Hi everyone...

Yes, another long delay....sorry, sorry! These final chapters are difficult to write, so bear with me. Thanks for all of the thoughtful feedback on the preceding chapters – I really do appreciate it!

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"Why did you have to get away?" she said. "What happened?"

"I couldn't breathe," he said.

"Why?" she said softly.

He stared off into space for a moment. "She didn't know where to go," he said. "That girl, Neela. She didn't know where the heliport was, so I showed her. We went up in the elevator. When we got there, I couldn't get out. I tried, I guess," he said.

Elizabeth watched him, waiting.

"It was too hard," he said, his voice trembling. "It was too hard. The thing loomed too large in front of me. The sound of it, the spinning–it just reminded me, you know, of everything I'd lost. I didn't want to go back there again, be so close to it again. I was afraid.

"So I went down," he said. "I went back down and I got outside as fast as I could. I remember being aware of people walking by, some patients, but that was it. I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I still felt really dizzy. Then I saw it."

"What?"

"The smoke," he said. "That stupid Malarkey, standing in a corner, all doped up."

"You're kidding," she said.

"I'm not kidding." he said. "He was out there getting high. I yelled at him to get inside and wait for me there. So he went in, and I stayed outside, just for a minute, collecting my thoughts, and well, you know the rest."

"I don't," she said.

"Lizzie, you know," he insisted. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because – I'm sorry, Robert," she said. "I'm not trying to upset you, I'm just trying to understand what you went through."

"You don't want to know all this," he said.

"I do," she said.

He stared at her for a moment. "All right," he said, with a funny little laugh. "All right. You want to know, I'll tell you."

He shrugged. "I was walking inside," he said. "I looked up and – there it was. The chopper. Of course, the chopper. It was coming right for me, Elizabeth," he said with a strange smile. "Like it wanted me."

"Did you try to run?"

"Nowhere to run, baby," he said. "Nowhere to hide." He laughed. "That's a song."

"Robert–"

"Lizzie, you don't understand," he said. "You'll never understand. I hope you don't, actually. Seeing that thing that's going to kill you, watching it lunge towards you with all its might – I hope you never have to see what's that like."

She looked at him sympathetically.

"Don't say you're sorry," he said. "Don't say anything at all."

She looked down, and touched her right cheek absently. She rubbed at it. They were both quiet for a few minutes.

"Did it hurt?" she said finally.

He laughed, an eerie half-laugh. "Lizzie."

"What was it like?" she said.

"It was like..." he closed his eyes for a minute, remembering. "The worst pain I could have ever imagined, for one split second, followed by nothing."

She stared at him wordlessly.

"And then I was gone," he said. "That's the end of the story."

"Robert," she said softly. "You're not....you're not gone."

"I'm not here," he said. "I'm not alive."

"Yes, but..."

"But what?" he said. "But nothing." He leaned back against the couch wearily. "I can relate to nothing. My whole life, when you think about it, has amounted to nothing." He turned and looked at her. "You said as much to Weaver that night, after my memorial service."

"I didn't say that," she said softly. "I didn't mean it that way. I said–"

"At the end of a life, there should be something more," he quoted.

"Yes."

"Well," he said, "Thanks for the sympathy, Lizzie."

"Didn't you ever have any fun?" she said gently.

"Yeah, I had some good times," he said, remembering.

"That's good."

"You know what was fun, Lizzie?" he said. "Working with you."

"Was it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it was."

"I'm glad," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly.

She looked at him, startled. "For – what?"

"For everything. For all the bad things I ever did to you."

"Oh, stop," she said, embarrassed. "Forget it. It was a long time ago."

"You know, a lot of the things I did, I never realized how bad they were," He looked down and looked up at her, looking like a lost little boy. "I just didn't realize how good I had it back then. I should have. I thought everything I had would last forever."

She nodded.

"That must sound really naive to you." he said.

"No, Robert, I understand."

"It took me awhile...to learn," he said. "I still have a lot to learn, I guess. I wish I'd had the chance to–"his voice broke off a little, "become better."

"It's okay," she said gently. She put her hand on his shoulder, stroked his arm.

"I just wish I could change some things, that's all. Between us..." he said quietly. He rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lizzie,"

"Robert, it's okay– really–"

"No, not that. I mean, I'm sorry that I never ask you how you are. This whole time, I've been coming here these past few weeks, I've hardly asked how you're doing."

"Well, Robert, you've had a lot on your mind," she said. She smiled.

"So?"

"So, I'm okay," she said.

"I don't believe you," he said.

"I am," she said. She shrugged.

"C'mon, Lizzie," he said wearily. "I've been telling you the truth. You tell me the truth."

"I don't know, Robert," she said. "I don't know what is the truth anymore. That's the honest truth. I don't know how I am, from moment to another. It changes."

He waited patiently for her to continue.

"It's constantly changing," she said. "I'm up, I'm down. I can't sleep. I have the best sleep of my life."

"You had the best sleep of your life?"

"Yeah, it was funny," she said slowly. After you left, after I finished the journal and I was calling to you but you weren't coming around any more, I had the loveliest sleep. When I went to bed I was distraught, but once I fell asleep, it was restful. I slept so well, and I felt comforted. This feeling of–intimacy came over to me. I can't explain it. Well, no that's how I can explain it. I had this intimate feeling, even though no one was there with me."

He smiled.

"What?"

"No, nothing." he said. "So it was good."

"It was very good." she said. "That's what I'm saying."

"Sounds like you're doing well."

"Yeah, I suppose I am," she said cagily. "Listen, Robert, I'm sorry. I'm spending way too much time talking about this, about me. It was nice of you to ask, but really I'm fine."

"Lizzie, this is what I wanted," he said.

"What?"

"For you to be okay," he said. "I think maybe that's why I came here. It all make sense – the poem, the song..."

"What poem?" she said. "What song?"

"Oh," he said. He looked embarrassed. "It's nothing–I've said too much, that's all. Don't worry about it."

"Robert, tell me what you're talking about," she said insistently.

He shrugged and looked away.

"Robert??"

To be continued....

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Hope you like it, so far. I think in some ways this is definitely a kinder, gentler Romano (than we saw on the show) – it's the end of his life, so under the circumstances he's a little more willing to let his vulnerability and regrets out, although it's still difficult for him. Anyway, let me know what you think – and thanks for reading!