Standard Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the lyrics of the song (located at the end) this is based on are of my creation. I'm just using them for some creative writing practice and I mean no harm with any of it.

Warning: This is an attempt at angst. This is not a Babe in a typical sense, nor would I consider it a Cupcake in a typical sense. I would consider Ranger to be OOC a bit here, maybe more than a bit. A friend pestered me to do this and even my pleas that I'd never written angst in prose before didn't stop her, if anything it encouraged her to pester even more. It kills me to write something like this but I did it anyway.

More than a Memory

Ranger tilted back the bottle of Jack, both savoring and repulsed by the final drops sliding down his throat. He chuckled without any mirth as he heard the sound of glass on glass as the bottle joined the others in the backseat. What would she think if she saw him now? The body hadn't been much of a temple since she said "I do" to him 6 months ago. He'd done everything he could to push her out of his mind, his heart, his soul. Nothing worked, but occasionally the alcohol was enough to let him sleep without dreaming, dreaming of what he knew he would never have now. What he'd been too stupid, too dense to realize he needed to act on to have.

Tank tried to reassure him that with time, he'd move on, that she'd only be a memory and with enough time a distant one at that. He'd forget what it felt like to have her near him, hear her laughing, feel her kisses, stolen though they were.

Ranger picked up his phone and pushed six numbers, then hung up. He wanted so badly to hear her voice, to have that connection with her again, but he couldn't. It would kill him to hear he was there or worse if he answered her phone. Some part of his brain registered that he shouldn't be in his car, shouldn't be driving with the alcohol in his system, and that above all, he shouldn't be here, sitting in front of her place; no, their place, hers and the cop's…but he'd had to reassure himself that she was home and safe, presumably asleep in bed. Running a shaky hand through his long dark hair, he sighed, disgusted with himself for giving into such emotions, such weakness. He picked up his phone again, pressing a single button this time.

"Talk."

"Yo."

"Ranger?"

"Yeah." This was a stupid idea; he knew it in his gut. But he also knew he wasn't at the top of his game and Tank had always had his back, had since their days in basic together.

"Where you at, man?" Ranger was silent. He didn't answer his best friend. He couldn't bring himself to actually admit what was going on. "Shit!" He heard Tank softly swear, "it's gonna be alright, man but you gotta stop torturing yourself. Let her become a memory; get her out of your head. I'll be there in 5." Ranger barely registered the final click which indicated the connection had been severed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept, really slept, not just been passed out from the booze. It wouldn't matter anyway, he wouldn't get any relief in his sleep; his dreams haunted him. Dreams of her, watching her blue eyes flash with determination when confronted with a challenge. Dreams of the sound of her voice, her laughter.

Holding it in a death grip, Ranger opened his phone and started punching numbers again. It couldn't hurt any worse, just to hear her voice on the outgoing message, could it? Again, six buttons pushed and he snapped the phone closed. This time it went sailing out the passenger side window, onto the lawn along side the curb where he was parked.

True to his word, Tank was there in a matter of minutes. He had Bobby with him. Bobby never said a word, just dropped Tank off and drove away. Tank opened the driver's side door. Ranger got out, stumbling slightly as he gained his footing on the pavement and walked around to the passenger side. As he passed his cell phone laying on the grass, he kicked at it. Not bothering to pick it up. He didn't want the damn thing near him anymore. All it did was taunt him, inviting him to dial her number, hear her voice, come up with an excuse to see her, be near her.

Despite his assurances to Tank that he was fully capable of getting himself to bed, Tank escorted him into the building and into the elevator. Tank motioned for him to use the key pass to get the elevator to the seventh floor; Ranger shook his head. "Fourth." Tank just barely nodded and pressed the button. Ranger couldn't handle being in the seventh floor apartment anymore. It was where he'd found her note, the note that shattered his world to pieces.

Ranger,

I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to tell you this in person. You deserve to know the truth of it from me -- I'm pregnant. By the time you read this, Joe and I will already be married. We're eloping. I can't take another Burg wedding.

I'm...I'm sorry.

I love you,

Stephanie

He got drunk the night Mr. and Mrs. Morelli had come back to town from their honeymoon and burned the note, burned all the pictures he had had of Stephanie. He wanted to rid himself of the constant reminders, the tangible things. He'd essentially moved out of the seventh floor apartment that day, after seeing her one last time, making sure he hadn't misunderstood. He'd held out hope that his desperate pleas to God, spoken aloud in his empty apartment as he pounded his fists into his knees had been answered, that she hadn't gone through with marrying the cop. He could have handled helping her raise the cop's kid, just as long as they were together, but he couldn't take knowing she was married to him, would never be his.

Tank cleared Ranger of all his weapons and sent him into the shower to sober up some. Cursing the Morellis under his breath, he took the weapons out of the spare apartment and closed the door, wishing he could help his friend get past this. To turn Stephanie into a distant memory and get her out of his best friend's head...and heart...

-----

The next morning, Stephanie Morelli was taking their dog Bob for a walk and noticed something on the ground. Careful to keep her balance, she somehow managed to reach around the growing mound that used to be a fairly flat stomach and picked up the object. It was a cell phone and it looked familiar. Opening it, she punched in six digits and then hung it up again. As she heard her husband coming out the door, she quickly placed the phone in her jacket pocket. She knew who it belonged to; now she just had to figure out what to do about it.

--------------------

AN: I don't expect this to go any further by me. I have given permission to the friend mentioned above to continue it if she so desires. She'd do it wonderful justice and I actually hope she does continue it.

More than a Memory by Garth Brooks

People say she's only in my head
It's gonna take time but I'll forget
Say I need to get on with my life
What they don't realize

Is when you're dialing 6 numbers just to hang up the phone
Driving across town just to see if she's home
Waking a friend in the dead of the night
Just to hear him say it's gonna be alright
When you're finding things to do not fall asleep
Cause you know she will be there in your dreams
That's when she's
More than a memory

Took a match to everything she ever wrote
Watched her words go up in smoke
Tore all her pictures off the wall
They ain't helping me at all

'Cause when you're talking out loud but nobody's there
You look like hell and you just don't care
Drinking more than you ever drank
Sinking down lower than you ever sank
When you find yourself falling down upon your knees
Praying to god, begging him "please"
That's when she's
More than a memory

She's more
She's more

'Cause when you're dialing her number just to hang up the phone
Driving across town just to see if she's home
Waking a friend in the dead of the night
Just to hear him say it's gonna be alright
When you're finding things to do not fall asleep
Because you know she waiting in your dreams
That's when she's more than a memory

People say she's only in my head
It's gonna take time but I'll forget...