I guess I've kept you all in suspense long enough . . .

I own nothing. The Almighty Larson owns it all.

"No!" I scream, running to Collins' bedside. I shake him. "You can't die! You just can't!" I look to the doctor. He still has the paddles in his hands. The continuos beep has stopped. Nancy reaches for Collins' wrist.

"Call it," the doctor tells her sadly.

"No!" I cry. "He can't die! Do something! Use the paddles again!"

"It won't do any good. He's de-"

"I've got a pulse!" Nancy exclaims.

"Recharge," the doctor says. The other nurse moves me away from Collins. I stand at the end of it and watch, silently praying Collins will pull through. Nancy pushes a button on the cart. "Clear." The paddles are pressed to Collins' chest again. His limp body moves slightly. The heart monitor's continuous beep comes back for four long seconds. The beep is the only sound in the room.

"Come on, Collins," I whisper. "Live, dammit, live." The heart monitor suddenly begins beeping at a steady pace again. I let out a sigh of relief and slowly walk toward the bed.

"Nurse, stay with him, please," the doctor tells Nancy. He and the other nurse leave the room. I make my way to the side of Collins' bed. I stare at my unconscious friend's face. I gasp softly as his eyes slowly open. He looks at me.

"Collins," I say gently, "if you ever scare me like that again, I will kill you." Collins gives a small smile and I take his hand in mine.

I sit by Collins' bedside and stare at the IV in his arm as it slowly drips. It's been six weeks since he almost died. I no longer have to wear a sling on my arm (I still have a cast on it) and Collins has been taken out of the Intensive Care Unit. He has a new room that is still private. I spend most of my time in his room, mostly because I've been paranoid that he would die at any given moment. His stomach growls.

"How does it feel to know you can finally eat solid food?" I ask him.

"Pretty damn good," he replies with a smile. We share a laugh. "Thanks for carin' about me, Rog. It means more to me than you know." I smile at him.

"Anytime," I reply. "You called me 'Rog.' Does that mean I can call you 'Col' now?"

"Hell no." I frown slightly. "'Rog' sounds so much better than 'Col.' You know it does." I think about the two names for a moment.

"Yeah, I can't argue with you there," I say. Nancy then rolls a tray into the room. There are two plates of food on it. One for me and one for Collins. I take my plate off of the tray and set it on my lap. Collins keeps his plate on the tray. I've learned throughout the time we've been in the hospital together that he's a vegetarian and I'm the only person besides his old boyfriend that he's come out to.

After we eat our food, Nancy returns to the room to take the dirty dishes away.

"Roger, your friends are here to see you," she tells me as she takes my plate from me. "I'll bring them in once I get rid of these dishes." She places the plate on the tray and rolls it out of the room. About five minutes later, the door opens again and April, Mark, and Maureen file into the room. Nancy and two other nurses then enter the room with three chairs.

"Hey, Roger," Mark says while the nurses place the chairs in a line. He sits down in one of them as the nurses leave.

"Hey, babe," April says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. She then moves one of the empty chairs next to my chair and sits down. Maureen practically skips over to the side of Collins' bed.

"Hi, Collins!" she exclaims. She plants a noisy kiss on Collins' forehead. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm feelin' better, Maureen," Collins replies, chuckling.

"Good." Maureen kisses Collins' forehead again and Mark stands up. She has yet to greet me.

"Hi there, Maureen," I say. I receive a small wave. I roll my eyes and Collins laughs. I'm glad that he and Maureen are friends now, but I'm not so thrilled about being cast aside. Maureen grabs Collins' hand and Mark pulls her away from him.

"Maureen, do you have to flirt with everyone?" Mark asks. Maureen rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Stop being so dramatic," she tells him. "I wasn't flirting with him. Even if he is really cute." Maureen winks at Collins, who chuckles and shakes his head.

"You're doing it again!" Mark shouts.

"I'm just being friendly, Pookie. No need to get upset."

"No need to get upset? Are you kidding me? You do this to me all the time!"

"Mark, calm down. If it bothers you that much, I'll try to stop being so friendly."

"Is that what they call it these days?" April interjects. She and I share a laugh as she grabs my hand.

"Kiss, Pookie?" Maureen says to Mark, completely ignoring April. Mark sighs and Maureen gives him a peck on the lips. The two of them then sit down.

"So, is Benny coming today?" I say in an attempt to change the subject.

"No," Mark says. "He said he's gonna come tomorrow. He's-"

"He'd rather hang out with his stupid, rich girlfriend than come see his best friend in the hospital!" Maureen interrupts. She folds her arms and scowls at the floor. "Stupid fuck . . ."

"Maureen, it's fine with me if he wants to spend time with his girlfriend," I assure her. She needs to calm down. It's a scary sight when Maureen Johnson gets mad at anything or anyone.

"He's still a stupid fuck." Mark rolls his eyes as a man I've never seen before walks into the room. He is wearing a suit and tie and has a somewhat sad look on his face. He glances at everyone in the room as he makes his way to Collins' bedside. He looks as if he's trying to decide whether or not he should speak.

"How are you feeling, Tom?" he asks. Well, now I know Collins' first name. Wait . . . he's named after a drink?

"I'm feelin' alright," Collins replies.

"Good, good. I assume the doctors and nurses have been taking good care of you."

"What're you doin' here, Steve?" Collins voice sounds a little annoyed. "Are you here to tell me I don't get my appeal or somethin'?" I conclude that this Steve person is Collins' lawyer. Steve is quiet for a moment, undoubtedly trying to choose his words carefully.

"I honestly wish that's why I was here," he finally says in a soft voice. I take a look at the worried expression on Collins' face and instantly become concerned. "Tom . . . I have some good news . . . and I have some bad news. Now, I'll give you the good news fir-"

"I want the bad news first," Collins interrupts.

"Tom . . . are you sure?" Collins simply nods. "Well . . . one of the girls who r-"

"Don't say it," Collins interjects quickly.

"I'm sorry. One of the girls who . . . attacked you came to my office a few days ago and she asked about you."

"What the fuck did she ask about me for?"

"She told me she feels terrible about what happened." Collins looks away from Steve. "And at the time it happened, she needed money to pay her drug dealer and she didn't care where it came from. She would've been killed if she didn't come up with it."

"I don't give a shit!" Collins' attention is back on Steve. He has an angry expression on his face. "She could've gotten the money some other way! She didn't have to . . ." Collins stops himself in mid sentence and takes a deep breath. "Go on."

"She also told me she hasn't slept much since it happened because of the guilt," Steve continues. He then places a hand on Collins' shoulder. "Part of her guilt is from knowing what she did to you, but the majority of it is from . . . knowing she was HIV positive when it happened."

My eyes widen and Collins stares at Steve in disbelief. It's dead silent for a moment.

"I . . . I have . . . HIV?" Collins asks. He looks like he's about to cry.

"No . . . you have AIDS." Collins winces as if he's been punched in the stomach. He looks away from Steve again and shrugs his hand off of his shoulder. "I checked with a doctor when I came here. The HIV went unnoticed for too long, Tom. I'm so sorry."

"What's . . . the good news?" Collins voice is just above a whisper.

"I shared this information with Warden Alan Harris and the judge that sentenced you to prison. They both agreed they don't want you to . . . die in prison." Collins looks back at Steve.

"What are you sayin'?" he asks. Steve places his hand on Collins' shoulder again.

"You're free, Tom."

Review my sad chapter please.

Random question: Should I make a sequel to this story?