Three Part Harmony: Alive
By Maureen

Music and lyrics by Pearl Jam

This is a three story arc which links the songs Alive, Once and Garden by Pearl Jam. It begins as the story of Eddie Vedder (lead singer of Pearl Jam) and continues as a possible outcome of the real events. While I based this story off what really did happen to Vedder, it is a work of fiction and no money is being made.

Three years ago

Son, she said
Have I got a little story for you
What you thought was your daddy
Was nothin' but a...

Jamie sat in the living room stunned. His father, father, had lived less than a mile away his entire life and he had never even known it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked his mother.

"I didn't know he was here. After I him I moved home and then moved here. I never looked for him again. I didn't want you to grow up with him for a father. Better no father at all," that she had never stopped loving him despite all the heartache he had caused her went unsaid.

His father sat on the couch, his nervousness turning to anger. "Now wait just one minute! I wasn't the greatest boyfriend! I admit that. I probably would have made a lousy husband. But he is my son! I didn't even know you were pregnant until after you had moved! I found out from that waitress at the diner we used to hang out at and I've spent the past fifteen years looking for you!"

"And you found me! And you found Jamie! Now what? You want to play 'happy families'? Well I'm not playing!" Jamie's mother was rapidly turning into a shrieking banshee.

"No! I just want to meet my son! Maybe get to know him a little! I'm not stupid! I know he probably won't accept me as his father!" the man claiming to be Jamie's father was able to match his mother decibel for decibel.

"Time out!" Jamie roared. He typically used his voice for singing, but this time he used his diaphragm simply to be loud. The room was silent.

"One, Mom, anything that happens is my decision and Mr. Phillips, give me your phone number. If I feel like calling you, I will," Jamie stood up quickly, ending any conversation. "I'm going out, don't follow me."

While you were sittin'
Home alone at age thirteen
Your real daddy was dyin'
Sorry you didn't see him
But I'm glad we talked

"Mr. Phillips? This is Jamie See you then," Jamie hung up the payphone a few weeks later. Even a crappy dad was better than no dad at all, he figured. And he was trying.

"Thanks for calling me back, Jamie," his father said as Jamie climbed into the small pickup truck.

"I don't trust you, but I don't want a screaming match like last time."

"You've quite a set of lungs," his father said.

"Why did you come looking for me now?" Jamie didn't bother with small talk.

His father pulled over to the side of the road and turned to look at his thirteen-year-old son, "I saved my money for years to hire a detective to find you. I had no idea you were in my own neighborhood. And I couldn't have picked a better time, really. Um...I'm not expecting you to feel sorry for me or anything, but I'm dying. I have cancer and it wasn't caught early enough."

Jamie snorted, only in his life would something this movie-esque would happen to him, "Figgers. How long you got?"

"Maybe a month. Maybe a little more. Not long. I ah...I'm leaving everything to you. It's not much, I spent almost all my money looking for you, but," he shrugged, "for whatever it's worth, it's yours."

"Trying to buy my love?" Jamie asked sarcastically, "Nice try but no go."

"No, I'm not trying to buy your love. I simply didn't know who else to leave it to. I don't have any other family. I don't expect you to learn to love me in a month."

During the rest of lunch they made small talk and didn't discuss money or death or love.

Oh I, oh, I'm still alive
Yeah I, oh, I'm still alive
Yeah I, oh, I'm still alive, yeah, oh

He died three weeks later.

Jamie was the only one who attended the funeral, although he couldn't really say that he was sad or would miss the man. He was his son and was his heir. Well, heir was usually only used to describe people who became wealthy from what their inherited and Jamie was still far from that.

He walked home from the cemetery alone, not really sure how he was supposed to feel. He didn't really love him, he didn't hate him. He didn't have any memories to remember, only a few lunches and a movie.

James Waite, the legacy of John Phillips.

Oh she walks slowly
Across a young man's room
She said I'm ready for you
I can't remember anything to this very day
'Cept the look, the look
Oh, you know where
Now I can't see, I just stare

Two years later

Humans can't control genetics no matter how much they want to, which is why they created plastic surgery. Jamie didn't have a picture of his father and only a hazy image of what he looked like in the short time he had known him.

His mother, on the other hand, knew exactly how her lover had looked back when they were living together. She knew the shape of his jaw, the black unruly hair that had to either be gelled or shorn. She knew the dark eyes she could get lost looking into.

And the she would look at Jamie and see it all over again.

No matter how hard she tried, she never saw her son anymore, she only saw her dead lover. The more she stared at Jamie the more she regretted her decision to leave him and the more she loved him.

I, I'm still alive
Yeah I, oh, I'm still alive
Yeah I, oh, I'm still alive
Yeah I, oh, I'm still alive, yeah

Jamie laid on the floor of the living room, flipping through the dirt bike magazine he subscribed to. He had decided to use the money he had received to buy himself a dirt bike and had been dirt bike racing for a year now. He wasn't terrible, but he wasn't great either. However; he was improving.

A shadow crossed his light, obscuring the text. "Mom?" Jamie asked, looking up.

She was wearing a red lace teddy.

"Um...if you have a date, I'll leave," he said, nervously. His mother had dated a little throughout his life, but she had never brought any of her date's home for the night or to meet Jamie. He never had a problem with her life, but this was unnerving. He had no desire to see his mother in lingerie!

"I thought you'd like it," she purred, not noticing Jamie inching away, unsure what was going on, "after all, you did buy it for me."

"What, mom? I did not buy you anything like that!" Jamie replied nervously.

"Of course you did John! Don't deny it! Or me!" she moved closer, trying to wrap an arm around Jamie's waist.

He scooted out of the way, realizing what was happening. "Oh my god! Mom! Mom!" he screamed, "I'm Jamie! Jamie! I'm your son!"

"So you want to role-play do you? Come to momma," she answered seductively.

"John is dead mom! He's been dead for two years now! I'm Jamie!"

She tried to get closer, her intentions obvious.

"Is something wrong?", she said
"Of course there is
You're still alive", she said
Do I deserve to be?
Is that the question?
And if so, if so
Who answers?
Who answers?

Jamie left, running over to his best friend Catie's house. He had no idea what he should do. His mom was going insane. Was insane. Was something.

Breaking down and telling Catie everything, he spent the night on her bedroom floor, shocking her parents in the morning.

I, oh, I'm still alive
Yeah I, oh, I'm still alive
Yeah I, oh, I'm still alive
Yeah I, mmm, I'm still alive
Yeah yeah yeah yeah...

Jamie followed the child protective services caseworker to the car, carrying a suitcase and duffel. Turning around he took a look at the only house he had ever lived in and sighed. His mother would be getting help, but at what price to him?

A/N:'s weird. And parts of it are true (no, not those parts!! :o) makes me glad for my mishuganah mishbrucha.