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Episode 17:

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream


AN: This is a special episode, outside the norm of the typical CB chapters. This episode is all characters’ dreams. Or almost all dreams; the parts not in italics are real. Most of the episode takes place in dreams, however. The idea to do an episode like this came several years ago from Louise, who was then a reader and is now a member of the writing team! We loved the idea then and still loved it when it came time to plan out this episode with the Code Team. It gave us a chance to be creative and write something fun and different, and we thought it would be a good way for you to get some more insight into what is happening, has happened, or will happen to some of the characters. Many of the dreams are symbolic, and if some of them don’t quite make sense, remember them for later because they should at some point. ;) Enjoy the episode, and thanks for reading!!


Kevin sighed loudly to himself as he pulled his bloody gloves off. This was the second person this week to die on his operating table, and he didn’t like that one bit. Sure, the man may have been half-dead when he was rolled into his OR, but wasn’t his job to save people?

“Don’t take it too hard, Kevin, you did all you could for that gentleman,” Hayley said as she finished washing her hands, placing one on the back of his shoulder.

Kevin ran a tired hand down his face. “I know,” he said dryly as he looked out the window that was beside the door. The family was there, sitting in the hard chairs of the waiting room, waiting for good news that he couldn’t bring them. “I guess I should go tell the family now.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” Hayley asked as she took in Kevin’s worn-out stature.

“No, really, it’s okay. It’s been a long shift; you should go on and head home.” Kevin was pulling off his blood-covered gown; the family didn’t need to see that.

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem. Maybe we can get a bite to eat and talk about it?”

Kevin almost said yes, but then remembered he was supposed to have dinner with Elizabeth once his shift had ended. Looking at his watch, he realized that was almost two hours ago. “I would, but I’m supposed to catch up with Liz before I head home. Maybe tomorrow though.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Kev; I’ll see ya tomorrow.” Hayley gave him one last friendly smile before she made her way out the door.

Kevin pulled the cap off from his head as he slowly made his way to the family whose heart he was about to break. He may have done this many times, but it still was never easy.

+++

“That was over two hours ago, Kevin. Sorry, but I already ate… by myself, thank you very much,” Elizabeth said gruffly as she looked over a patient’s chart.

Kevin was taken aback by her attitude; she of all people should understand. “I had them page you to let you know that an emergency Lap had been brought up. What did you expect me to do, not try to help the guy?”

Elizabeth didn’t even look up from her chart. “Well, he died anyway, right?”

Kevin just stared at her for a moment. “I’m just gonna forget you even said that and blame it on the 36-hour shift that you’re in the middle of, and that I just finished. Are you gonna at least still come by my place when you get done?”

Elizabeth finally looked up at him and met his eyes. “Yeah, I plan to.” Her look seemed to soften a little.

“Just wake me up when you get there. I’ll make you breakfast or something, okay?” He let a smile cross his face for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her goodbye.

She wanted none of that, however, and lightly pushed him away. “Kevin, we’re at work.”

Kevin blinked. “I… ummm… okay…” He lightly squeezed her hand. “Until then…” Kevin slowly made his way out into the parking lot; his body felt so drained.

Once he got home, he jumped in the shower. The warm water cascading down his tired body almost caused him to fall asleep right there, standing up. With a shake of his head, he leaned over and turned off the water. Once dried-off, he wrapped the towel around his waist with a big yawn. He hated the 36-hour shifts; luckily, they didn’t happen too often.

Quickly, he pulled on his boxers and climbed into his warm, comfy bed. He was asleep before his head even touched the pillow…


“Wake up, sleepy head.” The soft feminine voice filled his mind. A giggle soon followed, “Come on, wakey wakey…”

Kevin let out a moan when the voice began to shake his arm. “I’m up…” His voice sounded extremely rough.

“Well, it’s about time. I’ve been waiting forever.”

Kevin slowly blinked his eyes open, clearing away some of the grime that seemed to nearly seal his eyes shut. “Is it already morning, Liz?” He felt like he had hardly slept.

Through blurry eyes, he saw her nod. “I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night. I was just tired and aggravated is all. Do you forgive me?” she asked with a pout.

Kevin smiled sleepily at her. “Of course I do; I know all too well how it is.”

“Well, I just don’t want you mad at me. Maybe this will help?” She then slowly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Kevin, of course, welcomed the kiss, morning breath and all; he didn’t care. He began to smile against her lips as the kiss grew more heated, more passionate. He almost let out a whimper when she pulled away for a second.

He felt her move her lips over next to his ear. “We’re still friends, right?” she whispered huskily. Kevin blinked in confusion; what in the world was she talking about? Her lips once again captured his heatedly, and he was forced to open his eyes. Red hair?? What in the…??

Alarms started going off in his head. Hayley… what was Hayley doing in his bedroom? Never mind that! What was he doing kissing her??


Kevin shot up suddenly from his bed, quickly glancing around his empty room. Reaching over, he turned his alarm clock towards him to check the time. It was only two in the morning; he still had hours to go before it was time for his next shift. Hours before Elizabeth got off.

Licking his lips, he noticed the tingle they still held. Had he really just dreamed about Hayley?? In that way??

“I must really have been tired,” Kevin said out loud to himself, rolling over and burying his head in his pillow once more.

+++

Josh punched in figures on the calculator and frowned as the number that had popped up did not in any way come close to the one he’d been hoping for. He hated doing the bills, and, just once, he would have liked to see the credit card company charge him incorrectly. But no, the jackasses were always right.

“Damn, bloodsucking leeches,” he mumbled under his breath.

When he heard the faint cries from the baby monitor, he sighed. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to stare at the bill for a while. He pushed away from the table and made his way towards the nursery.

He froze with his hand on the nursery’s doorknob.

“What the hell is going on?”

He didn’t have a kid. Last he checked, Kylie was only a couple months along. There was no way there was a kid in that room. It was obvious that his tired mind was getting confused because he was tired, cranky, didn’t want to pay the bills, and was anxious about the coming baby. That was it. His brain was jumbling things up and making him hallucinate.

Shaking his head at himself and deciding it was time to hit the sack, Josh turned away from the closed door and headed towards the bedroom. Kylie wasn’t home because she’d gotten stuck with the night shift. He hoped she didn’t overdo it because, as he’d often joked with her already, he didn’t want their kid coming out with wrinkles from all the stress Mommy caused him. He shook his head again. The joke was starting to get old—even for him.

The baby was crying again. Josh smacked himself on the head and shook his head, hoping he was really hallucinating from a lack of sleep. There was no way he was really hearing a baby crying because there was no baby in his home. Not for the next few months, anyway.

When the wailing didn’t subside but grew steadily louder, he gnawed on his lower lip anxiously. What the heck was he supposed to do? Open the door and see if there really was a baby? Maybe no one had told him that the place was haunted when he and Kylie were first getting ready to move in. Maybe a baby had died there a long time ago, and its ghost was stuck in limbo now.

“Maybe, maybe, maybe! Jesus, Josh, there’s no such thing as ghosts! Just go in the room and see what’s what. It’s probably just your imagination,” he scolded himself, trying to goad himself into opening the door. “Jesus, if one of the guys from work saw me, he’d laugh himself silly.”

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door…and sighed happily. He could feel all the love he had for his child flow through him and fill him up to bursting.

Josh walked over to the crib and gazed down at the wailing baby, its face scrunched up as it screamed its lungs out.

A grin breaking out on his face, he reached in and lifted the little boy out and, placing him on his shoulder, began to rock him. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s all right. Shh, daddy’s here. You don’t have to cry anymore,” he soothed the baby.

As the cries subsided and the baby’s breathing grew even again, Josh knew he had fallen asleep again. Careful not to wake him, he carried the baby towards the crib and stopped when wails filled the air again. Though he winced a little, he began to pat the baby’s back again and stopped again when he realized the baby in his arms was sleeping peacefully.

“What the…” Josh leaned over and looked in the crib again. There was another child crying, lying on his back. “How…?”

Knowing he didn’t want the baby in his arms to wake again, he set the sleeping child down in the crib and lifted the weeping one. As soon as he had managed to quiet the second one down, another’s sobbing filled the room. And then another. Followed by yet another.

Josh looked over at the crib and found three more babies accompanied by the one that had initially been awake. All of them were screaming. As panic began to fill him, he heard more crying and found another couple babies in a rocking chair. There were two more on the changing table. He noticed three more in the playpen.

“Oh, man, oh, jeez. Oh, god,” he muttered as he placed the toddler in his arms in the crib and tried to soothe the children in the crib. When they wouldn’t stop screaming and the screams from the others in the room grew in volume, panic had him nearly screaming. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to quiet all of them when they were all wailing like he’d committed the biggest injustice towards them? He wished for Kylie desperately.

Taking deep breaths, he decided to pick one, or two, to start with and go from there. Deciding on the ones in the rocking chair, he picked them up and tried to sing a song. When their shrieking didn’t quiet down so much as a decibel, he shook his head. What the hell had he been thinking, singing a song? That was Dr. Littrell’s territory, not his.

“Okay, okay. Stay calm, Josh. What would you do if this was an accident?” he asked himself. Then he laughed. Like this would ever happen.

When the screaming behind him started up again, he frowned down at the children in his arms. “Weren’t you the ones I picked up from that rocking chair?” he wondered, knowing the rocking chair was behind him.

He turned around slowly and tried not to yelp. There were two more toddlers wailing away in the rocking chair. As he looked around the room, he realized that, not only were there more babies in the playpen, crib, and on top of the changing table, he was surrounded by more on the floor. Every last one was screaming at the top of his lungs.

Knowing he was going to pass out from the sheer terror that was enveloping him as he knew, just knew, that he’d never be able to help them all, Josh tried to grab onto something to keep himself from falling over. In front of his eyes, more babies appeared from God knew where, and the stress had his heart pounding and his breath clogging in his throat.

“Help!”


Josh sat up, gasping, and tried to shake off the disorienting feeling the dream—no, no, nightmare, he reminded himself—had left him. What the heck had happened in that damned nursery, he wondered, dazedly.

He looked down at Kylie, who slept on peacefully by his side. Reaching over, he lay a hand gently on her still-flat stomach where he knew their child was sleeping. Thank God, it had all been a dream. Just a dream because, if they ended up having more than one child at a time, he was afraid his mind would be blown.

Lying back down next to his wife, he moved closer to her, keeping his hand on her belly. When their baby arrived, he was going to be ready. He would not panic as he had in that stupid dream.

“I’ll be the best daddy,” he whispered and drifted back to sleep.

+++

“Andele, andele mami, E.I., E.I., uh-ohhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight??” Justin sang along to his Nelly album, waving his arms from side to side above his head as he stood on his bed, using the mattress for his stage.

Britney giggled softly at his feet. “I just love your dope rhymes, Justy,” she cooed, her Southern drawl as thick and syrupy sweet as molasses. She batted her heavily-mascaraed eyelashes up at him. “You sing ‘em even better than Nelly himself.”

“St. Lou, representin’,” said Justin, even though he was originally from Tennessee and had never even been to St. Louis. He bounced on the balls of his feet to the phat beats of the song, until Britney shifted her weight on the bed, causing the mattress to jiggle. Before he knew it, he was careening over the edge. He heard Britney giggling again as hit the floor. Luckily, it didn’t hurt, and he looked up to find her hand reaching down to help him up.

“No more Nelly,” she purred, her voice low and husky, the unmistakable look of seduction in her pretty brown eyes. “This mami wants her sexy Justy to pop her tonight.”

Justin crept towards her on his hands and knees, like a tiger stalking its prey. He felt like a hungry tiger too; he was certainly hungry for her. He had a perfect view of her ample cleavage as she leaned over the side of the bed, and he could practically feel himself starting to salivate as he drank in the sight. Rising up onto his haunches, he leaned close to her so that his lips were right at her ear. “Gonna have you nekkid by da end of dis song,” he growled. And then he pounced.

“Ohhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhh, Justy!!!” Britney moaned throatily as he tore away her sheer camisole and buried his face in her bosom, his tongue dipping into the crevasse he’d been eyeing earlier, thirstily lapping up the sheen of perspiration that glistened on her soft skin. God, she tasted good.

“I used to dream about dis when I was a li’l boy,” he murmured into her breasts, realizing how lucky he was to have a girlfriend that looked like the centerfolds he’d used to ogle in his Dad’s Playboys as a teenager. “Nevah thought it would end up dis way…”

“I love it when you talk like a dirty black man,” she whispered breathlessly, her long fingernails clawing through his tight curls.

He smiled as he heard her sultry voice in his ear, her warm breath on his neck as she leaned down, her lips caressing his skin. He let out a soft moan, which quickly turned into a yelp of pain. “Ow!” he exclaimed, his head jerking up in surprise. He’d felt a sharp prick on the side of his neck, almost like a bee sting or a needle stick. She’d bitten him! “What, you wanna get kinky tonight, babe?” he asked, excitement starting to melt his shock as he considered the possibilities.

When Britney raised her head, there was a wicked look in her eyes… but not the kind of wicked he was interested in. Her eyes were suddenly bright red – literally! They were practically glowing scarlet and emanating an evil that practically caused his heart to stop. “What the fuck!” he cried, leaping back, away from her. He nearly toppled backwards off the foot of the bed, catching himself just in time and landing shakily on his feet. “Wh-what’s wrong with you?” he stammered nervously, slowly backing away, step by step.

Her eyes gleamed with seduction and sin, and slowly, her lips began to curve back, revealing a set of pointy, pearly white fangs. Fangs that dripped with a drop of crimson blood. His blood.

He gasped in horror. “You’re… you’re a… a vampire!” he cried hoarsely, his throat as tight as if he were being strangled. He raised a trembling hand to his gently throbbing neck and felt the beads of blood quivering where her fangs had sunk through his flesh. “Does this mean I’m a vampire too?”

Britney just arched an eyebrow, never answering him. Not that he waited long. Within a few seconds, his brain delivered the message to his feet – run! He scrambled out of the apartment and down several flights of stairs before he burst out into the cold December night and raced for his car.

He drove blindly, and in a matter of seconds, or so it seemed, he found himself sitting at the bar of a trendy club, the kind you saw on TV, not the kind you found in small, coastal North Carolina cities. And certainly not the kind impoverished med students could afford to drink in. Nevertheless, there he was, sipping on Courvoisier and feeling much like the pimp he often wished he was.

It didn’t take long for a hot woman to make her way up to him and slide onto the stool next to him. He turned to her, prepared to switch on the old Timberlake charm and make up for the fact that his girlfriend was now a member of the undead. But as soon as she met his eyes, a look of fright crossed the girl’s face, and she scrambled off the stool and disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.

He was too surprised to react at first, but before he had a chance, another woman took his place. Yet she soon hurried away, before he even had a chance to introduce himself. This happened several more times with several more women who came up and then backed away from him, as if he were carrying the plague.

What’s wrong with me? he thought anxiously. He ran his tongue cautiously over his teeth, feeling for sharp points, in case he was starting to grow fangs. But he felt perfectly normal. He couldn’t be… like her, could he?

He was distracted when yet another woman slipped onto the again empty stool next to him. He cast her a nervous look out of the corner of his eye, afraid of scaring her off the way he had the others. But he instantly knew she was not like them. She only confirmed his suspicions when she turned to him and, without blinking, extended her hand. “I’m Ivy. Ivy Hill,” she said, her voice low and silky. It had almost an eerie calmness to it, like the way the atmosphere feels right before the winds of a storm. And yet, he was instantly intrigued by her.

“Hi, Ivy,” he said slowly, shaking her hand. “I’m Justin. Justin Timberlake.”

“I know who you are.” She never blinked.

Okay, so that was a little creepy. But he was glad to at least have found a woman who would look at him, so he didn’t let it phase him. “Have we met?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. He couldn’t place her and thought for sure that he would have remembered her if he had. Maybe she’d been a patient at the hospital?

“Not directly. We’ve crossed paths, I suppose you could say. I know your girlfriend well.”

“Britney? She’s a vampire!” Justin blurted, and he felt the familiar tremor of horror that ran down his spine every time he pictured her glowing red eyes.

Ivy licked her lips, her pink tongue lingering on her dark red lips. It was then that he saw them – her fangs. “You are too!” he gasped, nearly falling off his stool. “You’re just like her!”

“No,” Ivy inhaled, shaking her head. “I’m not just like her… I’m a part of her now. We are one.”

“… What?”

“Beware… or you shall become one with me too…”

Justin couldn’t say why, but all of a sudden, he was terrified. His chest felt tight; he couldn’t breathe. His heart pounded rapidly in his ears, but above the rush of blood, he could just make out a faint cry, like that of a distressed infant. His own scream joined the other as Ivy reached her scarlet-clawed hand out to him…


Justin jerked and found himself surrounded by darkness. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, but gradually he realized he was in Britney’s bedroom, twisted up in her hot pink sheets. A dream, he thought with relief. Just a dream. He turned his head, and there was Britney, sound asleep at his side, her blonde hair framing her face in loose tangles. She looked perfectly innocent, like an angel, not the monster she’d been in his nightmare.

His heart was still racing as he leaned down and lightly kissed her cheek, mostly to assure himself that she still felt and tasted like the Hooters waitress he loved. When he brought his head back up, his eyes found the clock on the bedside table. It was just after 3:00 a.m. He still had a couple hours to sleep before he had to get up for his early shift at the hospital.

Sighing, he flopped back onto his pillows and closed his eyes, hoping the image of Britney with red eyes and fangs would disappear. He wanted to awake from sweet dreams to the sight of her pretty brown eyes and sexy smile as she leaned over him, begging for a quickie before he had to get ready for work.

+++

Melissa stirred as he climbed onto the bed, the mattress caving beneath his weight. Raising her head off the pillow, she looked at him blearily through a curtain of tangled hair. “Joey? What time is it?” she croaked, her voice hoarse from sleep.

He swallowed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. He was terrified she would hear the deception in his voice; he was such a bad liar. “It’s only 3:30, babe. Go back to sleep,” he whispered.

She grunted in response, flopping back against her pillows. A few seconds later, her muffled voice asked, “How was the graveyard shift?”

Joey hesitated a moment before answering. “Dead,” he said finally, smirking, but without humor. He couldn’t laugh; he was too tense, too afraid to let down his guard. What if she found out? Don’t start acting weird, dude, he scolded himself. Then she really will notice something’s going on.

But not tonight. With a few seconds, she was out like a light again, a sleepy smile plumping her lips. Slithering under the covers next to her, he leaned over and lightly kissed them, but as he did, his stomach did a somersault. He was kissing Mel… but all he could taste was Mariah.

He’d told her not to call him, but she had, earlier that night. Melissa had picked up the line in his apartment before he could stop her. Thankfully, Mariah was smarter than she pretended to be. His stomach had clenched when Mel cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and said, “Joey, it’s Mariah from the hospital.” But then she’d added, “She’s calling to see if you can work graveyard tonight… Shawn was supposed to, but she had some kind of family emergency.”

Joey knew that wasn’t the real reason Mariah was calling. Taking the phone from Melissa, he turned his back to her as he asked, “Mariah? Uhh… you can’t find anybody to work the desk tonight?”

“Not the desk,” Mariah purred, her voice turning much more sexual that it must have been when she was talking to Melissa. “I’m looking for someone to work me tonight… would you like the job?”

Joey could feel his face getting hot and was glad he wasn’t facing his girlfriend. God damn you, Mariah, he thought, groaning inwardly. He’d been annoyed with her… and yet, somehow he’d ended up in her apartment again that night, taking out his aggravation in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets and twisted limbs. Even worse, Melissa had stayed behind at his apartment, waiting for him to get home in the morning.

Why had he gone and left her? Joey didn’t know. He loved Mel… didn’t he? Maybe… maybe not. He cared about her, but… she didn’t make his pulse race the way Mariah did. She didn’t excite him to the point that he would lie and leave someone he loved in the middle of the night just for sex. But, any reason aside, he knew what he was doing was horribly wrong, and he felt guiltier and guiltier every day it continued. And yet he couldn’t stop. Mariah was like an addiction and he, the addict.

He tossed and turned, his mind alternating between lust for Mariah and guilt towards Melissa, until he finally drifted into a restless sleep…


A string quartet played Pachelbel’s “Canon” as she came down the flower-lined aisle toward him. He couldn’t see her feet beneath the long, full skirt of her gown; it was almost as if she were floating. Like an angel dressed in white, her wings carried her down the aisle, her veil fluttering delicately in front of her face, masking her features.

He took her hand, and together, they climbed the altar to stand before the minister and the Lord. The minister’s words were a blur as he went through the sermon; Joey barely comprehended a word until it was time for the vows. And even then, only certain phrases stood out.

“… do you take Melissa to be your wedded wife…? Will you love her… honor and keep her… and forsaking all others, be faithful to her…?”

He felt a stabbing sensation in his chest, but he answered, “I do.”

A few moments later, she whispered the same, and before he knew it, he had slid a ring on her finger, and a gold band gleamed on his.

There was a kindly smile on the minister’s noble, lined face as he looked between the two of them. “By the power vested in me and in the name of the state of North Carolina, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

He took a step towards her then, moving more on instinct than his own conscious direction. It was as if someone else were controlling his limbs; he felt like a robot. He reached for the wispy white tulle that covered her face and gently lifted it back. When, for the first time, he got a clear view of her face, he gasped and backpedaled in shock.

The beautiful face beneath the veil of his angelic bride was not the face of his angel at all. It wasn’t Mel. It was the succubus herself… Mariah.

No, he thought in shock, this is a mistake. This is all a huge mistake. I don’t love you. I don’t want to marry you.

He tried to say this, but he couldn’t get the words out. He just stood there on the altar, his mouth hanging open as he gaped at his unintended bride.

Mariah took hold of the opportunity and pounced, flinging her arms around him and shoving her tongue down his throat as she kissed him deeply. A chorus of shocked gasps rang through the church, but all of a sudden, Joey no longer cared. His heart started to race again as his arms snaked around the lacy bodice of her wedding gown and pulled her close, kissing back with a sudden burst of fiery passion.

It no longer mattered whether it was Melissa he was kissing or not, or whether or not he loved Mariah. All he could think was that he couldn’t wait for the honeymoon…


The honeymoon?! Joey’s mind seemed to exclaim as he woke up in a panic, the image of Mariah in a bridal gown fresh in his mind, the taste of her still on his tongue. He looked around wildly, but gone were the beautifully decorated church and the shocked faces of its guests. He was surrounded by darkness and twisted up in his covers, which he’d managed to pull off of Melissa.

Melissa…

She was still sleeping soundly next to him, curled up in a little ball… looking cute, yet sort of forlorn. Or maybe she only looked that way because of how he felt – guilty, like he’d abandoned her. She didn’t deserve that. She was a good person, far better than him. She deserved better. As he watched her sleep, he became more and more sure of that and knew that something had to change.

+++

Holli ran through the field, content, happy. The field around her shone with spring, colorful flowers popping up everywhere. Before her was her future, and a tall figure she couldn’t make out. Everything was perfect. She laughed as she picked up her medical degree from the top of a flower. She kept running further with joy, picking up awards that appeared on flowers along her path. Up ahead was the figure, holding his arms out to her with happiness.

A bright light suddenly flashed, blinding her for a moment…

She shrieked in terrible pain as the ground fell from under her and she slammed hard to the ground. Pain radiated throughout her body. Her legs felt numb. She screamed in panic. She tried to get up but was unable to get her lower half to work. The sound of a young girl’s laughter surrounded her mockingly. A pungent smell filled the air. She couldn’t breathe…


The phone rang shrilly, and Holli rolled over, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She sighed as the pain from her dream still ached within her. She answered the phone, annoyed at the early wake up since she didn’t have the night shift for once.

“Hello?” she listened for a moment before nodding sharply. “I’ll be right there.”

+++

Rita stood in front of the stove frying bacon, eggs and pancakes when Howie came downstairs, dressed in his suit and tie, ready for his day. Greeting Rita with a smile, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“Good morning, darling,” he said.

“Good morning, sweetheart… breakfast is almost ready. Did you wake Dani up?”

“Yes, she should be down any minute.”

Howie then took his seat at the table, where, as always, his newspaper was waiting for him. He glanced over it as Rita served him his breakfast.

“Here you go, darling,” she said.

“It looks wonderful, Rita. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it. You’re a surgeon, mother, the president of the PTA at Dani’s school, and yet you still have time to cook me and Dani a hot breakfast every morning.”

“It’s all in a day’s work, sweetheart. You’re my husband; I want everything to be perfect for you.”

At that moment, Dani came skipping down the stairs, her pigtails swinging from side to side.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she said cheerfully.

“How’s my girl this morning?” Howie asked her.

“I’m terrific, Daddy; today my class is taking a field trip to the zoo.”

“I bet you’re going to see-” Dani and Howie finished the sentence together, “-lions and tigers and bears, oh my!”

Dani then took her seat at the table.

“Here’s your pancakes, sweetheart,” Rita said, serving Dani. “They’re blueberry, just how you like them.”

“You’re too good to me, Mommy,” the little girl said happily.

“Anything for my best girl. Now eat up so Daddy can drive you to school before his shift at the hospital.”


Rita awoke with a start. “Dear God, I must be losing my mind,” she said, as she reflected on the dream. “Who do I look like, June Cleaver?” Needless to say, the dream had not projected her life at all.

Her breakfast on most days consisted of a Pop-Tart that she grabbed on her way out the door or whatever the vending machine at the hospital offered on a given day. She hated cooking and hadn’t fixed a decent meal for anyone in years….well okay, make that never. When the hospital asked what everyone was bringing to their annual dinners, she was the first to volunteer to bring the napkins or bottles of soda.

Rita at last lay back and closed her eyes, vowing that Howie would never ever hear about the dream. Then right before she fell asleep, Rita snickered to herself, thinking: Howard Cleaver. She would never be able to look at him the same way again.

+++

Isabel Rivera sighed, as she sat on her bed surrounded by different medical books. Her eyes blinked several times before she rubbed them, her curly brown locks tied back, with a few framing her tired face. She scribbled something down as she turned a page. She needed to get this case profile done tonight. She flipped open another book and started searching. She couldn’t let anyone down. If she got it done tonight, she could spend time with Nick tomorrow. Or would that be today? She glanced at the clock, 4:30 a.m. The young student sighed once more. She wasn’t getting any sleep tonight. A yawn escaped her as her eyes kept attempting to close. She leaned back against her pillow with a book still propped up in her arms. She skimmed the page, but not absorbing any of the material within. Her eyes begin to close once again…


She looked around as she walked along the dark path, unsure of where she was going. Her gaze could find nothing recognizable in her sight. Her mind pictured Nick and she smiled; maybe she could see if she could find him and sort out this mess.

“Your sister has gone on to great things.” Her father’s voice boomed around her, echoing throughout the area. Suddenly a huge back of bricks dropped into her arms and she grunted painfully, forced to catch them. She turned and looked around for a source as she stumbled backwards from the force.

“Dancing?! Ha, there’s no way you could make it in dancing…” Another load of bricks fell towards her and she caught it once again, not sure of why she had to do so. She stepped backwards again.

“Look at your sister and father, Isabel; you could be great if you only put the effort into it….”

“You’re not working nearly hard enough…”

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?”

More bags of bricks began to fall at her, with the expectation of her to catch them all. The voices became a critical, loud blur around her. There were just so many…

“You can’t do this; why are you trying?”

“You need to pay more attention in class if you are to succeed…”

“Isabel, you were never meant to be a dancer. You don’t have the strength.”

She screamed as they kept pounding upon her in a massive rain. She stepped back to slowly try to escape it. Suddenly she stepped back to feel no ground beneath her. The piles of bags of bricks within her arms fell from her grasp, and she screamed with a deathly fear as she began to tumble into the dark abyss below…

She tossed and turned in the bed, the books falling to the floor in the room. Her skin was damp with sweat as the bed sheets tangled about her squirming body, unable to escape the nightmare her mind created…

She fell, still hearing the voices. They were yelling at her now. All in agreement about one thing. She couldn’t do this. Isabel had given up her first dream to accept her new one of being a doctor like her father and sister before her. Now she was just going to fail. She was never enough.

“You were never adequate enough to be a member of this family.”

“NO!” she shrieked back, “I’m trying!”

Her coffee eyes searched about for something, anything to hold onto to stop her endless fall into what seemed to be a bottomless pit. She couldn’t die like this. No. Her eyes almost bugged out when she spotted a branch, and she reached for it wildly, barely holding on. She screamed when she heard it begin to crack. She looked up to see the top of a ledge above her, but it was too far to reach…

“SOMEBODY HELP!” she screamed in desperate hope that someone would hear. The voices continued to fill her head, confirming her doubts and fears.

“Isabel!?” she heard a familiar voice cry out.

No, it couldn’t be could it? “Nick!?”

“Iz! Where are you?”

“I’m below the ledge! Nick hurry! The branch is gonna break!”

“I’m coming!” She could hear him run towards her. She looked up and was relieved when she saw his beautiful, comforting, sapphire eyes, where she saw his fear for her within. The voices silenced at that moment. She could see a soft pale light coming from behind him. She sighed with obvious relief.

“Nick, oh…” The branch cracked, and she knew there wasn’t much time left. “Thank God.”

He leaned over as far as he could, hanging on to something beyond her vision to support himself. His arm stretched for her desperately, his blonde hair getting in his eyes a little. “I need you to reach for my hand! I can’t reach you on my own!”

Isabel stared up at him, fear pounding fiercely in her heart like an Indian drum. She hesitated for a moment before she slowly moved her arm while the other clung to the thick branch for her life. She felt herself waver before grabbing it again with both hands.

“I can’t!”

“You have to! I know you can!”

She shook her head rapidly at him. “I can’t!”

His eyes widened in horror, and Isabel felt the branch start to fully give. “ISABEL! Trust me! You have to reach for it!”

Before she could respond, it was too late; what was left broke in two, and she fell back into the darkness. All she could see was the pain and horror within his blue eyes as she fell.

“ISABEL!”

“NIIIIIIIICK!”

+++

Nick yawned as he crawled into bed from another seemingly never ending night shift. Sure, he wanted to become a doctor and make something of himself, but sometimes, he did feel the exhaustion that came with it. It had been a long night and he’d had to watch as they lost two patients. It wasn’t easy, and he doubted it would ever get easier.

He turned off the light as he turned his radio on softly; he never liked silence as he slept. Growing up, he’d used music as a comfort, and had he thought he had the talent, he would have gone on to be a musician. He yawned again and let his thoughts settle so he could get the rest he needed…


Nick looked around and saw himself in bright red overalls and the cheesiest cap. He hated hats and tried to take it off, but it wouldn’t budge. He ran along the brick path without any sure purpose. He glanced about, noticing that everything surrounding him was about twice his size. He skidded to a stop. What the-? A large bush-type mushroom, one could call it, stood in his way.

“NIIIIIIIIIICK!”

“Isabel?!” he yelled out, wondering what she was doing there.

“Nick! Save me, Koopa Holli has me traaaapped! I’m-” A fierce shriek could be heard, and then there was silence.

“ISABEL!” he yelled once more, before taking a step back, running as fast as he could and leaping over the giant bush… thing. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, which wasn’t very fast. He stopped, frustrated. He then jumped and winced when he hit his head on a blinking block above him.

“Ow!” he whined. He then saw this small mushroom pop out and float along the ground. His stomach grumbled. He wasn’t one for mushrooms, but still. He picked up the mushroom, and his eyes widened as he suddenly began to grow.

“Whoa, so this is what it’s like to do drugs,” he mused sarcastically. “I eat a ‘shroom, and then I get high.” He shook his head at himself and ran ahead. He had to save the Princess Isabel!

He jumped down a tube into a dungeon area. Maybe this was where she was. He hit his head against the bricks, knowing it was worth the pain if he got what he was looking for. Nick had finally made the connection a few minutes ago. He was Mario! He grinned when a bright flower popped out, and he chased it and smirked when he was able to shoot fire. He ran down the path, leaping from step to step when the bridge broke off in pieces, shooting at any turtle he saw.

“I’m gonna win.”

He raced to the lava, jumping from step to step. He was about to jump again but froze when the fireballs rose from the lava, almost killing him.

“Shit, okay, note to self – be more careful.” He threw fireballs just to amuse himself, and he snickered. “Okay, time to save Isabel!”

“HELLLLP!”

“I’m coming, Isabel!” he yelled, but jumped too soon. For as he finally saw the lovely princess, Koopa Holli threw her flame lines at him and hit him off balance. He grabbed for the ledge and barely held on. He got up and started attacking Holli mercilessly.

“NOOOOOOOO,” she wailed as she combusted into pieces around him. Nick grabbed the key and ran to his princess. Now she was free! He hugged her tightly in his arms…

“Oh Nick, my hero.”


Nick turned over in his sleep. A soft smile played upon his peaceful face as he rested soundly, knowing that Isabel would always be safe within his tight, warm embrace.

+++

Brian Littrell stepped out of the examining room, grinning as he heard his patient’s squeal behind him.

“Daddy! It’s a pink cast! My favoritest color in the whole, widest world!”

He loved working with kids for this very reason, Brian mused. The little girl had a fracture, should’ve been in pain, and, instead, was thrilled with the idea of a pink cast. He hoped it wouldn’t stop her from running around. He had gotten the impression that she was a very active child.

Brian dropped off the little girl’s chart at the nurses’ station and looked over to see Ivory Harnett hurrying towards the station, frowning and checking off something on a chart.

“Ivory?”

She stopped, looked up and around, then broke into a smile when she saw him. “Brian, hi! I was wondering if you were supposed to be in this morning. Guess you were.”

He smiled and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ve been here for a couple hours. I was looking for you, too.”

Ivory turned back to the chart she held. “It’s been a crazy morning. I think my last patient may be lying about being high off his ass when his car crashed into a parked police vehicle. I need blood work done on the patient in four,” she told one of the nurses manning the desk, handing her the chart. She turned back to Brian. “So, how’s your morning been?”

Brian shrugged and, reaching out, twirled one of her dark locks absently. “Gave a seven year old her first cast. Broken wrist,” he explained, seeing her frown.

“How’d she break it?”

He grinned. “She wants to be a professional ice skater, so she was practicing her spinning, and BAM. She fell and put out her hands to break her fall. Instant broken wrist.”

“Was she a screamer?” Ivory asked, referring to the children that often blew their doctors’ eardrums because they were in pain.

Brian shook his head. “She was great! She loves the cast because it’s pink. She’ll be fine.” He paused and was about to say something more when the ER doors burst open.

“We’ve got a five-year-old, male, went into cardiac arrest ten seconds ago!” Brian and Ivory heard paramedic AJ McLean call out.

Pedes, Brian thought and rushed over to the gurney that held the little boy. As AJ began rattling off more information about what had happened to the little boy, Brian looked down at the gurney and froze.

Blue eyes dulled with pain and shock peeked out from under chestnut locks. The little boy was small for his age, but there was something about him that jerked Brian’s heart. He looked up towards AJ to ask him about something and found he couldn’t speak. His vision suddenly hazed and he felt himself falling.

“Brian?” he heard a woman’s tearful voice call from somewhere near him and dizzily thought, Ivory. The woman’s face appeared above his and her eyes were full of fear, grief, and love. “Honey, hang in there. The doctors are going to take care of you, okay? It’s going to be okay, baby duck,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers.

Mommy? Brian wondered, confused at what was happening. Suddenly, his heart started beating loudly, irregularly, and he could hear it as though it were being held next to his ear instead of inside his body. What’s going on?

He could hear someone crying out his name repeatedly and tried to lift his head to see who it was. To try to offer comfort. There was nothing wrong with him, he knew. Except he couldn’t move. He tried to lift his arms, his head, and found he couldn’t move. Fear paralyzed him as effectively as whatever was preventing him from moving.

As a dark mist slithered around his senses, he could hear snatches of voices from around him.

“We’re going to have to put him in surgery…”

“His chances are slim…”

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s best if you begin funeral preparations…”

With a suddenness that left him breathless, Brian felt himself being jerked upwards. Knowing he couldn’t grab onto anything, he tried to get his breath back…and couldn’t. His heart continued to pound louder, louder, and the beats became increasingly irregular. He couldn’t breathe and felt as though there were a pillow pressing into his face.

No! God, help me!

He didn’t know how much longer his lungs could go without oxygen and knew, as everything around him grew fainter, as the voices faded, that it wouldn’t be much longer.

I’m going to die.


He woke up sweat-soaked, gasping for air, and found his legs tangled up in the sheets. His heart was racing as he tried to get rid of the dregs of the nightmare that had just taken him down memory lane. And not a lane that he had ever really wanted to return to again.

“It’s okay, Brian,” he told himself out loud. “It was all a dream.”

+++

He sat at a table in the Cafeteria, amazed at all the food in front of him. Platters were piled high with tacos, burritos, fried chicken, pizza, cheeseburgers, fries, mounds of potatoes with gravy, juicy roast beef, sizzling steaks, chicken wings...

He was drooling before he touched the first piece of food.

Everything looked so good, and it was all free!

Just as he lifted a large spoonful of mashed potatoes to his mouth, a hand gripped his arm. Surprised, he turned to see the hand's owner.

“R-Risha?”

“My, doesn't it look... delectable,” she said, her voice silky and low.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Man, and the best part is there's no charge, and it's all you can eat!”

“That's not the best part,” she purred. “And I wasn't referring to the food.”

“Huh?”

He looked closely at her, belatedly realizing she wasn't dressed normally.

She wore a very short white lab coat with black lace stockings covering her shapely legs. Shiny black stilettos, a strappy sexy style, made her several inches taller. Her hair was loose and flowing... even slightly mussed... instead of pulled back in its usual ponytail or bun. Her lips were hot cherry red... gleaming in the light, looking wet and inviting.

“Uh... isn't that a new look for you?” he asked, swallowing hard.

“It's about time I made some changes, don't you think?” She pouted. “Don't you like?”

“Oh, yeah, I like just fine,” he said quickly. Her sly smile sent his temperature up several degrees.

“Good,” she breathed. “Because it's all for you.”

“W-what do you mean?” he stuttered.

Instead of answering, she lifted his spoon to her mouth and licked her lips. Opening wide, she slowly put the spoon of potatoes into her mouth, then rolled her eyes in pleasure.

“Mmmmm,” she murmured.

“Ah, are... are you feeling alright?” he asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“Funny you should mention feeling,” she said, releasing the spoon. “You know, my job is all about feeling... nerves and sensations and responses.”

“Uh huh,” he said, putting down the now empty spoon. “Did you accidentally take some kind of drug? Because this-”

“Being near you, fantasizing about you, is the only drug I need,” she said, grinning. With a quick twist, she undid the top button of her lab coat.

“Look, I don't know what-”

“Enough talk,” she said, her voice breathless. “I want you, Chris. You're all I want in a man. Don't deny me!”

“Deny? I-”

He stopped when she ripped open her lab coat to reveal the few scraps of black lace that she wore. Her figure was full and voluptuous, which surprised him somewhat. He didn't recall her being quite that busty-

“Like what you see?” she said throatily.

“Well yeah, sure... who wouldn't?” he replied, feeling a flush of heat race across his skin.

“Good,” she whispered, moving to straddle him. “Because it's all yours.”

Before he could speak, she kissed him lustily, nearly taking the breath out of his lungs. As she extended the kiss, she boldly employed her tongue as well, teasing him with her obvious skill.

He broke away breathlessly, both shocked and turned-on by her behavior. He initiated the next kiss, hearing her moan in response to his manly technique.

“I knew you'd be like this,” he said when he drew back, leaving her gasping. “Beneath that cool, aloof and non-funny exterior, I knew there was a hot babe lusting after a real man.”

“You're right, I can't deny it any longer,” she said, trailing kisses down his neck in a flurry of passion. “Make me a real woman, you sexy beast!”

He paused long enough to sweep clear a section of the table. Ignoring the dishes that crashed to the floor, he lifted her up so she was sitting on the edge. While he began the next round of frantic kisses, he fumbled to undo her bra hooks. When they refused to release, he ignored them; time for that technicality later.

She wrapped her stocking-clad legs around him and he felt a tug at his pants zipper. With his free hand, he grabbed a chicken wing from nearby, taking a bite in between kisses.

“Tell me a joke,” she whispered desperately in his ear. “Your jokes really turn me on. You are a true master of wit and humor...”

“There were these three guys in this bar, see,” he began.

“Yes,” she said, her voice tight with passion. “Yes..”

“And the first one, did I mention one was a midget?” he asked as he tossed away the chicken bone.

“Oh, god, yes, yes, don't stop,” she said, hands racing across his body.

“Well, the midget... he says... ah... mmm, right there, yeah...”

“Don't stop,” she pleaded. “Keep talking!”

“The midget says, ya know, I once was in the circus...”

“Yes, yes, YES!”

He pushed her back on the table, reaching for the nearest scrap of lace...

“Chris? Wake up, dude.”

Why had her voice deepened so much?


“CHRIS!”

In a second, it all vanished... the food, the woman, the lace...

“Wha-? What the hell?” he said, bolting upright.

“Easy, dude,” said the face in front of him. “Man, that was some dream, huh?”

“Dream?”

“Sounded like a nightmare, you were moaning and everything.”

“What do you want?”

Justin Timberlake cleared his throat. “They sent me to find you. I heard you were doing double shift and figured you'd be here in the lounge catching a few.”

“Who wants me? I'm not on duty for... for another half-hour yet,” he said, squinting at the clock overhead.

Justin's face sobered. “It's about your friend Lance.”

+++

He'd been walking forever, constantly moving but never really getting anywhere. He stopped, more from boredom than fatigue.

In this strange place, there was a whole lot of nothing. No real sky, no horizon, no lightsource, no shadow. Occasionally a sound reached him, but it seemed directionless. His feet left no prints- not that there was any real 'ground'. Shouting seemed out of place here; he felt foolish the few times he'd tried.

Oddly, he wasn't hot, nor cold, nor hungry nor tired. The only thing he felt, besides boredom, was loneliness. Great, deep-seated loneliness.

“Where am I?” he asked aloud. “Is this a dream?”

No answer came.

He sighed. This can't be a dream. This is a... a nothing. A void. Dreams at least have things in them, people and places and sounds and colors. He looked upwards. There's not even a sky.

He turned around, arms spread wide. “Am I the only one here?”

Then, a thought.

Punishment... that's what this was. Punishment for something terrible he'd done.

He concentrated, trying to grasp elusive memories. There was a gun... his grandfather's prized Smith & Wesson .38 caliber handgun, to be precise. Standard police issue, given to him with great pride and trust. That was the gun he saw. That was the gun he...

He blinked.

That was the gun I shot myself with.

The realization made him gasp. Then, he understood.

“This is Hell,” he said. “I'm dead, and now I'm in Hell for taking my own life.”

A surge of despair and regret swept through him. An eternity of nothingness? Void of... everything?

“No, this isn't Hell,” said a voice from behind.

He spun around, startled. “O...Oliver?”

“Yeah,” the young man said. “I've been sent to talk to you.”

“Where are we? If this isn't Hell, then-”

“It's kind of complicated,” Oliver said. “And you're not supposed to be here any longer.”

“Where am I supposed to be?”

“You realize you tried to take your own life...”

“There didn't seem to be any other answer,” he said sadly.

“I understand... trust me. But you failed, you didn't die. A lot of people worked very hard to keep you alive, and you survived. Remember your visit with Stacy?”

“Yeah,” he answered slowly.

“You decided to live. You even fought to go back to life on Earth. And it worked, to a point.”

“What do you mean, to a point?”

Oliver bit his lip as he searched for words. “Your body's alive, functioning independently. But your soul, your spirit... the real you... is here.”

“But I'm... how can that be?”

“If you were dead, your body wouldn't be functioning and your spirit would be in the Next Place.”

“Hell?”

“Not Hell. It's... That's not for me to explain, okay? What I'm here to do is to show you your choices. You don't belong in this Between.”

“Choices? What kind of choices?”

“I'd rather show you than tell you. Look.”

A large-screen television materialized where Oliver pointed. A picture, sharp and clear, blinked on.

“That's me,” he breathed.

“Yes, it is. Well, it's your body. They're getting ready to move you to a permanent care facility.”

“I don't look so good...”

Oliver laughed. “Understatement, Lance. You look like crap. But then again, you're alive, and that's enough for those who love you.”

“If I go back, then I'll wake up, right?”

“You did some major damage with that bullet,” Oliver said. “What you see there is what you'll be until you actually succumb to a natural death. And that's years away.”

“So, what, I'll just... sleep? What kind of choice is that?”

“You'll be locked in your body, yes,” he explained. “Able to hear everything around you, even able to feel touch. But you won't have the ability to react. You won't dream. You'll just... be.”

“What kind of life is that?” he asked.

The picture changed.

“Your parents pray for your life every day,” Oliver said. “They hope with all their hearts that you'll wake up some day and come back to them. Even though seeing you as you are now brings them incredible pain.”

“But you said I won't wake up.”

“They don't know that,” he said. “They'll continue to hope and wish and pray. They'll cling to the tiny chance that you'll open your eyes and all will be well. You'll be the main focus of their lives for years to come.”

“And if I die...”

“There isn't a deeper pain than what a parent feels losing a child,” Oliver said solemnly. “Your sister's death nearly destroyed them. You are all they have left.”

He blinked back tears. Either way, he'd be damned. So much pain...

An image of Chris appeared on the television screen; he was going about his duties at the hospital.

“Your friend Chris has been by your side every day,” Oliver continued. “He blames himself for not noticing your troubles. If you live, at least he'll have you to talk to, to visit. If you die...”

“He'll have to face the pain and grief of my being gone, alone.”

“Right.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “What should I do?” he whispered.

“Only you can answer that one,” Oliver said. “Hindsight is 20/20... remember I made the ultimate stupid choice myself.”

He looked at his companion. “You're dead, though... why are you here?”

“This is my... my assignment,” the young man said. “I'm here to help others, people like you, to see things clearly and to make a choice. Eventually I might be allowed to move on. But I have a lot of making-up to do.”

“How can I decide this?” he said, shaking his head.

“Search your heart,” Oliver advised. “When you finally make a decision, go through one of those doors.” He pointed to where two doors had suddenly appeared.

“Life on Earth,” he said, reading the small sign above the left door. “Next Place,” he murmured as he studied the right.

“It's up to you, Lance,” Oliver said. “There is no right or wrong choice. Just what you feel. I've got to go now, so you can think about things. It was... well, I want to say it was good seeing you again, but I wish it were under better circumstances. I just wanted you to know that I appreciated all the effort you put into my recovery, back when I was alive. Your caring meant a lot.”

“Don't leave,” he said, reaching out a hand.

“Think about your choice,” Oliver said. “Do what's in your heart.”

With that, he and the television vanished.

It didn't take long. No matter what he chose, great pain would result; he was only now beginning to understand that. He knew what awaited him back on Earth...

He took a deep breath, and approached the door. With a shaking hand he touched the doorknob; despite his trepidation, he turned it.

He crossed the threshold and passed through.

+++

A bright light flashed in Risha’s eyes, and she promptly blocked them with her arms. Her mother was laughing and holding a camera. Risha jokingly groaned.

“Mom! I’m getting married, not going to the Oscars!” she said. Her mother walked towards Risha and held her hands.

“You really do look beautiful, Rish. Look in the mirror.” Risha turned around and gasped. Her mother was right. Her dress was a white halter with gold beads accenting the neckline and straps and along the bodice. The bottom was full and long, with gold beads scattered on the train.

“Wow…” she said. “Wait till John sees me in this!” Risha was one of those girls who rarely dressed up, let alone wear a dress or skirt. In the three years John and Risha had known each other, he might have seen her wearing a skirt about 7 times.

“Nooo! He has to wait! It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!” her maid of honor, Kimmy, exclaimed. She was holding a matching veil with a stunning tiara attached. Risha gasped.

“Kimmy! I can’t afford that! Put it back!” Risha whispered loudly. Instead of putting it back, Kimmy just smiled and handed it to her.

“You don’t recognize it?” she asked. Risha studied the tiara for a bit, but quickly gave it back to Kimmy. It was Kimmy’s Miss Illinois Teen tiara.

“No! You won that! I can’t possibly wear your tiara!” Risha handed the tiara back to Kimmy.

“Why not? It’s been in storage for seven years, and it’s mine to give. Besides, consider it to be your ‘something borrowed’.”

“Awww…but I’m already wearing my grandmother’s bracelet as my ‘something borrowed’…” Risha started twirling the bracelet around her wrist. It was a gold band with diamonds encased in little swirls.

“Well…that can be your ‘something old’. Now let’s see how it looks on you.” Risha ducked her head down so Kimmy could place the tiara on her head. She fluffed out the veil, made sure the tiara was secure on Risha’s head, and turned Risha around so she could see the result. Risha smiled, and Kimmy started to giggle. Risha’s mother grabbed her camera and took another picture.

“Here she is… Mrs. John Anderson!!” Kimmy sang to the tune of the “Ms. America” theme. Risha laughed and sang along, pretending to be a weeping beauty queen.

“Can you believe it? Two more days, and then I’m married!” Risha gushed while she spun around, getting the full view of the dress. She then heard a familiar buzzing sound. It kept buzzing and wouldn’t stop, even though her mother had answered her cell phone.


Risha woke up, startled by the buzz of her pager. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. It read 6:31 AM. Normally she’d be at work by now, but she wasn’t scheduled to work that day and had been looking forward to sleeping in.

What could possibly be happening at this time in the morning? she thought. Risha pondered that question for a moment, and then looked for the nearest phone. When she found one, she called the hospital’s number. After the phone dialed, Risha heard Chris say the routine greeting that she heard every time she called.

“This is Dr. Risha Veers. I was just paged a minute ago. What’s going on?” she asked. On the other side of the line, she heard Chris sigh.

“It’s about Lance.”

+++