For notes and disclaimers, see Chapter 1.

Okay, Van thought as he closed the flip-top cell phone. Poisoned. Twelve hours to live. He tried to think which hospital was closest. Cedars-Sinai probably. He wanted desperately to believe that it was a hoax, a sick joke by somebody they'd sent up, but the invitation to check it out stepped on that hope and crushed it. His head was all tingly. He pulled over to the side of the road and tried to calm down. He took a deep breath, tipping his head back on the headrest for a long moment. He had to chill out because he had to call Deaq and Billie. Another deep breath and he opened the cell phone again. It was a good thing that both of them were on speed dial because, at the moment, he couldn't have strung seven numbers together.

He listened to Deaq's phone ring, even as Deaq's remark about his "van- cation" echoed in his head. Surely, his partner wouldn't begrudge him this interruption. At least he hoped not.

"Van! What part of 'don't call me' don't you understand?!" Deaq's voice echoed in his ear, confusing him for a split second.

Caller ID, of course. "But Deaq—"

"Good-bye, Van." The click hurt.

He hit the button again. He had to make Deaq listen. He started first this time. "Deaq, it's important, man."

"I'm on 'van-cation.'" Another click.

Third time was the charm, right? Or not. Connect, disconnect before Van managed one word. Tears came to Van's eyes, and he ruthlessly swiped them away. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat threatening to choke him.

Okay, maybe Billie would listen. She answered with his name, too, but he interrupted before she could yell at him. "Billie, listen, I have a problem."

"I'm aware of that, Van. Unfortunately, I'm not qualified to help you with it. Have you tried Ritalin?"

"Billie, please—"

"What? Oh, let me guess, you found out that the sage dealer on Venice Beach is not really selling sage, but a more interesting herb, and we should get right on it? It can wait. Or, wait, I got it! The Disney characters and the Universal characters are about to get into a turf war. I'll rent you a Goofy suit, but not until Monday. In the meantime, if you can't relax and enjoy a few days off, could you at least disappear so that I can?"

The tears were back. "Sure, I can do that," he choked out.

She sighed, "Is this really important, Van?"

"Well, let's see, I've probably been poisoned and probably have twelve hours to live. Is that important?" He didn't wait for her answer. He hung up and threw the phone into the seat next to him. He lowered his aching head onto the steering wheel. He needed to get to the freaking hospital. He sat up and put the car in gear. Before he could get moving, though, the phone rang. He didn't need to look at his caller ID to know who was on the other end. "Yeah?"

"If you're kidding, I'll kill you myself. But you're not kidding, are you?"

"No, Billie. I was out with a friend, and we had a drink—"

"Details later. Right now, where are you?"

"I was going to the hospital to find out for sure."

"Okay, which one?"

"Cedars-Sinai, it's the closest."

"Good. I'll meet you there, then you can give me details."

"Could you do me a favor?" he asked softly.

"Sure."

"Call Deaq for me. He keeps hanging up on me before I can tell him."

"Oh my god. Yes, Van, I'll call him. And Van?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry for what I said. I'm just—sorry."

"It's okay. Pretty used to it by now." He hung up. He was wasting his life away on the damn phone.
Billie raised her hand to cover her mouth. Van had said he was used to it. What did that say about their working relationship? What did it say about her? And Deaq hanging up on his partner while he was literally dying was just horrifying to think about. Poor Van. When had he become their whipping boy?

She shook herself. Thoughts for another time, she scolded. Right now she had to get to Cedars-Sinai. And call Deaq. She grabbed her cell phone and a set of keys. Deaq's phone was ringing as she got into the driver's seat of the red Mercedes they had just acquired.

"Yeah, Billie?" Deaq sounded less than happy and Billie could hear a woman's voice in the background urging him to hang up.

"Deaq, we have a problem. Your 'van-cation' is cancelled. I need you to—"

"Noooo," Deaq moaned. "What the hell is up with him now?"

"Well, get your ass down to Cedars-Sinai and find out. Unless, of course, you want a permanent 'van-cation.'"

"Billie, he just called here a few minutes ago. He sounded fine." Was there a little worry in his voice now?

"He's definitely not fine, Deaq! Your ass better be moving out the door right now, Hayes. This is serious. I'm serious. And Deaq, never hang up on your partner, never, ever again. Understand?"

"Yeah. I'm on my way."

"Thank you." God, Van couldn't die. He just couldn't. She had things she needed to say, and she knew herself well enough to know that twelve hours would not be long enough for her to swallow down her pride to make room for the words to come out.
So Van was hurt or something. What the hell could he have done to himself? Boy needed a keeper. He'd said it many times, and it was true. He just didn't want the damn job. Deaq refrained from throwing the phone across the room, settling for a disgusted sigh instead. Rosalind tilted her head at him in curiosity. He gave her a rueful grin. "Baby, can I ask for a rain check on the rest of our evening? Friend of mine is in the hospital." He rubbed the back of his neck as she pouted prettily. "I'm real sorry, Rosie. Forgive me?"

"Sure, Deaqie," she purred as she got up from the couch. "But I'm holding you to that rain check."

He managed to control the wince at the annoying nickname and put one hand to his chest in exaggerated relief. "Thank you!" He grabbed his keys and started hustling her out the door. Billie was mad enough; he did not want to give her the impression that he'd taken his time.

Moments later, he was on the road to Cedars-Sinai. He knew he shouldn't be feeling the resentment that was building in his chest, but he couldn't help it. His first time off in what seemed like forever, and Van was screwing it up. He'd probably had some bizarre surfing accident or pissed some big somebody off just by being Van and had gotten beaten up. Whatever it was, it had better be serious, or Van was in for what could be a second ass- kicking.

But Billie had said it was serious. Deaq's stomach flip-flopped and churned. Damn it. Now he was feeling guilty again. He hated that. His father's lecture returned to him as did all the things he had realized after it. Yet, still, he'd done it again. "Van-cation," the word just seemed to slip from his lips before he even thought about it. If Van was really hurt, and through no fault of his own, well, Deaq was going to end up groveling before Van for his behavior. He really hated that.
What if he was really dying? What if he really died?! Van's breath caught for a long moment before he forced his lungs to work again. He had no idea what this guy wanted. What if he just wanted Van's death? Or wanted something Van couldn't give? Then he would die. It was that simple.

Who would care that he was gone? Who would come to his funeral? Man, that would be a pitiful sight. He wondered if there would even be enough people there to be pallbearers. Deaq would come. Of course, the way things were between them, would it be more for appearances than anything else? Billie would be there. Van thought she cared, at least a little, in her own way. His dad might show up if he found out in time. But then he'd be arrested at the wake. His mom, oh, she'd show up all right. She'd come and wail and fling herself over his coffin. She was nothing if not dramatic. It would be all a show, though, to garner sympathy for herself. It was all about her, always had been, always would be. It was a sure bet none of his former girlfriends would bother. Teddy was dead. Maybe, if he were lucky, enough of his father's friends could be rounded up to at least carry his coffin. Otherwise, strangers would carry him out and dump him in the ground.

But hadn't he run through his lack of friends and family once already today? He choked on a new lump in his throat as more tears threatened to fall. God, how depressing. Was this really his life? Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. Was the poison getting to him already?

The hospital entrance swam in his blurred vision, and he managed to make the turn. Mechanically, he parked the car and made his way inside. He was still struggling to catch his breath as he approached the woman at the desk. "Hello, I need to see a doctor."

"Okay, sir, fill out these papers and bring them back." She handed him a clipboard.

He took it and tried to read the top form. It made no sense, and his hands tingled as he gripped the clipboard tightly. He blinked and looked back at her. "I—"

"Someone will be with you as soon as possible."

She was fading away in a fog. Then there was a falling sensation. He realized too late that it wasn't just a sensation. The floor was hard. He heard her yelling something, then everything was silent and black.