I had an amazing dream as I slept there—not like the Cyberland dream, no sign of Elsie this time. However, I did see Angel. While I call this a dream, it was the most real experience I think that I have ever had in my life. We were sitting on a bench in some park that I didn't recognize, but it was beautiful, and I felt perfectly safe and comfortable, and it felt like she had never left us—it was just so natural. Despite my all of my confusion regarding the past several days, I felt very calm and clear-headed as she looked seep into my soul, her face showing her complete understanding and love. She really must have been watching over me, because she knew everything that happened without me saying so much as a word.

"Angel…I don't know what to do. I'm so torn. But I love Joanne. I need her"

"I'm glad to see that you realize that honey, instead of your old 'Maureen Johnson needs no one' attitude. I saw right through that, and so did Collins. The others are relieved to see that you have started feeling, Roger in particular. But he would never tell you as much, I'm sure."

"It's amazing that it feels as though you never left…despite the hospital and those awful months before your death…"

"Darling, that is because I have been watching. And listening. It seems that I am confided in more now than I ever was when I was alive. Our relationship didn't end. It just changed. Nothing ever dies; it only takes on another form. Even love. For instance…with one of your two lovers, the passion will remain, in a platonic state. All you have to do is choose."

"I already have. I want Joanne. I need Joanne. Marky will always be the father of my child, and my best friend, but Joanne is my lover. My partner." My wife. In every way that matters, anyway, so fuck the law.

"Well, my darling, I know that that girl will come back to you. But I can't guarantee that you won't lose her again, or even tell you how long you have left, but go get your woman." I awoke with a start at that statement, jolting into an upright position, which woke Mark, whose lap I had been sleeping on, apparently.

"You okay honey?" He inquired, groggily, though still hopelessly concerned for my well-being. Adorable boy that he was…still a boy in his mid-thirties, he would make a great father. I wished that I hadn't hurt him in the first place, but this relationship was a blessing. I was about to tell him that I was okay, and share my dream with him, but my insides shifted, and I made a mad dash to the bathroom. The loving, darling boy that he was, he followed me to the bathroom, and despite his better judgment and embarrassment (which I could tell since he delayed a little at the door), her followed me into the ladies room. He held back for a moment as I puked my guts out (the joys of pregnancy abound, I assure you), unsure as to his place, not wanting to overstep, but as I writhed on the floor in front of the toilet with the worst bout of sickness that I had yet had, he held my wild, rebellious curls and rubbed my back. When I finished, I fell back to the floor, weak and lightheaded, unable to lift myself from the floor, sweating and shaking. Mark stood up, and, afraid that he was leaving I reached out my hand, and, still shaking, gripped his wrist fiercely, looking into his eyes.

"Maureen, sweetie, I'll be right back. I promise. I'm not going anywhere." I released his arm, still scared though not quite sure why, and, sensing my anxiety, he bent over, stroking my hair, "Maureen, I will never leave you," and he kissed my forehead. Wow, he must really love me to kiss me and tend to me in this icky state. True to his word, he returned to the stall in less than a minute with a damp paper towel which he held behind my neck after first mopping my forehead. Eventually, he discarded the towel in the toilet, and just held me, caressing my aching body.

"Sweetie…I don't think that was normal. It was so much worse than usual, Mo. I think you should get that checked out. Have you even met with a doctor yet?" His voice was so soft, his brow furrowed, his eyes weren't accusing as I expected, but pleading. Something deep within me melted, but my hardened exterior was somehow in control again. Oh how I love those mood swings.

"Mark, are you serious? A doctor?" My voice was very loud and shrill, very characteristic of, well, me, however it sounded completely out of line, especially given his sincere, heart-felt concern. I saw that my response had hurt him. I apologized, retracting my statement, instead simply confiding that I didn't like doctors and had very bad experiences with them, shuddering as I remembered my first gynecologist. I had only gone once, but he had scarred me enough that I never went to any type of doctor until the psychologist that I had been seeing recently. I didn't tell Mark my reasons, just that I was afraid.

"It's perfectly alright to be afraid, but I really think it is in the baby's best interest—you wouldn't want to lose it, would you?" Definitely did not want to lose this child. I might not get another chance. Mark would support me, so it would be fine, wouldn't it?

"Okay Marky, but only because I love you and this baby so much."

"What about yourself Maureen? Don't you love yourself?" This was a good question, and unfortunately the answer was still no, but I couldn't bring myself to say it, so instead I changed the subject.

"Marky? Let's go now."

"Can you get up?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling a better now. I think I'll be okay." I pulled myself up and steadied myself against the wall, then started moving slowly, holding onto the wall.

"Do you need help? It looks like you are struggling there—oh, hey. Okay, take it easy." He caught me as I stumbled and almost fell. I was dizzy…really dizzy.

"Mark?" I said weakly, "I'm scared. Of the doctor. For Joanne. About the baby." Mark leaned me against the wall outside the bathroom and went in search of a wheelchair since I couldn't walk and he couldn't carry me. He returned shortly, with the chair, and also news that Mimi had gotten in to see Joanne by claiming to be her sister, although nobody knew any more about how she was doing yet. I was relieved that at least someone could watch her and report back, although now even more nervous about being in another wing of the hospital. Mark sensed this and reassured me, saying that Collins had agreed to come to us as soon as anyone knew anything. I reluctantly agreed to continue with my trip to the gynecologist.

Fortunately the doctor who I saw was a woman, which calmed my nerves a little bit, nor was she perverted like the doctor out in Hicksville, although a pregnant woman would be far less fun to violate than a fourteen year old girl, I suppose. In addition to her lack of a weapon with which to violate, given that she was a woman. Even so, I gripped Mark's hand so tightly that he began to lose circulation, though he didn't complain much, or even flinch. He was trying to be strong for me, but I think the bigger reason for his solidity was that he was scared beyond belief, although I couldn't see his face from my position, so I couldn't prove it, but I had known Mark long enough to make an educated guess. The doctor did several tests, and I was beginning to get very nervous, imagining the worst case scenarios, nightmarish stories involving miscarriage. The doctor informed me that the baby was okay, but I had a condition called toxemia, which is basically high blood pressure, caused by many things, but in my case probably stress. Well, of course it was stress—my life had been falling apart!

"Miss Johnson, as long as you refrain from stressful activities and situations, you should be okay--" Collins burst into the room, interrupting the doctor.

"Maureen! It's about Joanne…" What was the doctor saying about relaxing? No more stress. Ha. My partner could be dying, and I'm not supposed to stress. Go figure. Times like these made me wish I had just stayed with Mark in the first place…