all summer, his heart yearned to be in Beverly Hills, in summer school of all places, at the side of the one girl whose eyes leave him hypnotized.

Finding Silver is at the top of his list, but, of course, she isn't the first one he sees.

It's only appropriate that the first familiar face he spots is that of Naomi Clark. After all, she is the sun and all else simply revolves around her. She's the center of attention in all things she does. Currently, she looks pissed, arms cutting through the air as she yells at some older guy by the poolside bar. She's enraged and Ethan has a feeling it's something bigger than the hotel staff taking too long with her strawberry daiquiri.

It does make him wonder why Naomi could possibly be in such a foul mood. After all, she is finally free from summer school. Ethan's then reminded of all his old friends, specifically his old lacrosse buddies, who should be pretty pissed that he didn't spend the summer sweating it out with all of them, trapped in a classroom. He doesn't feel too bad, knowing for one, that he was too busy dealing with family drama, a fate worse than death, and also that people seem to forget to stay mad at him since they're all too busy hating Annie.

Ethan makes his way onto the beach and sighs, knowing he won't be seeing white sand where he's going. When he spots Adrianna out there, Ethan almost doesn't recognize her. He wants to spend a moment admiring her long, luscious locks and the way she seems to have just bounced right back after giving birth, but then he remembers his original mission.

Just say goodbye.

Because that text he sent from the airport makes him want to shrivel up and die. He came back to pack up his things and ship them to Montana. He didn't tell anyone, not even Silver, because he knew then he'd never be able to leave. Waiting outside the security checkpoint of the airport, Ethan started thinking. He doesn't want to be remembered as the boy who found something amazing just to turn away and run in the opposite direction. He isn't going to be that guy. Silver doesn't deserve that guy.

There's nothing he wants more than to break out in a sprint and embrace her, cradle her in his strong arms, dip her low like in those sappy movies his mother loves and Silver finds absolutely cheesy. He wants her to spit out one of those one-liners she thinks is insulting, but he finds rather endearing. He wants to kiss her till she's breathless.

It's then when he sees it. He sees them.

She's walking barefoot and him in shoes with a royal blue Nike swish. Her fingers are in her hair. His hands are in his pockets. Ethan watches from afar. And the next moment, her heels and purse hit the sand and her lips are against his. Ethan feels his stomach drop, his eyes widen, his heart break especially when she pulls back and she's smiling.

Ethan turns and walks away. It seems Silver didn't miss him as much as he missed her.

He's moving fast despite the way his feet sink into the sand with each step. He isn't about to cry or break something because he's a guy that can keep his cool even if Silver is the type of girl who's the reason behind the world's saddest songs and the roughest late night bar fights. He feels his fists shaking. Maybe love is just a game. If it is, Ethan's sure it isn't one he wants to play.

As he's walking, he spots another familiar face and the tangled web he weaved over the course of his sophomore year coils tight around his heart and squeezes with all its might. Ethan almost considers going over, seeking comfort, knowing she'd probably provide that comfort since everyone else in this zip code is treating her like she's the lowest of the low, even below the dirt beneath their designer shoes.

Sadly, it seems someone beats him to the punch.

It's some guy in a green polo that Ethan vaguely remembers from around school. He's smiling one of those potential frat boy smiles and Annie Wilson looks to be buying it. She's smiling back even though her life must be hell. They look to be having a moment and Ethan isn't one to interrupt or intrude.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Ethan takes off down the beach. He isn't running, but it isn't just a leisure walk by the water either. He has so much on his mind. He doesn't have time to contemplate how on these very same sands his mother helped him build his first sand castle and his father first taught him how to surf. He doesn't recall that Naomi, Silver and him scored their very first bottle of champagne and drained in beneath the stars at his parent's big ten year anniversary bash at the club.

With the thoughts raging in his head and bouncing off the inside of his skull, Ethan doesn't have time to dwell on the happy. All he sees is the women in his life and how they don't need him. He came back to say goodbye to the people he holds most important in his life, the people he always puts first and finally he sees firsthand that they never had him first. Ethan doubts he even comes in second.

He walks aimlessly down this stretch of beach, each grain holding a different memory of his past as the average rich, California-born boy. He stays out until the sunbeams fade, the sky turns black and the day comes to a close. He sits for a while, inhaling the deep scent of the ocean air for what may be the last time in a long while.

Ethan debates saying goodbye or not. It definitely promises to be one of the most awkward experiences of his life. How's he supposed to waltz back into the club and pretend he hasn't seen what he did? How's he supposed to pretend that he doesn't know what he now does?

Like a band-aid, Ethan tells himself and stands. Just rip it off quick.

When he finally gets back to the resort and sees the newly formed trio, Ethan almost can't believe his eyes. Silver has tears in her eyes which is surprising seeing as she had Dixon at the lips a mere hour or two ago. She has Adrianna at her right, rubbing comforting circles against her shoulder and Naomi at her left, looking as if she'd take away Silver's pain in a heartbeat if she could.

It's one thing to hear about Silver somehow reconnecting with Naomi and bonding with Adrianna over text messages, but it's another thing entirely to see it in action. There's something so natural about it. So right. It'd almost make Ethan feel somewhat better about leaving, knowing that he isn't abandoning them because the girls have each other to lean on. Almost, if he wasn't as upset as Silver looks at the moment.

"…I wasn't disappointed. I was relieved. Then I imagined what if it was Dixon…if Dixon moved across the country…I wouldn't be able to breathe…I can't breathe…I can't breathe…"

Ethan feels his jaw clench. Really? Really?!

He should never have purposefully missed his flight to Montana just to come here and say goodbye. He never should have let himself give in to the delusion that maybe, just maybe Silver and him could be something more. He never should have chanced it and ruined his friendship with Dixon. Apparently, love is just a game and Silver's just another player.

Ethan stomps off and he feels a pair of eyes on his back, but he doesn't really give a damn at this point. The next flight out of LAX is tomorrow afternoon and that leaves him more than enough time to nurse a hangover and spent some time with his mother before leaving.

Reverting back to the destructive fifteen-year-old boy with a divorcee mother and an absent father, Ethan easily lifts some booze off a table at some summer bash going on in the ballroom. After all, this is Beverly Hills. The partygoers are already drunk and happy and the hotel staff are too scared to say a word.

This might be his last night in California ever and he intends to get fucked up.

He doesn't get too far from the hotel when curls of gold catch his eye out on the beach.

"Starting the party without me?" Ethan asks. He comes up behind the one girl he's known just as long as he's known Silver. She doesn't jump. She doesn't startle. She isn't scared. After all, she is Naomi Clark. "I'm a little hurt, Naomi…"

"Get in line, Ethan," she barks without even needing to turn to him. Despite the way her lifeless eyes bore into the dark void beyond the water, Ethan's sure she's aware of his presence. His feet move in the sand, causing the grains to shift and touch her delicate toes.

If she wasn't so frustrated and so damn guarded, Ethan's sure she'd smile at him. He's always been the one person who can truly make her feel at ease and they both know it.

"You okay?" he asks cautiously even though he already knows her answer.

"Does it look like I'm okay?"

"At least you aren't dying, right?" Ethan tries to joke. The corners of his lips pull back in that signature, sexy and admittedly lazy smile that radiates such affection. He holds her gaze for only a moment before staring out into the dark, his arm extended, fingers wrapped around a bottle.

Naomi throws him a sideward glance before she takes the bottle without even asking. A moment is spent examining the label before she turns to him and purrs, "Cristal, Ethan? Someone knows the way to a woman's heart."

"Apparently not," Ethan laughs humorlessly and sinks down to the sand. Naomi doesn't follow. She remains standing and tips the bottle to her plush lips. Meanwhile, Ethan dips his hand into the sand, capturing thousands of grains in his palm and watches them slip through his fingers. That's how he feels right now.

It seems symbolic almost, considering he can't seem to hold on to anything.

"I thought I saw you back inside. Then I thought it was a weird side affect from the watered down crap Navid was drinking. What are you doing here, Ethan?" Naomi asks in a voice a bit raspy, lips laced with the finest champagne. "Word around the club is Ethan Ward permanently traded Beverly Hills for Beverly Hill Billies."

Ethan sighs. "We're past the point where I'm forced to pretend that's witty, right?"

"Ethan Ward with a backbone," Naomi teases. "What took you so long?"

"I came back to a mom having a nervous breakdown, a brother put in some facility and no one waiting," he muses miserably. Naomi's ready to interject, but Ethan won't let her. "Silver got back together with Dixon, right?"

It's like he can read minds. No. He just knows her that well.

"Followed by a break up not even three hours later," Naomi adds with a loud, boisterous laugh. "They're like a bad episode of the Hills."

Ethan turns to his ex-girlfriend with a half-smile. "Aren't they all bad?"

"Not the point, Ethan," Naomi's quick to point out in a sophisticated slur. She must be a bit tipsy because she collapses at his side, her toned, bronzed legs that go on forever folded elegantly. "I'm not worried about Silver. They'll get back together eventually. Apparently she can't breathe without his presence."

Ethan would have been amused by Naomi mocking Silver, but his mind is in a frenzy.

"GOD," Naomi nearly shouts. "When did our Silver become such a cheeseball?"

Ethan smiles gently to himself, remembering a time when they were his Silver and his Naomi and Ethan was both of theirs. It was a time before high school and pressure and hormones and stupidity. It was a time before the Wilsons came to town in a minivan and scandal tore them apart. It was the golden age where being a kid wasn't such a bad thing.

Realizing that time has come and gone, the two childhood friends turned lovers turned whatever the hell they are now, sit in silence and pass the bottle back and forth. It's only when Ethan feels Naomi's forehead against his bicep that he curls his arm around her and she leans into him. His lips brush her forehead in an affectionate and completely platonic manner and it isn't the goodbye he had imagined, but neither is he settling for less. If anything he is less and Naomi Clark deserves more. She always did and always will.

The bottle's empty and Ethan isn't even feeling the buzz while Naomi's passed out, leaning against him. Easily slipping her phone from her loose grasp, he sends a text to Adrianna to pick her up. He watches over Naomi like a guardian angel until Adrianna and the new blonde guy show up, hoist Naomi up and escort her back to the club. Ethan isn't too sure if Adrianna will be as willing to carry Silver and Naomi's shopping bags like he once did, following the two from one end of the mall to the other (and back several times), but if he'd want anyone replacing him as the third in the trio, it's always be Ade.

This is Beverly Hills without him.

Annie has completely forgotten about him.

Silver has Dixon.

Naomi never needed him.

Ethan stands alone.

As he goes to collect his car and head over to his mother's house to sleep in his childhood room for the last time, he sees her sitting out by the curb. She's dressed in black and that dove gray shawl is loosely clinging to her shoulders. She's holding her Sidekick with both hands and her expression is pensive at the very least. Ethan wants to think she's debating whether to text him back or not, but really, he's tired of the disappointment.

"Leaving so soon, Mr. Ward?" the valet asks. Ethan's eyes don't leave Silver's back and he watches her spine go rimrod straight.

"Yes," Ethan replies. "I have a plane to catch tomorrow."

"Your car will be here shortly, sir."

"Thank you."

Ethan waits. The valet disappears and Silver is yet to make a move. He wonders what's running through her head. He can feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He doesn't know what he's going to say. He doesn't think he owes her an explanation when he knows she won't be giving him one. He doesn't know if she's even going to acknowledge his presence at all.

She finally turns to look at him as if in slow motion. Her cerulean orbs are glazed with water and Ethan wonders if it's tears for him or for Dixon.

It's then that he realizes he doesn't want any part of this. He doesn't want to be in a constant state of paranoia, wondering if she's with Dixon or talking to Dixon or even thinking of Dixon. Ethan doesn't want to be in a love triangle because he's been there and he's done that. If he's going to do this move to Montana, this second chance, he's going to do this right. If he's going to leave Beverly Hills behind, he has to leave Silver with it.

"Hey." He hears her hoarse voice and finally notices that she's standing in front of him.

Ethan blinks. "Hey."

Why is this so awkward?

"You left," she says. Oh yeah, that's why. Leave it to Silver to get straight to the point. She does everything including point an accusatory finger. "You…you are supposed to be in Montana right now."

Ethan thinks before he talks, but he still says it anyways. "You know, you were wrong. Montana isn't actually across the country. New York, duh. Boston, of course, but not Montana."

"It might as well be," Silver snaps. "It's practically kissing Canada."

Ethan's about to respond when he sees her eyes glaze over. She catches him.

"Wait, Ethan." She takes a labored breath. "Did you…back there–"

"Don't worry," he tells her, pursing his lips. "I'm glad you aren't as disappointed as I am."

He turns to walk away, but her hand catches the smooth, tan skin of his forearm. It's almost as if she's draining him of his willpower. With a simple touch, Ethan can feel his resolve weakening. He tries to concentrate on her words, words that tore through his heart like a blade through paper. He can't go back. He won't.

"Ethan," she says his name, her voice choking with emotion. "I didn't…I don't…"

"I know," he says, saving her from saying it aloud. Articulating feels has never been her area of expertise. "Now if you'd let go, my mom's waiting for me." Silver doesn't release him and Ethan finally looks back at her, straight into her eyes, colored with such discord. Again, he whispers, "Let me go, Silver."

The ambiguity of his words seem to strike hard when her hand falls to her side.

"I'm not going to beg you to stay," Silver says resolutely.

"Good." Ethan nods. "Because it wouldn't work."

"Why'd you even come back?" she asks. Her eyes are screaming and her fists are shaking. "I think you made things pretty clear through your text."

"And I think you made things just as clear by kissing Dixon," Ethan shoots back. He hears the familiar purr of a car engine, but his eyes don't leave Silver for the most part. Regret plays across her face, but Ethan doesn't drop his guard.

It's then that Ethan realizes how complicated something so simple can get. He remembers how they were merely friends, people who shared laughs and advice and moments. He remembers aching to be more, but now he's aching in an entirely different sense. The only thing he regrets more than kissing her that first time after prom is if he never gets to do it again.

"I came back to say goodbye," he admits softly.

The corners of her lips quirk in the attempt of a smile, but it doesn't quite work. She has her arms folded over her chest and her eyes are on his shoes. A beat later, she asks, "That's it?"

And it's so illogical and so sudden, but Ethan doesn't really care. He swoops in with his large hand cupping her cheek and his lips meeting her lips that part with a surprised gasp. The lean muscle of his abdomen crushes her tiny frame and this is all so familiar, so much like their first kiss with his yearning and her confliction. He doesn't force himself on her. He'd pull away if it wasn't for her fingers through his hair and her teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

He kisses her because he knows, deep down, despite her words, Silver likes the feeling of not being able to breathe, of being breathless.

When they finally pull away and she buries her face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him for dear life, Ethan hugs her back and whispers, "goodbye."

...

"Piercing stare, outspoken, sharp-witted, breathless…"

Ethan finds Silver constantly on his mind, in his head. He's saved for a moment when a voice brings his train of thought to a heart-stopping crash. He blinks his brown eyes and realizes class is over. Before he can even think to respond, the voice goes on, "see, I'd think you had a run-in with the infamous Blair Waldorf, but the last part throws me off. 90210? Not the zip code for the Upper East Side…"

Ethan tilts his head to see the TA leaning against his table. He's alanky guy with dark waves upon his head and despite the smile on his face, a rain cloud of angst constantly stalking him around campus. He's one of those guys Ethan's certain his old teammates from the ol' West Beverly Lacrosse Team would have shoved into lockers and cheated off of back in high school. Around NYU, he seems like a pretty cool guy.

"Not Blair Waldorf," Ethan assures the only other guy in the room with a grin. "But I wouldn't mind an introduction…"

The teacher's assistant, Dan Humphrey, just gives the NYU freshman a pointed look with a, "you're just a kid" beneath his breath. Ethan doesn't really mind Dan's opinion of him. All that matters is his opinion of his writing. Ethan doesn't know what exactly drove him to writing, but it might have some connection to the way he feels when people praise him and he's not wearing a sports jersey, but does have ink smeared across his fingertips.

"You lost me at the third paragraph," Dan goes on. Ethan shakes his head from side to side, shoving his books into his knapsack with one sweep of his arm. "It was concise and almost descent…then not so much."

"Don't be jealous, Danny," Ethan lightheartedly teases, throwing the strap of his bag over one shoulder. "We can't all be amazing, athletic and talented like me."

"One, don't call me that and two, don't get cocky. Overconfidence to Ethan Ward is like alcohol to Hemingway," Dan orders with a stern look. They make their ways down a crowded hallway when Dan asks, "so tell me more about this piercing stare, outspoken, sharp-witted mystery girl."

Ethan raises an eyebrow, amused. "Who says it's an actual girl?"

"Don't play stupid, Cowboy," Dan sighs and inwardly Ethan cringes. It's the nickname most people have taken to calling him upon learning he's from Montana. Ethan feels his chest ache a bit every time. He knows he'll always be a California boy at heart.

Dan sighs again. "Mine was radiant, Greek goddess, hair like sunshine and freedom personified…"

Ethan blinks. "Doesn't sound like Blair to me…"

"I don't have time for this," Dan groans. "I'm supposed to meet a friend, not Waldorf, but an actual friend who I can actually talk to without having my head chewed off," Dan growls, pushing past a door and escaping the restraints of the building and embracing the essence of New York City. Cars are zooming by, horns are honking in the distance and NYU undergrads are heading to Joe's for a slice.

Ethan's sure Dan's still going on and on, but it's all drowned out. Not by the sounds that embody everyday life in New York City, but by a girl who has to be less than ten feet away.

Her hair isn't as short as it was the last time they've met, but it isn't extremely long either. She's talking animatedly, hands in the air and those glossy lips moving in what he could make out as, "Hitchcock" and "masterpiece." She's dressed for the fall weather from her leather boots to the scarf encircling her neck. Her eyes are as bright as they've ever been and Ethan feels as if he's forgotten how to breathe.

"You alright, Ward?" Dan asks with eyebrows askew. "I think the ever cliché 'you look like you've just seen a ghost' is an accurate description of your face right now."

Ethan resists telling his mentor-ish friend to shut up and starts to casually walk over.

"You're late, Humphrey!" Vanessa Abrams scolds. Her arms are crossed and her dark hair falls in gentle curls to frame her cheekily grinning face. Dan goes on to blame Ethan and Vanessa goes to encircle the college freshman with open arms. "How's my favorite cowboy?"

"Taking a verbal beating from Brooklyn over here," Ethan says playfully. He has an arm around Vanessa's shoulders and she has hers around his waist. "You gotta keep this one in line, V. He thinks he's F. Scott or something."

Dan grits his teeth. "Were you waiting long?"

"No, it's fine," Vanessa answers. "Silver here was just failing to convince me that Hitchcock is the greatest director of all time."

Silver.

Ethan might have thought he was seeing things, but the moment her name leaves Vanessa's lips, he's sure this is real. He angles himself slightly, looking around Vanessa and at the other girl beside him. If he didn't already know it'd freak her out (or anyone for that matter), Ethan would reach out and touch her just to completely confirm that she's actually here, in New York, at NYU, standing a mere thirteen inches away.

There's a taunting smile on Silver's lips. "Cowboy, huh? I, for one, still prefer Jock Boy."

Dan and Vanessa trade curious expressions. Ethan and Silver find themselves trapped in a shared gaze.

"You two know each other?" Vanessa asks.

"90210?" comes Dan's voice. That's when Ethan manages to tear his gaze away from Silver and look over at Dan. Seeing the newfound fire in Ethan's young eyes, something he's read books and poems about, but hardly had a chance to see, Dan only laughs and lets his hands fall to Vanessa's shoulders. "Well, we, uh, need to go now. You two have fun, catching up or whatever. C'mon, Abrams, you owe me a cup of coffee."

"And I thought chivalry was dead," Vanessa says sarcastically. Before being dragged away by Dan, the film student flashes a smile at the two college freshmen. "I'll see you around, guys."

"See yah," Ethan mimics and lazily waves. He watches the two, quarreling as they walk, until they've become one with the sea of people swimming the NYU campus with its bold purple flags flapping in the breeze. Ethan then focuses on Silver who returns his gaze with those absolutely smoldering cerulean eyes. "So you're a film major, right?"

"How ever did you guess?" Silver asks with mock shock. Her exaggerated expression softens into a smile and her eyes shine with curiosity. "What about you? I didn't know NYU offers a Bachelors Degree in roping cattle."

"Ha ha," he says dryly. "English major, actually. "I, um, I'm looking into writing."

"Hmm, seems appropriate," Silver muses, arms crossed and foot fidgeting. "You always wrote Naomi those totally lame love letters in middle school. Surprisingly they were a lot less cheesy than your jokes."

"Wow, today you and your sparkling personally are just hitting them out of the park, huh?" Ethan asks. He can feel his cheeks ache from the massive grin he's sporting. He can't remember the last time he smiled this much. "It's nice to see some things won't ever change."

"So what do you say about proving that chivalry isn't dead and buying me coffee?" Silver proposes. "We can talk because I know you're just dying to hear about how sickeningly in love Naomi and Liam are and Ade's latest drama and, oh, Dixon and Annie both completely vanishing from the face of the earth after graduation."

Ethan's lips part to accept her challenge, but then he glances at the screen of his cell phone and winces. He looks up at Silver with an apology written in his eyes and her face is clearly colored with disappointment.

"…or not."

"I actually have class in fifteen," Ethan explains. "No. It's okay. It won't kill me to skip it."

Silver laughs and Ethan's head tilts to the side as he stares at her quizzically. "We were on the outskirts of a party that one night, in the alley, I told you about St. Claire's and you told me about skipping English and now you're an English major. Oh the irony."

"You remember all that?" A smile teases the corner of Ethan's lips. He takes a bold step towards her and Silver tries not to notice. "That must mean you really care, huh, even back then?"

"Just get to class, Jock Boy," she orders, rolling her eyes.

"It's only an hour," Ethan explains. "You think you can find something to occupy your time till then? If you do then I'll buy you coffee after. Hey, and maybe if you're lucky I'll even open the door for you and walk you to wherever you're headed next."

"My hero," Silver says wryly.

"So you'll wait this time?" Ethan asks. He holds his breath in anticipation, almost afraid of how she'll answer. Her expression appears thoughtful for a moment, but then a wicked smile takes over her features and somehow the space between them has become nonexistent. Silver leans up and captures his lips with hers and it feels something like, I've been waiting, you idiot.

The moment they break apart, before Silver can even take a breath, Ethan pulls her lips back to his because he knows she enjoys being just as breathless as she makes him.

Fin

Author's note: It's interesting what you can find cleaning off your USB. This story feels really dated because the show's in a totally different universe now, but I figured I wrote it (what feels like a million years ago) so I might as well post it.

Now that I've had what feels like an eternity to get over them dumping Ethan and as nice as some closure would have been (not just a text message) it's kind of good that it ended there. The writers probably would have ruined the pairing for me anyways. I won't judge you if you've jumped the Teddy/Silver ship, but Ethan/Silver will always have my heart.

I'm sure you can make creative links between the title and the story, but to be honest, it is only what it is because I saw MUSE live last Saturday and I'm still smiling.

Anyways, review?