Reviews mean so much to me. You all liked it, so here's your reward for reviewing—another chapter. (: It's a bit more action, more motion and talking, than the previous, or Downfall itself. I'm hoping for at least ten reviews for this chapter too, and the faster I get them, the faster I'll update! (Such a wicked bargain….) Anyway, all the titles are coming from one song. Know which? Guess. Know what's wrong with Katie? You're welcome to guess that too, though it's not nearly as difficult to figure out. I guess neither of them are, if you like a certain kind of music…oh anyway…I'm rambling. On with the story!

-Sienna (:

"Fuck," said Zack.

Freddy stood in his doorway, holding Katie in the romanticized way, draped across his arms. The same way he would have held her if they got married, and he would have carried her over the threshold of their first home. That would have been a happy time. His bride wouldn't be turning blue then.

"She needs help," was all he could think to say.

"What the hell happened?"

He went past his friend, into the living room. When he set her down on the couch was the first time he noticed her fingertips. They were gentlest shade of lavender.

"Freddy?"

"What?" He squeezed her hands. His mind went Katie, Katie, as though he could reach her through thought alone. Reach her and ask her to come back from wherever she was. Katie, Katie.

"Tell me what happened."

"Are your parents home?"

"No! Shut up and answer me!"

"I can't!"

Zack Mooneyham rarely got angry. But then again, Katie was rarely unconscious in his living room.

He grabbed Freddy by the collar and swung him around to stare eye to eye. "Freddy Jones. Tell me what the fuck is wrong with her, or I'm calling 911 right now."

This was a bad idea. Freddy never should have taken her here. Zack didn't understand, he wouldn't understand! He was supposed to help, not ask questions, just go get something that would make her better and make everything okay! Clinging tightly to her hands, he tried to answer.

"She…did something," he managed. That was true. She did some things. Pot, cocaine, heroin, all the basic drugs. Not ecstasy or meth, as far as he knew, but who could be sure? Not even Katie knew.

Zack took a deep breath. His friend was nearly deranged. And his other friend? The little girl he grew up with? The bassist in his band? His relationship mentor? She was…there…possibly…not…. Keep a cool head, Zack. Like he usually did. Just get her what she needs.

What does she need?

"Maybe we should get her some, er, aspirin," he suggested. Internally, he hit himself. Not like Freddy would fall for such a stupid suggestion.

"Okay," Freddy said. All of his attention was focused on Katie's closed lids.

Zack got up, then hesitated. "Is she breathing?"

He touched her lips. Nodded. Zack turned away and disappeared into the kitchen.

Shit. What the fuck is he THINKING?

It took all his restraint not to slam things as he went by them—namely his empty cereal bowl and the milk jug. He did throw the Fruity Pebbles across the room, though, before he could think better of it—they hit the far wall with a satisfying "thud-spshhhh" sound, exploding, scattering brightly-colored rice bits all over the floor.

The phone was on the wall by the fridge. He picked of the receiver as quietly as possible and pressed three buttons.

"Emergency Dispatch, how can I help you."

He swallowed hard. The man's voice was monotonous, as though he did this every day—well, on second thought, he probably did. Chill, Zack. Just tell the man what's wrong. Like you know.

"My friend is hurt, or sick, or something." Alright, good start.

"What happened."

Again, that question without a question mark. "I don't know. My other friend brought her here. I'm af—it might—she looks bad, unconscious—"

"Would you like me to call an ambulance?"

"Yes," Zack sighed in relief. "Please."

He gave the man his address, casting nervous glances towards the living room. Would Freddy notice how long it was taking him to find the aspirin? Not likely. He was preoccupied….

"Can you describe your friend, Mr. Mooneyham?"

"Sure. She's about sixteen, brown hair, brown eyes—"

"And her name is?"

"Oh—Katie. Katherine. Brown. Katherine Brown."

"About how much would you say Miss Brown weighs?"

"…I never thought about it before…she's not fat but she's not skinny…maybe, like, 130 pounds? Does that sound right?"

"How tall is she?"

"About five-four, five-five."

"Sounds healthy. Can you tell me her symptoms for the medical personnel?"

"Uh, I don't really know. She's unconscious…breathing though…. Her fingernails are kinda blue, too, but I dunno if that's cause she's barely breathing or—"

"Can you look at her now?"

Zack thought for a second. He could go get the aspirin, go back to Freddy, and then say he was getting her a glass of water or something. "Yeah, hold on. Don't hang up."

"It's my job not to," replied the man.

Run into the bathroom, run through the kitchen (feet crunching on Fruity Pebbles), run into the living room with the bottle of aspirin.

"Found it!"

Freddy looked up. "You think it'll help?"

"Um, maybe. She's gotta sit up though. And we'll need water to wash it down her throat."

"Right…."

Together the boys heaved her into a sitting position. Discreetly, Zack felt her pulse and even managed to get his head against her chest to hear her breathing. Faint. Like a weak breeze through winter tree boughs, and shallow.

"Can you see me, Katie?" Zack asked, lifting up her eyelid. Her dead-fisheye stared back at him. He shuddered. "Please wake up."

"Please," Freddy echoed.

"I'll go get the water. Just stay with her—don't do anything—okay?"

Nods from Freddy. Zack bolted back to the phone.

"Still there?"

"Sure am, kid."

Another sigh of relief. He wanted to hug this guy, whoever he was, just for being there. Or tell him so. But instead he listed everything he could notice about Katie.

"She's cold. Her breathing is shallow and labored. Remember what I told you about her fingers? Her lips are purple too. She's all cold. And her eyes, they don't have any irises."

"No irises? The colored part?"

"No," Zack physically hit himself this time. "That's not what I mean…. They're all the colored part. Almost no black dot in the middle, that thing."

"Pupil," said the man. "No pupil."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem."

"Are the ambulance people coming?"

"They've been on their way for five minutes. Should be any moment now."

"Ohkay." Breathe, breathe. "Ohkay."

"Mr. Mooneyham, please don't take this question as an insult to your lifestyle…."

"No, go ahead."

There was a sound of rifling papers on his end. "Is Miss Brown, or has Miss Brown ever been, involved in drug use?"

"I…" Zack blinked. He though of all the nights they'd spent getting high in Freddy's basement. But that was only weed, and weed didn't kill people, it just made you stupid. Right?

"You mean like, hard drugs?"

"Specifically, narcotics and opiates. Morphine, heroin, codeine."

What the hell is Freddy into? "Not that I—"

A loud knocking sounded throughout the Mooneyham residence, accompanied by the doorbell.

"What the fuck?" said Freddy, his voice slightly distant.

"They're here," Zack said.

"Good. Tell the EMTs everything you told me, okay?"

"Right. Uh, thanks."

"Anytime. Good luck."

It felt strange to hang up the phone. At first he clung to it, like a lifeline, one that would explain everything. Or had it already?

"ZACK?" Freddy yelled. Zack heard a paramedic say, "please, step aside, son." Freddy must have left Katie's side to answer the door, or—no, wait, it hadn't been locked. They let themselves in. Please don't let him do anything stupid….

"ZACK!"

"I'M COMING!" Zack shouted. Crunch, crunch went the Fruity Pebbles. He would never eat Fruity Pebbles again. Every time in the future, just looking at them would make him feel sick and nervous. Like he did now.