When I awoke again, I didn't see what I had expected to. There were no white fluffy clouds, dudes in sheets and sandals playing harps and flying around on gossamer wings. And worst of all…she wasn't there.

Instead, when I opened my eyes everything was all blurry and sounded loud, but like I was underwater. It was really bright, brilliant white and it hurt my eyes, caused me to close them again and moan. I felt like I had been hit by a truck, like I could barely breathe…was this hell? Was my love for Neela not enough to get me into heaven with her?

"I think he's waking up..." I hear a familiar female voice speak, but it wasn't the one I wanted to hear.

"Ray." A male voice follows "Ray it's Luka Kovac, can you hear me?"

"Luka?" I moan out, my voice sounding so tiny and faraway, scaring me a little more then it should. "What are you doing in hell?"

I hear a female laugh "He works here Ray, we all do…remember? You used to too…"

I frown and open my eyes again to see the blurry forms of Luka and Sam standing over me, the greenish walls of the trauma room blaring with the white light, causing me to shut my eyes again. I was at county, not hell. The fall hadn't killed me…unless my version of heaven was being in the ER of county…with all my friends…with Neela.

"Where's Neela?" I blurt without even realizing what I was saying. My head was all jumbled and cloudy, I had actually convinced myself that I had died, and this was heaven. But it couldn't be…not without her by my side. I open my eyes again just in time to see the awkward glance between them; shooting me back into the reality of the situation…I wasn't in heaven, or hell. That fall hadn't killed me…

Sam takes a breath and sets a hand on my shoulder gently; giving me those sad doe eyes…the same ones she had given me at the funeral, and when I had been told that Neela hadn't made it. I shake my head, tears forming again, glancing over at Luka who looks down at the floor.

"No…no there's no…I didn't survive that! I couldn't have it was…so high I…" I object, closing my eyes again with a sigh, finding myself seriously depressed now, hearing fate laughing manically at me in my head.

Luka looks back up and nods "You did survive Ray…"

Sam nods and smiles "Yeah it's kinda crazy…you landed on an old awning, it was sturdy enough to hold your weight…then you rolled off. Managed to get away with a broken arm and slight head trauma…your lucky."

I shake my head "No, I'm friggen cursed." I take a breath and look over at Sam, the tears had stopped, and I gave her the most serious look I could muster at the moment. "I didn't want to end up with just head trauma and a broken arm. It wasn't an accident, I didn't FALL off that roof…" I look away and take another breath. "I jumped…cuz I don't…." I shake my head for the millionth time, tears forming again even though I was trying my hardest to hold them back. "I don't want to be without her anymore…" I add with a whisper, unable to look either of them in the eyes anymore.

"Luka…" I hear Sam say quietly, followed by the sound of her pulling him aside. "What are we going to do?" I hear her whisper to him

"Our jobs Sam. Call Psyc down here for a consult. We will inform them of what Ray has told us and he will be held until he can get some help." He replies in a cooled tone

"We can't just give him up like that…he's our friend Luka…he's got problems sure but we can't just let him live out the rest of his life in a Psyc ward." She hisses

"What else do you want me to do Sam?" He asks "Take him home? Baby him? Hope that he snaps out of this? The BEST thing for Ray right now is to talk to Psyc, get some help for his obvious drug problem and HOPEFULLY they will be able to help get him back to how he was."

"But I just think…" she starts, but he stops her

"Sam, you are not his mother, he doesn't need you or any of us to hold his hand. He needs professional help. He's been using countless drugs; alcohol and cutting himself…he tried to kill himself! Nothing we can do will fix that."

I open my eyes and peek their way. Sam looked really upset with Luka's decision, but from her body language and the look she gave him next, I knew she was agreeing with him. I swallowed hard and think about what they were saying as I close my eyes again. I didn't want Psyc…I didn't want help. All I wanted was Neela, and the only way I would get her is to die…why was that so wrong?

I must've fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes next, Sam and Luka were both gone, and I was in a different room, a main room this time, semi private…I had worked on and visited so many people in this room…both alone and with…

"Neela…" I whisper into the darkness

"Actually, it's Archie." A male voice rings out, soon followed by Morris stepping into view, sitting down in a chair next to my bed. "But I am very flattered you think I'm that pretty you ol' softie you." He smiles "How ya feelin buddy? Heard you took quite a fall…"

I shrug and close my eyes again "Been falling for months now…just this time the pavement was there to catch me…"

I open my eyes again in time to see him nodding, glancing around the room nervously. "Well…I really missed you round here man…new guy they have to replace you is a real tool…"

I take a breath and say nothing. He sighs and looks down.

"Look Ray…I'm not usually the type to…be all mushy but…I care about you…really did miss havin you around…I mean, you were always like…the cool big brother I never had…" he stops and frowns "Even though I'm older then you…" he takes a breath "You just…you were the first one around here to treat me like a person, not just a nuisance…you would take me to your gigs and try to hook me up with smoking women. You were the first one to actually sit and let me talk about my kids and my dates…"

He takes another breath and is about to speak again when the door opens, and Pratt walks in.

"Pratt…" I say weakly "Your just in time to hear Morris tell me he's in love with me…"

Morris' eyes go wide "What? No that's not…" he looks to Pratt, then to me "That's not what I was saying Ray…like a brother I said like a brother!

Pratt chuckles and moves his head to indicate Morris to leave. "Your needed on the floor Archie."

Morris sighs and nods, rising from the chair and moving to the door, stopping as he reaches the doorway and turning back. "Good to see your ok Ray…you need anything, page me."

As he leaves, I call back "Thanks Morris but if I need a sponge bath I'd rather call Sam!"

Pratt chuckles again, closing the door behind him and walking over to the chair Morris had just occupied, leaning over the back, not bothering to sit. "So how are you feeling?"

I shrug "Like I jumped off a building."

"Funny…" Pratt comments coolly "Good to know you haven't lost your sense of humour."

I say nothing, turning to look away from him.

"Don't turn away from me!" he bursts loudly, I hear the sound of the chair being tossed into the door. He moves across the bed, forcing me to turn back and look at him.

"You think this is what she would have wanted? You to just give up like this? Push all your friends away to go join some poser band…get into drugs and throw yourself off an abandoned building because you miss her?"

"You don't understand." I say, pushing him away.

"Neela was my friend too…maybe I didn't love her like you did but I cared about her…and I still do. I still think about her everyday I wake up, and every night that I go to bed. What I could have done to save her, to help her…to stop those punks from doing what they did. Just because I wasn't there…no, that makes it worse. You were there Ray, you had the option to help her, and you tried. Me, where was I? Here? At home sitting on my ass watching T.V? While one of my closest friends was lying in a dirty street dying. If that doesn't make me qualified to understand Ray then you tell me what does."

I say nothing, glancing down at the sheets on the bed, trying to tell myself that what he was saying wasn't right; that everything I had done was justified.

Pratt slowly walks across the room and retrieves the chair, bringing it back to my bedside and having a seat, leaning forward elbows on the edge of the bed. "She wouldn't want this for you Ray. She would want you to live your life, try to move on and be happy…not dope yourself up to the point where you feel the need to go skydiving without a parachute. Where you spend a good portion of your young life locked in a Psyc ward just to get over her…she wouldn't want that Ray and you know it."

I remain silent. How could he know what she would want? He wasn't her; he couldn't get inside her head, couldn't talk to her now and didn't talk to her then. We were FINALLY getting to the place I had wanted us to be for months. She had moved back into the apartment with me, we had gone out and hung out…fell asleep in one another's arms countless times. The night she had died, I was going to tell her how I felt, confess it all, and hope to hell we could finally be together. And I know that was what she wanted to…with everything that had happened…the way she looked at me, the way she spoke to me as she began to fade…fate had taken her from me, and I was determined to take her back. I waited so long to be with her, I wasn't going to wait anymore.

I pretended to fall asleep, and soon Pratt was called to help on a trauma. I knew it was late, and I knew this ER. Things were starting to go slow. The day shift were long gone, home to their families…the nightshift were most likely gathered in the break room playing cards like they usually did, giving me the perfect opportunity.

I rise from my bed, head killing me, but I knew I wouldn't feel it soon, and grab my clothes that had been set nearby. I dress quickly and sneak a peek outside the door. Coast was clear, no one in sight.

As I sneak away I realize something important, Pratt was right. Neela would want me to live my life how I always wanted. I had a band we kicked ass…always wanted to be a rock star, why not start there? Make Neela proud of me…live life in true rock star fashion. As soon as I was free and clear of county, I called my supplier, got myself a nice dose of the good stuff, and then called my band. The time for these juvenile crappy performances in people's basements turned clubs was done. We were going to get serious, and we were going straight to the top.

I would stake my life on it.