A/N: I bet you all have missed me. I have two chapters ready for upload. Here's chapter 21!

Disclaimer: This is the last one I'm putting. Use common sense people!

I woke to the sound of screaming. I felt like I was wrapped in cellophane. It didn't take me long to realize the screaming was mine. My cheeks were wet and my throat was on fire. Something was pushing me towards the center of the bed and there was a voice behind my screams.

"Rita, you're okay. Scoot over. It's okay. You're with me. Rita, it's Greg. You're okay." He was gently pushing me over and I let him push. I found the strength to stop the screams and just lay there, whimpering.

When Greg was happy with the space between me and the edge of the bed he pulled back the covers and crawled in, leaning against the headboard, "It's okay, come here." He pulled me closer and I buried my face in his worn t-shirt. I was assaulted with flashbacks from college and med school. Through the thick fog of fear, confusion, and memories, I noticed that he still smelled the same as he always had. In fact, he wasn't much different than he'd been when we were in high school. He was older, smarter, and maybe a little more cynical, but he hadn't really changed much at all. He was still willing to jump to my aid, even when I'd done everything I could to push him away.

"Better?" He was rubbing my back and looking down at me. I had quieted down a little and I was forcing myself to uncurl my fists and let go of his shirt. I nodded into his chest and tried to focus on breathing.

"I can't even remember what the dream was about." I mumbled into his chest and I couldn't hear him chuckle, but I felt it, "I'm sorry." I couldn't raise my voice from a whisper.

"It's okay." He rested his cheek on the top of my head and I heard him sigh, "You're okay." I was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling I couldn't name. It started in my lower stomach and spiraled out until I felt like I was going to explode. It made me want to cry all over again.

We sat there in silence for what felt like a lifetime, until I felt him shift uncomfortably. Something in the back of my head told me I should move and when I pulled away he looked down at me. I could see the relief that he was trying to hide. I had been curled on his right side and I was putting pressure on his thigh. Obviously, it hadn't been too bad but he could only take so much.

He scooted down under the covers and pulled me to him again, "Tired?" He whispered into my hair and I was overwhelmed again. I nodded and laid my head on his chest, breathing in his scent. He pulled me so close I thought he was going to pull me on top of him.

I started to drift off and, just before I fell asleep, I heard him whisper, so softly that, when it happened, I thought I was hearing things, "I'm the one who should be sorry. After all these years…"

My brain was fuzzy and I didn't have the energy to concentrate on the words I thought I'd heard. I felt him sigh as I lost consciousness and that feeling that threatened to make me explode welled up again. It stuck with me this time and I fell asleep, warm and content.

The sun was shining on my face and no matter how much I tried to shield my eyes, I couldn't get back to the warm cocoon of sleep that I'd found. I groaned and rolled over, coming into contact with a very solid Greg. It took me a second to realize where I was. This room definitely didn't look like my tiny hotel room. Greg's business suite was fully stocked and I wondered if he was paying for this or if the hospital had fronted it. I wondered why there were two beds.

"Good morning, sunshine." He rubbed his eyes with one arm and then looked over at me.

I smiled and sat up, "Morning." I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching. I pulled the shirt I had borrowed to sleep in down, trying to cover my knees and failing, and headed for the bathroom without a word, heading for the shower. Greg watched me leave and then rolled over to try to go back to sleep.

After thirty minutes in a hot shower, I felt like I knew what I needed to do. There was no way that I could stay in Los Angeles and be anywhere near as successful as I had been at the CDC. Both Dr. Cuddy and Greg had said that there was room for me in New Jersey and I needed the scenery change anyway. I needed to convince myself that this wasn't a handout, it was an opportunity. It was a chance for me to get back some of what I'd lost.

I walked out of the bathroom, wearing one of the robes from the hotel. The news was on TV and Greg was sitting up in bed. He pointed at a pill bottle on the other side of the room and I walked over and grabbed it, tossing it to him and looking for my hairbrush.

"Feel better?" He popped two pills in his mouth as I ran the brush through my wet hair. I nodded and he gave me some sort of half smile. He was starting to get up and I could already tell he was going to be sore from holding me last night. I felt a surge of guilt and pushed it down. The last thing I wanted was to get in an argument with him over his pride. I busied myself with my bag and turned my back on him. I heard him limp to the bathroom and shut the door.

Something wasn't right. It felt comfortable to be around him but at the same time it was like we were separated by a thick glass wall. I couldn't hear what he was saying and, no matter how much he reached out to me, I was still far away.

I heard the shower turn on and I flopped down on the bed. I wondered what he was going to say when he got out. Was he going to just come out and ask me to go to Jersey or was he going to prolong it and stay for the rest of the conference? He didn't seem to be very interested in the conference to begin with and I'd already scanned the lineup for his name; he wasn't speaking. In fact, I really had no idea why he was there in the first place. That struck me as odd. Why would he go to a conference if he didn't have to speak? He wasn't the type to go just to learn something.

I laid back and stared at the hotel room ceiling, though I didn't focus on it. Going to New Jersey seemed to be my only chance to make something out of what I had left. That was if I was still invited. I'd already turned down both Dr. Cuddy and Greg down once. Maybe the invitation wasn't open anymore. Then again, if Greg wasn't here for the conference, what was he here for? It couldn't be because he wanted to see the LA sights. He wasn't that type of guy either.

I heard the shower shut off and I realized I'd been laying there thinking for longer than I thought. I wondered absently how my sister was doing and when the next payment was due to the hospice. Hopefully I'd paid enough in advance and I wouldn't have to pay for a couple more months. I'd be getting a phone call if they wanted more money. I hadn't talked to my sister in months and I think she preferred it that way. She didn't have to say thank you if I never called. She was in poor shape anyway and she usually wanted to be alone.

Greg came out of the bathroom and I could feel his presence in the doorway, even though I wasn't looking at him. He didn't come any farther and, after a couple of silent seconds, I turned my head to look at him. As soon as I did, I regretted it. He was wrapped in a towel from the waist down and he hadn't changed much, as far as appearance goes. He was still one of the most attractive men I'd ever laid eyes on. He was thinner than he used to be and I accounted that to the bad habits he'd developed over the years.

There was a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach and I suddenly got the urge to either jump out of the window or jump him. I desperately needed to jump something.

I sat up too fast, making me suddenly light headed, and tried to look nonchalant, "Something I can help you with?"

He looked at me for another minute and I could swear the look in his eyes mirrored what I was sure mine were showing. He masked it almost as quickly as I'd sat up. Wiggling his eyebrows he grinned at me, "I vaguely remember you helping me a few years back. Care to take a trip back in time?"

I smirked at him and tried to mask my feelings too, "That was lame, Greg. Even for you."

He put on a pretend look of hurt and limped over to his suitcase, "And I was going to take you out for ice cream later today."

I laughed and then stuck my tongue out at him, "I'm much nicer after I've had my morning coffee. Hurry up, the grumpy will get worse if we don't hurry."

He smirked and took his pants into the bathroom. Emerging seconds later, he pulled his shirt over his head and gestured to me, "Well come on, get dressed! Breakfast is on me. You're going to owe me when we get back to Jersey. You're buying me lunch for a month."

I shook my head and walked into the bathroom to change back into my clothes from yesterday. That overwhelming feeling surged through me again and I tried to squelch it down. I really needed to figure out what that was.