AN: I know, I know. I deserve to be booed right off this board. I don't deserve the reviews I've gotten! I'm a bad cliff-hanger leaver! Can you ever forgive me? What if I give you another chapter? Alright, here it is, the much anticipated chapter 6. I'm not its biggest fan, but I thought that I couldn't leave you guys forever.

You can flame me as much as you want, I deserve it!:( I can't guarantee that I won't ever take a nice long hiatus (I like that word), but hopefully you will never EVER have to wait over THIRTEEN MONTHS!

Disclaimer: Until the deal goes all the way through, I don't own RFR…yet.

The quote to remember is: "I've traveled all over the world, memorized 100 digits of pi (haha, he beat you Jarod! Lol!), but I've never told anyone I love them before."

Dr. Nelson peered wearily into the room of his patient, mentally hoping to find it empty. He couldn't help but smile as he realized the room was empty

Well…almost.

The kid looked swelled slightly, his face an ugly shade of purple. Nelson, happy to see him alive, picked up the chart at the end of the bed and looked it over.

Travis Strong.

Fifteen.

Nelson looked up quickly and glanced into the boy's face, realizing for the first time that he looked older than fifteen. More mature.

He returned his attention back to the chart.

It didn't surprise him that under pre-existing conditions, the words 'teenage depression' were written big and bold.

Because at the bottom, in words smaller than those, read the words 'attempted suicide.'

Of course he knew this already.

In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn't even know why he had even come in here.

So he left, and Travis couldn't tell the difference.

I'm dizzy.

But somehow, those words don't describe the depth of what I'm feeling.

It's really more a severe nausea, caused by experiencing my childhood all over again, caused by my guilt.

And visions sweep my mind's eye. Of broken bones, of kisses, of goodnight stories that left me with a feeling that life was fair. But as despair washes over me, I find that I can't help but smile as my mother picks me up and swings my feet over the ground.

But as soon as old memories are imprinted in my mind, new ones come to replace it. Challenging what I know. Challenging what is real.

It has left me reeling. Hoping that I can just sit down and make sense of it all. Sit down and reach for the memories that make me smile. But sitting is difficult, as there are no chairs, no floor to support me.

Which means that I'm flying, somehow.

Which means I'm pining for the ground.

Pining…a strange word to describe something that we severely want. The word 'pine' creates the vision of a tree…of Christmas…of green branches that never fade…

Until they die.

Ray's grin was forced, as were a lot of things recently.

But Robbie realized that he could fake nothing anymore. What he knew, or had known, had been tested.

And fallen to the floor dejectedly.

So, maybe he was being overdramatic, but nothing felt right anymore. There was a churning in his stomach and a gag reflex in his throat that wouldn't leave him. And he didn't want it to leave him. He didn't want anything to leave him. Or anyone.

He felt abandoned. Like things were changing and he had no control over them.

And in an instant he hated himself. He kicked violently and screamed, but nothing happened, so he kept quiet, and waited for this moment of insecurity to pass.

But it didn't.

Ray was still talking. Every once in a while, Robbie would tune in and catch a few words of what he was saying. Most of it was nonsense. A nonstop blather that would keep his mind away from his current troubles.

But sometimes he would hit a nerve.

"You know that if we get our good news things aren't going to go away. I don't know if I can ever look at him the same way. It's gonna be like 'Hey Trav, you feelin' better?' and being me that'll be the wrong thing to say, and he might try to do this again. What if he does it again?"

Ray continued talking, and laughed at some bad joke he had told, but Robbie had tuned out. The knot in his stomach grew and he suddenly felt the need to throw up. He held it in, and chanced a glance at Ray, whose mouth was moving a mile a minute. He imagined how would feel if it had been Ray in Travis' place.

And felt sick for even thinking it.

And also like the world around him were being torn down.

He ran to the bathroom, but it was too late. He threw up all over the linoleum of Ray's kitchen.

Close your eyes.

I heard her voice in the distance. It made me nauseous.

Close your eyes, baby.

She began tugging at me. I felt her cool breath on my shoulder.

Just close your eyes and it'll all be okay.

And suddenly my feet left the ground, and I was flying.

Trust me baby, you'll feel better once you just close your eyes.

She carried me across the purple mountains. Over the wall that divided myself. I begged her to take me down. Take me to the wall…

Close your eyes.

It came as a final whisper.

And then she dropped me. Dropped me into my mother's arms on a cold Christmas day. I felt warm and loved.

My mother read me a book about Buddhism. How Buddha had been reincarnated and…and…I couldn't think anymore. I simply reveled in the feeling that came with my mother's touch.

I had missed that feeling. It was like breathing in fresh summer air. It was like walking barefoot in tall grass.

It was almost like living.

Almost.

Lily watched as the snowflakes made their long journey to the ground. She grinned, then giggled, sticking her tongue out to catch some of the elusive flakes on her tongue.

The wind picked up, and Lily pulled Ray's warm red coat tight around her chest. She shivered and retreated her tongue as a fat flake fell on her cheek.

Ray's coat. She sighed and inhaled deeply, letting his scent linger in her mind. She felt warm and safe, and suddenly happy, knowing that Ray was near her.

Even though he wasn't.

A car made a sharp turn as she reached the crosswalk, spraying her with soggy slush. She grated her teeth as the coldness of it slipped under the coat, leaving her chilled. And the euphoric feeling that clouded her mind left instantly.

And bleaker thoughts replaced it.

She dropped the grin she had been wearing and scowled.

How could she be so selfish?

She gazed down at the white ground, the footsteps marring it's smooth surface. Turned into a dull brown slush by the passers-by.

She pulled the coat tight once more, trying to shake off the last of her chills. She shook the hair from her face and turned the cap that she wore on her head backwards.

Then she did something that even she did not anticipate.

She screamed.

She screamed for herself. She screamed for Ray. She screamed for Robbie, and the Strongs, and for her guilt. Her guilt, her shame, her anger and annoyance, any emotion that had shown itself in her mind was now being released by way of her mouth.

But most of all she screamed for Travis.

Several people poked their heads out of their windows and glared at her. But she didn't care.

She screamed until she could scream no more.

And finally, weak, tired, her throat hoarse, she turned and walked, emotionless, to the place she affectionately called home.

I returned from that haunting, but beautiful place to the conscious paralysis where people would talk to me, and I couldn't talk back. That didn't seem to faze them, and they spoke more candidly to me in this state than they ever had before. It was scary, and made me feel powerful.

But I was so weak.

I heard a deep gruff unfamiliar voice say in a tone almost gloatingly, "he's stabilized." Were they talking about me?

Then the hushed whispers of a passing woman. Her voice was like music, but she didn't sing. And in one deafening moment of pain, she was gone.

Then there was a voice I never expected to hear again. It was deep and filled with a sorrow that made it almost inaudible. It made me want to return to the purple mountains, even to the dizzying memories. To the place filled with pain and sweating and writhing that I couldn't make myself feel.

It didn't say much. In fact, I only heard three words before beginning to slip beneath the purple mist.

"I'm sorry, Travis."

Then he sighed. The mist was turning black. I was pulling away to some darker place.

"It wasn't your fault." His voice broke.

His voice became fainter; I could barely hear him over the beating of my own heart.

But he said one last thing that made my heart stop, if only for a second.

"I love you, Travis."

I love you too, Dad.