Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. I'm trying here, but they're very stubborn. Time for the red-hot pokers.

A/N: Many thanks to my loyal reviewers. You guys are the best. Okay you're probably thinking 'get on with it woman!' and I'll agree this has stretched further than I reckoned it would, but I wanted to keep it as realistic as such an outlandish story line could accommodate. I hope it will be worth it.

I normally hate these dream-type things on TV programmes (Elizabeth's not keen on them either), but seeing as she is unconscious there isn't any other way to get her to finally work things out. I've tried to keep it as un-corny as possible.

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'I can't see a thing in here, I need more suction!'

'I don't know if we can save the kidney, Donald. The livers in pieces too.'

'Well try, but remember it's her life first, then the kidney.'

'Clamp.'

'That bullet really did its job.'

'Yes well, let's get on and do ours.'

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It was cold and wet and not the sort for weather to be running in so naturally at Northern Hunt's School for Girls, the sixth formers were currently dashing or rather slopping around the grounds in the midst of a cross-country.

Elizabeth and her friend Annabelle weren't. They were hiding, most specifically hiding under a bunch of trees in the woods behind the school, which they were supposed to be running through.

Annabelle took a drag on the cigarette they were sharing and passed it back to Elizabeth.

'Character building!' said Annabelle with disgust, 'how is this meant to be character building. I mean what character is it supposed to build except a resentful one.'

Elizabeth shrugged.

'Its just they're way of controlling us,' she said, blowing out a line for smoke, 'its doesn't teach us anything.'

'So, you going to town on Saturday. All the others are sneaking out.'

'I dunno. I don't think so, it's was terrifically boring last time. That pub was so dull and the music was old. Ms Haverly old. Last century,' said Elizabeth.

She moved a little further under the trees as another gust of rain splattered them.

'Yuck!' exclaimed Annabelle, wiping her face, 'my hair is going to be ruined.'

The girl dragged her fingers through her long black hair. Elizabeth gazed at it longingly.

'Wish I had your hair,' she said, 'mine refuses to do anything but frizz.'

'Oh come on Beth, your hair's gorgeous. You've got that pre-Raphelite look. Boys love that. That Simon did anyway, last week.'

Elizabeth made a face.

'Don't remind me. It was a bad idea. He was a good kisser but he had all the personality of a mushroom,' she said, taking another drag.

Annabelle giggled.

'Beth I pity the man that has to deal with you. He's going to need to be a mad man.'

Elizabeth snorted.

'Deal with me? Likely. I'm going to be a doctor and have a career and never, ever get married. Or have children. We made a pact remember?'

Annabelle nodded.

'I remember. Right on, sing it sister!' she said, thrusting her fist in the air in a mock salute.

'Elizabeth Corday!'

Elizabeth groaned inwardly and hastily tossed the cigarette onto the floor, grinding it into the leaves with her foot. Ms Thompson, the PE teacher, had found them.

Elizabeth turned. And got the shock of her life when she saw, not Ms Thompson, but her mother arms folded, looking disapproving.

'Mother!' she said, weakly, 'what are you doing here?'

'I'm here to get you to remember,' said her mother taking her by the arm.

Elizabeth was just about to ask remember what, when suddenly they were no longer in the woods behind the school, but at her Graduation day. Gowned, smiling students were everywhere in the huge hall and the place was filled with noise and the music of a band.

Her mother looped an arm around hers and they began to walk through the crowds. Suddenly the noise decreased, then vanished altogether, though Elizabeth could still see people talking and laughing.

'Mother, what's going on?' she asked.

'Don't' ask me dear, its your head,' replied her mother adjusting her blouse, 'quite a place it is too. Honestly darling the things you think about-'

'Mum!'

'Well don't blame me. I'm in your head too; I'm just a figment of what you know I'm like. But enough of all this, do you remember what happened?'

Elizabeth's features creased in confusion.

'Yes, I was just in the woods and then you arri-'

'No, no Elizabeth, before that. That's just a memory you're in, just like this is a memory. Your graduation. I remember it too. Your father spent most of the day chatting up your student friends and buying them drinks. Wonderful.'

'Er, Mum?'

'Yes, yes. You are not here Elizabeth. You are not at school, or graduating. You are in Chicago county hospital and you are being operated on. You have a daughter, called Ella and a dead husband, called Mark. You were shot Elizabeth, do you remember?'

Elizabeth shook her head, wondering if she was dreaming or going mad. What the hell was going on?

'You are dreaming, but you are not here. Elizabeth, look at me.'

She did so. And suddenly everything came back in a flash. Mark, Ella, Chicago, Jane, guns, blood, pain.

She fell to the floor clutching her side. The pain, the awful pain. Where was it? Where was she? She looked at her side and saw nothing. No blood. Someone clasped her shoulders. She looked up.

'Daddy!' she exclaimed.

Her father smiled, laughter lines creasing.

'My darling,' he said, helping her to her feet.

'God, Daddy, I just...Mother was here and...' she looked at him suddenly, 'why are you here?'

'To talk, to listen. I think you thought I would be a better person than your mother to talk to.'

Elizabeth looked about her. They were in a hospital. A familiar one. Her first placement and they were in the examination room she'd tried to hide in after making a mistake on her first shift. She'd nearly killed a woman and had been yelled out in no uncertain terms by a senior doctor. In tears, she'd fled to an empty room.

'Why am I here?' she said aloud.

Her father kissed her cheek then turned and walked about the room.

'You wanted to hide somewhere. It's something you used to do a lot. Hide from things. I remember when you were seven and you didn't want to go to school and you hid in your wardrobe. We had a hell of a time getting you out.'

He sat on an empty bed. Elizabeth walked over to a chair, fumbling in her head for an explanation.

'I suppose it could be the drugs. The anaesthetic. I've heard of people having out of body experiences when they are undergoing surgery-'

'Elizabeth you're not dying,' said her father.

She looked at him.

'Then why am I here?' she asked.

'You're dreaming sort of. Only it's more lucid than that. You're sorting something out. You've been doing whilst you were in that room.'

He smiled at her genially. She wondered if she was already dead and this was heaven. Or hell. She couldn't be dreaming. Could she? If I had a choice I wouldn't be dreaming about mother, she thought.

'Elizabeth you are not dead,' sighed her father, playing absently with and empty IV stand, 'and yes you are dreaming and no, I wouldn't have chosen you're mother either but she was the best one to snap you out of you're regression.'

'How-'

'How did I know that's what you were thinking?' said her father, with an infuriating grin, 'simple. I'm just a creation of me in your head. So I know. Anyway, this isn't what we're here to talk about.'

'What are we here to talk about?'

Her father glanced around and then stood up.

'Let's try somewhere a bit nicer,' he said.

Then they were in a park.

'Sommers Park!' exclaimed Elizabeth, 'I remember this, from when I was little. I use to love this place!'

They began to walk down the tarmac path, sunlight playing around them. A couple of boys raced past on bikes and a man walking a dog nodded to them politely.

'Yes. You fell off the slide over there,' said her father pointing, 'you were so annoyed you dashed into those trees and refused to come out.'

'All right, I'm seeing a pattern here. These are all places I've hid around,' said Elizabeth, tersely, 'if there's a point here you-'

'Ah, your head remember?'

'Okay, I am making it in a very unsubtle way. I used to run away and hide from things. I used to worry about what people would think, I used to run from hard things and I was stubborn.'

Her father raised his eyebrows.

'Was?'

'Okay am. But I'm not any of the other things anymore. I'm don't' care what people think or run from hard things. After that time in the hospital I never ran away from things again. I was determined to show them how good I was. Am,' she said.

They had reached the pond and she stopped gazing into its green waters. The light glittered and waved across the surface.

'What?' she asked, without looking up.

'Sorry?'

'There's something I've missed here, isn't there. The reason, the thing I'm trying to figure out. This is all connected-God why does this all have to be so cryptic. I've seen these things on TV and its always people you know wandering around saying 'I think you know why you're here' and you have to figure it out. Bloody hell I am not a mind reader, especially of my own mind!'

Her father just smiled and walked away, his reflection disappearing from the water. Well I don't care if that is what I'm supposed to do she thought, I'm not playing. I'll just stay here till I wake up.

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'Suction!'

'Dammit! Sorry Donald I can't save the kidney.'

'So take it already, she's got another. Edson keep your hand still or so help me I'll cut it off!'

'Sats are dropping!'

'We need more blood! Three more units! Hurry it up!'