PLEASE READ AUTHOR NOTE : VERY IMPORTANT!

Lils: Hey, so…first, I must apologize! Jaye and I forgot to introduce to you new readers our little arrangement! Okay, so, where to start? First off, MNGstrikesback is Jaye's and mine's split fanfiction account. We're best friends but we live in different states now after Jaye moved. We love writing, so we decided why not write stories together?
In our stories, the normal font represents me – Lils – and my writing. You see, I'll write a few paragraphs, and then I'll send the story over to Jaye.
Jaye's paragraphs are the bold print. We do this so you can see and enjoy our unique writing talents, plus it's just fun.
So now, hopefully you're all filled in, and because most all of the reviews were asking that same question, I guess I've pretty much replied to you all, but thanks for reviewing anyways!

Chapter two: Emergency Visit

"Hang on…what about your luggage?"

Charlie and Levet were once again seated inside Charlie's shabby sedan, Levet behind the wheel, and Charlie occupying the passenger's seat. They hadn't spoken since they had left Liam's house, each of them keeping their eyes on the road, watching street signs and traffic lights go by. The morning outside was brightening quickly, the last of the puddles from the previous night's rain slowly evaporating into the air.

Charlie tapped the steering wheel. "You have clothes to pick up, don't you?"

"Yeah." Levet didn't take his eyes off the road, even though they were presently stuck behind an extremely slow red light, with a rusty old Ford in front of them, fumes puttering into the air from the truck's worn-out exhaust system.

Charlie noticed that Levet had been acting out of the ordinary, but couldn't quite place why. His mind was still light and airy, the Heroin Monster gleeful after his last fix.

"Well you can't go off to Australia without any kit, can you? Where's your place?"

"Here."

Charlie looked up through the top of the dusty windshield. They had finally pulled around the truck and the traffic light, and had parked in the lot of a towering apartment building. The structure itself was in desperate need of renovation. Most of the windows were blocked by huge, rusting air-conditioning systems. The bricks of the edifice were faded and chipped, the whole place looking forlorn, forgotten by time. He suddenly felt sorry for Levet, and couldn't help but wonder, once again, what had happened to his parents…if he had ever had any. Charlie didn't know much about Levet…only what he had heard from the gang – mostly Fish-Lips – and that wasn't very much.

Charlie stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. He followed Alec across the damp lot, and up to the entrance of the complex. He watched as Levet pulled out a room-key and shoved it into the door lock. He had to jiggle it a few times before the lock clicked, and then he had to throw all of his weight against the thick green door to get it open.

"It's not much," he said as they walked inside. Levet must have noticed that Charlie was staring around the place – at the grimy white tiles and peeling wallpaper. There were many hallways, each of them lined with the same thick green doors. "But it beats having to stay with Derk and the others."

Charlie didn't say anything. He couldn't. Levet led him down a hallway, up a flight of stairs, down another hallway, and stopped in front of an identical green door that had the number "34" in faded gold lettering. Getting into the room was equally as trying as getting into the complex, but finally after a few moments of rattling the key, the door swung open.

There was no carpet. Just the same white tile that spread out and over to the walls, which were bare and white. A single rug lay under a sofa that sat in front of an old television set that had tinfoil wrapped around the antennas. Behind the "living room" was the kitchen. A space that consisted of a fridge, sink, stove, oven, and countertop. "No microwave," Levet mumbled as he threw the keys on the counter and headed to a thin hallway. There was a white door at the end of this, and behind it, a bedroom with a tiny, walk-in bathroom. Levet bounced over the bed and to the side of the room that held the closet. From there, he started shoving random articles of clothing into a hard-covered suitcase.

Charlie sat on the bed and watched, still unable to speak. He focused on a crack in the wall, and jumped when someone pounded on the door outside the bedroom. Levet looked up and groaned.

"Smith, you in there?"

Charlie looked curiously at Levet.

"What do you want?" the nineteen-year-old shot back.

"Your rent!" the angry voice outside the door shouted. "You haven't paid yet, and the deadline's tomorrow. If I don't get the money, Smith, you're outta here, you got that?"

"Yeah, yeah…fucking landlords…" Levet stood up and walked from the bedroom. Charlie followed.

"Smith?" Charlie asked.

"None of your—" Levet started. He shook his head. "Never mind."

The pounding on the door continued, the rumbling voice outside grower louder and more persistent. Levet threw open the door, casting Charlie a glance that he couldn't exactly understand. Then he looked past Levet and saw why the kid seemed so put out.

Standing in the entryway was a man that resembled, to Charlie, a mole. He was quite round, with pudgy legs, arms, and fingers. His clothes were ill fit and dirty, his chunky face protruding directly from his collar, with no trace of a neck. The man's nose was sharp, his eyes merely slits below his heavy brow. When he spoke his voice was deep and furious, his cheeks and many chins rumbling. He started shouting instantly.

"ABOUT TIME! YOU KNOW, I HAVE BEEN SENDING YOU WARNING AFTER WARNING SMITH AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T SENT IN YOUR RENT!"

Charlie cringed. He saw Levet do the same.

"AND WHAT'S ALL THIS BUSINESS ABOUT?" It seemed that the fat man in the doorway had seen Charlie. "THAT'S DOUBLE THE CHARGE, YOU KNOW! I SHOULD HAVE YOU EVICTED! AS A MATTER OF FACT, I THINK I WILL!"

"You won't have to worry about me any more, Mr. Morton. After today, I'm gone!" Levet said.

"Well I certainly hope so," Mr. Morton said, pulling at his shirt collar. "But you still owe me this month's – "

Charlie sensed it was time to go. He lifted Levet's suitcase in the air.

"Uh…excuse me," he said. "You probably know me, I'm Charlie Pace, bass guitarist for DriveSHAFT – well of course you've heard of me – "

Mr. Morton stiffened and said, "Yes, I'm sure you are." He brushed Charlie away like he was some sort of bothersome fly. "Smith, I really don't want to put out a warrant, but at the rate things are going…"

Levet grabbed his suitcase from Charlie.

"Look. Morton. Take the apartment. Take everything in there right now. You'll never see me again."

Morton puffed up. He was screaming again.

"NOT WITHOUT MY RENT!"

Charlie felt a headache coming on. He looked desperately at Levet, who finally gave in. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tattered billfold, shoving it at the now blotchy landlord, who took it greedily, finally moving from the entryway.

"Nice doing business with you, Mr. Smith," he said cheerfully. Charlie had a feeling that what he was holding in his hand was the last drops of Levet's money. "Hopefully we'll never meet again. Good luck in – where ever you're going!"

Then Levet buffeted Morton out of the way with his suitcase and set off down the hall, shoulders hunched. Once they were out on the street, he said, "Let's get out of here."

"Hey, hey…what was that about? A warrant?" Charlie trotted after him. "Levet. Why didn't you tell me? You could have stayed – "

"Forget it." Levet popped the trunk of Charlie's car and dropped his suitcase inside. "Let's head for the airport. You drive."

Levet and Charlie sat on the plane, Charlie drumming his fingers on the seat, and Levet flipping through a ripped up paperback copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Charlie took several deep breaths. He wasn't that great of a flier.

"S'matter, son?" a Southern voice laughed at him from across the aisle. Charlie turned his head and stared at the man with long blonde hair.

"What?"

"Wha's wrong with you?"

Charlie stared at him. What the sodding…? "Nothing that I care to share with a perfect stranger."

The Southerner smirked. A young, blonde woman sitting next to him smacked him. "Leave 'im alone, Sawyer. Whaddid he do to you?"

"The way you act, Sticks, you shouldn't be talkin'," the man, Sawyer, shot back.

The woman sent him a death glare and turned away. Charlie blinked, then looked back towards Levet. "How much longer do you think we're going to be on this…thing?" he asked.

Levet looked up at him. "Charlie, we just took off. It's gonna be about six hours."

Charlie gave him a pained look, and somehow Levet seemed to know what he was thinking. "You're just going to have to do without, mate."

Charlie slumped back in his chair, his leg bouncing. Levet raised an eyebrow, but shook his head and went back to his book.

Charlie, a little shaken by his conversation with the southern man across the aisle, sighed deeply and impatiently. He tried reading the little magazine stuck in his seat, but that turned out to be about emergency procedures, which only made him more nervous. He tossed the magazine away and tried looking out the window.

They seemed to be in between two layers of clouds. One was below the plane, and was gray and flat. And out on eye-level Charlie could see great plumes of white. They seemed surprisingly solid, like you could sit on them – thrones or something, he thought – but then the plane would fly right through one, still climbing. Soon, when he straight up through the window, he could see a patch of dark blue. The closest he had probably ever been to space. He had read somewhere that these big jets flew high. Really high. He gulped.

Charlie looked at Levet's watch, frowning as it showed that only two hours had gone by. He slumped back in his seat, once again tapping the armrest relentlessly.

About an hour later some flight attendants came by taking orders for dinner, and asking the passengers what they would like to drink. He and Levet both ordered the chicken dish, Charlie somewhat disappointed when it came back in one of those plastic-wrapped trays. He made a comment about them reminding him of TV Dinners. Afterwards his stomach began to disagree with what he had eaten.

"How much longer, mate?" he asked for the up-tenth time.

Levet sighed.

"I have to get off this plane soon," Charlie went on, grimacing as his stomach tightened.

"We should be there in less than an hour, okay?"

Moping: "Okay."

"Just…try to relax. Go to sleep for a while," Levet offered.

"Stop acting like a parent," Charlie replied angrily, his fingers tapping now faster than ever. Heroin Monster was hungry, and his mood was getting worse. He hit the back of his seat with his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Finally the little red button above his seat flashed on. Fasten Seatbelt. The pilot came on the intercom system, announcing that they were beginning their final decent into Sydney, Australia.

"FINALLY," exclaimed Charlie. Levet shook his head, smiling slightly.

"You really don't act your age, you know that?" he said.

"Oh, like you do?" Charlie retorted. Levet fell silent, something in his expression making Charlie wonder, not for the first time, how Levet had gotten to be how he was today. How he – the sensible nineteen-year-old – had ended up in a gang of…thugs and druggies.

Neither spoke again until the plane landed and they were grabbing their luggage. Charlie grabbed his off the luggage-check-machine and hefted it into the air. "ARG!" he yelped as he fell over from the sudden weight. "BLOODY 'ELL!"

The Southern man and "Sticks" walked past and snickered as the flustered ex-rock star struggled back to his feet. Charlie turned bright red. "What're you snickering at?" he snapped.

Levet looked skyward at Charlie's childish retort. "C'mon, Charlie, just ignore them. We have reservations at a hotel…and if we aren't there in…" he checked his watch, "in twenty minutes, they're giving the room to someone else."

Charlie gave the blonde people a dirty glare, and then followed Levet out of the airport, grumbling angrily, hands shoved into the warm pockets of his hoodie.

Charlie looked around the hotel room in disbelief. He had been expecting a broken mattress, a leaky toilet, and cockroaches…this was definitely better. There were two twin beds, neatly made up with fresh, clean white sheets. There was a TV, a VCR, and a CD player/radio/clock. "Man!"

Charlie dumped his bags done on the side of the bed on the left, and then collapsed onto the said bed. He sighed contently.

Levet shoved his bag up in the luggage rack in the closet. He rummaged through his messenger bag, pulled out a book, and tossed it at Charlie. "Read this…it's about Astrology."

Charlie, who had been smacked in the face by the book, groaned.

"Joy."

Levet shook his head. "Charlie, you got yourself into this…just be careful, and don't act like you know nothing about Astrology once we get there."

"What are you, my mum?"

"No." Levet reached for the remote and flipped on the television. Charlie sighed and turned the book over, gazing at the cover. There was an array of stars on the front. He stuck his finger into the book's crisp pages and stared at the words on the page. He never really read the printed letters; instead they whirled around inside of his mind, too quickly for him to focus.

And then it hit him.

It was as though someone had reached up and pulled the veil from his eyes, and he had the impression that he was going to throw up. He gazed up at the cottage cheese like ceiling above his head, blinking back shock. There he was in Sydney, Australia, with no idea what to do.

The conversation he had been through in the nightclub seemed incredibly distant, like it had happened years ago and to someone else.

But then he also realized that he was trapped. He blurrily remembered he had two weeks…two weeks, or else. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out the snapshot of the young woman he would be meeting soon. As he gazed at her, an unexpected pressure laid itself on his chest. He coughed, and looked up. Levet was standing in front of his bed, twirling his hat in his hands.

"What?" Charlie snapped, slipping the picture back into his pocket and pretending to scan the book.

Levet tilted his head. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just perfect." On an impulse, Charlie got up and headed quickly for the bathroom. He slammed the door and headed for the counter-sink, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. He clenched his quivering hands. Dry reality hit him, and hit him hard. He bent over the sink. And cried.

He had two weeks to break a heart all for membership in some gang he had gotten himself wrapped up in. Two weeks to ruin a happy life, or face dire consequences.

And then he thought about running. He was already in Australia, so why not?

After that Manson came to his mind and he wasn't so sure. He didn't know much about Manson, but that was because the people that did were either dead or twisted up in his tangle of threats, murder, and lies. He shivered, wiping his nose. He couldn't run. Then he would be dead for sure.

To ease his embroidered nerves, he pulled out his black baggie and turned away from the mirror.

After his fix he felt a considerable ease slide over him. He drifted from the bathroom and collapsed onto the bed, squinting in the brightness from the ceiling light. Levet was still clicking through channels, looking crestfallen.

"There's nothing on," he said after a while. Charlie thought he had spoken more to himself than to him, but he didn't really care. His head felt light as happy endorphins swam through him, the Heroin Monster satisfied.

"Eh," Charlie slurred. "'Ey…go back to E. OY THAT'S ME!"

Levet gave him a strange look as Charlie moved up to the edge of the bed to watch the DriveSHAFT E True Hollywood Story.

"We were able to catch up with the two members of DriveSHAFT. Here's our interviews from 2000 with Liam Pace, the lead singer, and Charlie Pace, the bassist and songwriter," the host said with a completely scripted smile.

The TV cut to a twenty-three-year-old Charlie standing there, looking pleased and excited, next to a twenty-seven-year-old Liam, who looked about the same.

"So, I understand that you two started the band DriveSHAFT…why did you decide to start a band?" the interviewer asked.

"Well, it started out when Charlie and me got guitars for Christmas…I was thirteen, and he was nine—cheeky little kid he was too," Liam smirked.

TV-Charlie laughed. "Oh, like you can talk, git!"

Real-Charlie felt a pang of sadness go through him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been that happy, or when he'd joked like that.

"What's your favorite thing about the band?"

Liam laughed, grinning cheekily. "Erm, the fans. Fun. I'm single, and I like women, make sure to add that!"

TV-Charlie chuckled.

"What about you, Charlie?"

"It's all about the music," TV-Charlie answered, nodding. "That's all it'll be for me. I love to play my guitar and write songs—and if the band gets away from the music, there's not anything left, is there?"

Charlie turned away. He was angry to find that his own words had come back to haunt him. He reached over and scraped the television remote from Levet's corner of the bed and pressed power just as the host had taken a deep, over-excited breath, as she was about to ask the next question. He glared at the blank screen, oblivious to the silence that had fallen around him.

"All about the music…" he whispered so quietly only he could hear. He felt an unexpected twinge behind his eyes and shook his head. "What a…a joke."

He couldn't help but feel miserable.

"Are you going to be ready for that Astrology thing this week?" Levet asked him, but Charlie pretended not to hear. He flipped over on his bed and held tight to the corners of his pillow. He wanted to punch himself. Or maybe he should go down to the help desk and have the big guy behind the counter lay one on him.

Charlie felt like dirt, but his eyelids were getting heavy. He closed them, falling into an uneasy sleep haunted by Manson and Fish-Face, circling around him inside his mind, taunting him. Far away he saw the glinting smile of the woman in the photograph. He felt as though someone had gripped his gut, twisted, and pulled. He felt guilty, angry, and confused.

What am I doing here? He wondered just before the dream-like images faded away into darkness.

In the meantime, Levet stared at Charlie's back. He was tempted to reach for the remote and turn the interview back on – he had never seen the younger Charlie or heard of DriveSHAFT (but of course he would never tell Charlie himself that) – it was interesting to see, but he decided against it. It seemed that Charlie had finally fallen asleep.

Levet noticed with a frown that the book he had given Charlie on Astrology was lying on the ground. He reached down and picked it up, and decided to research for him. He wouldn't let him blow this – not when it was a matter of life or death.

Charlie woke up in the morning, trying to keep that night's events out of his head. He noticed that Levet was asleep on the other bed, the Astrology book open on his chest, with one of his hands placed protectively over it. (A/N: Jaye: Okay, I had to do a peaceful-sleeping-Levet scene…from Meg-erm, Lils's description of him, he's cute. I HAD TO. ((Cheeky grin))) Charlie sighed, and then walked into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, took a look at his hair, decided that it looked brushed enough, and then walked back out and grabbed the room key. He bit his lip, looking from Levet to the door, shrugged, and walked out.

Levet woke slowly, less than twenty minutes after Charlie left. He yawned and sat up, the book falling off of his chest. The words "GEMINI—THE TWINS" flashed up at him. He looked around the room, still not fully awake. "Charlie?"

No response. "Charlie, you here?" he called again, starting to get worried. When he got no reply once again, he stood up, paling dramatically. Charlie had run. He knew it. He couldn't say he hadn't expected it, but he wasn't ready for it. Levet knew that Manson wouldn't touch Charlie if he didn't come back with results. It would be Liam, his wife, and the bubbly little girl that would pay the price.

And Levet couldn't let that happen.

Charlie sat downstairs in the breakfast area, drinking a Pepsi and staring down at his plate full of bacon and eggs and pancakes blankly. He couldn't get the smiling image of himself and Liam out of his head…couldn't get the words he'd spoken away from him. All about the music. There's nothing without the music.

At that moment, he hated himself more than anything. Oh, he could be mad at Liam for getting him started, pushing him over the edge—but Liam was the one that ended up right, wasn't he? The one with the family, the life, the happiness. And Charlie had drugs, the gang, and the TV interviews come back to haunt him. Great.

He sighed, and was about to go and dump the rest of his food in the trash, when he heard the squeak of sneakers on the tiles of the dining hall. He looked over his shoulder to see Levet walk over to him, looking extremely relieved.

"Could've left a note," Levet said, shaking his head. "I thought you ran."

Charlie shrugged. He wouldn't admit to Levet just how much he'd thought of doing so. He probably already knew anyway. He tended to be sensitive towards things like that.

"Sorry," Charlie said shortly.

"No…it's…it's fine," Levet replied. "You just…scared me a bit."

"Sorry." Charlie glanced back at the breakfast buffet. "Want somethin'?"

Levet shook his head. "Never much for, uh, hotel food."

Charlie nodded, understanding. And then a shout and a scream from across the room drew his attention. An old lady in a corner booth gasped as a brawny man marched past her, knocking her cup of coffee off her table and onto the carpet. Although Charlie could only see the back of the man, he thought he knew his walk: A sullen, sloppy gait with large steps and highly animated shoulders and arms. He gasped and said, "The bugger from the airport!"

"Sawyer, wait!" a woman shrieked. She came pouring into the room after him. Her voice was a high-pitched wail and she reached out for his back, her silk robe gliding behind her. "I said wait!" She finally reached him, and spun him around, gasping. "Where do you think you're going? You can't leave me here! We're in the middle of no where for Christ's sake!"

By now all of the breakfast room's occupants had stopped their eating to stare. Charlie looked on with distaste, gripping the table.

"I said where do you think you're going?"

"Back!" the man named Sawyer snapped, throwing her hands off of him.

"Why?" the woman cried, clearly hysterical. She was standing with her hip jutting out to one side, arms crossed, her make-up running down from her eyes. She didn't seem to care that she was the center of attention at the moment, even though many peoples' worst nightmares was to be caught naked – or nearly naked – in front of a crowd.

"Becu'z…" Sawyer grumbled.

"But I thought you said you had something to do here. That's why I came to this shithole with you! How am I supposed to get back?" the woman was relentless, and Charlie was beginning to feel something courageous creep up inside him.

"Well I guess you're outta luck, Sticks."

"Wait just a minute!"

Charlie didn't know what came over him. One moment he was just sitting low at his table, unnoticed, and the next he was standing up, the limelight now shining down on his shoulders. He felt all eyes linger on him for a moment, and then switch back to the arguing couple, and then back to him once more.

Levet pulled on his sleeve.

"Char-lie…"

"Well look who it is!" Sawyer announced grandly, cracking a grin. Charlie scowled, clenching his fists. "You got somethin' ta' say, Mr. E channel?"

"You…you watched – "

"Char-lie!"

"Quiet, Levet," Charlie hissed, brushing him away. He turned back to Sawyer. "Yeh, yeh I do! You can't treat her like that!" He puffed out his chest, and expected the young woman to swoon and agree with him. Instead, she laughed.

"Don't try to act like a hero, kid," she said. "I've already got my brother for that." And then she put her arm around Sawyer, who grinned. "And don't worry about me." She kissed him.

When they were through, Sawyer gave Charlie a look.

"Got anythin' else you want to add?" he taunted.

"Charlie!"

"Yeah—yeah, I do!" Charlie walked forward and punched Sawyer in the chin. Levet paled, and the blonde woman raised an eyebrow.

"You're gonna wish you ain't done that, Vh1," Sawyer snarled. He slugged Charlie in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards.

Charlie got back up, and shot, "You pansy!"

Sawyer shoved him onto the ground. Charlie kicked his legs out from under him, sending Sawyer sprawling onto the ground with him.

"Charlie! Stop!" Levet yelled.

"Don't tell me what to do!" As if to prove that Levet couldn't boss him around, Charlie stood up again, glaring down at the man. "Didn't your mum ever teach you how to treat a lady? You can't just leave that woman here with no way back—that's just wrong. She's near hysterics, and you're yelling at her. Learn some manners, git."

Sawyer got back to his feet, glaring at Charlie murderously. Levet stepped between them. "CUT IT OUT!"

Sawyer shoved the teenager out of the way. Levet stumbled, unable to regain his balance, and fell backwards. His head hit the back of the table with a sickening crack, and then he went limp.

"NO!" Charlie yelped in horror. Sawyer looked down at the unconscious Levet, watching as blood trickled down his neck, his eyes wide. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! CALL THE HOSPITAL!" Charlie yelled at him, kneeling down next to Levet.

"Levet—Levet, can you hear me?" Charlie asked desperately. "Levet—Alec! Come on, mate, don't, don't die on me! Please, don't die…"

The blonde woman was no longer smiling, but was staring at Sawyer with large eyes as he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. "'Ello? Get down to this hotel—no, not the one in Canterbury, you idiot! The one in Sydney—LISTEN TO ME. THERE'S A KID DOWN HERE THAT'S HURT. GEDDOWN HERE NOW!"

Charlie was breathing fast, his head spinning. All he could think of doing was setting Levet's body up from the floor, and decided to work from there. He reached up and fumbled around, groping the top of the table Alec had fallen against, and grabbed a handful of napkins. He then pressed the napkins against the kid's head, trying not to look at all of the hotel guests that were standing around him, staring. Some of them had their hands over their mouths, others were leaving, and still the majority of them were on their cell phones, talking rapidly.

"Don't die…oh…God, please!" Charlie dropped the bloodied napkins on the floor and ordered for more. This time, a lady in a red uniform came up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. She was just a young lady, no more than twenty, and she looked badly shaken. Charlie vaguely remembered her standing behind the breakfast counter when he had come down – no doubt she had seen the entire argument – but she handled herself well. Her voice was level even though her hands shook and she was deathly pale.

"We need to get him out to the front," she said. "That's where the – the ambulance'll be…come, I mean."

"Okay." Charlie nodded numbly. "Don't die…come on, man…"

And then, to Charlie's amazement, Levet opened his eyes and coughed. "Levet!" Charlie cried happily, but it seemed as though Levet wasn't all the way with him. The kid's eyes were out of focus as he gazed around.

"I'm not gonna die," he said stubbornly, so quietly Charlie could barely hear him, but the fact that he was talking filled him with relief. In the distance he heard sirens.

Together, he and the young woman supported Levet out of the breakfast room and into the main lobby, the two of them holding up his arms, half leading, half dragging him out in front of the help desk. By then, paramedics were rushing into the reception area, shouting for the other customers that had gathered to get back, and making a dash for Levet.

Charlie was shocked at how quickly Alec was pulled away from him. One second he could feel the kid's weight on his shoulder, and then the next, he was standing outside "the circle", the helpful hotel employee standing in a daze next to him. They watched in silence as Levet was loaded onto a stretcher and out the hotel doors, both of them numbly aware of the other's presence.

"Did you know him?"

"Levet?" Charlie was startled. "Yeah."

And then, a young man jogged up to him, dressed in hospital attire. He was tall, thin, with short dark hair, a lean face, and an abnormally composed expression. He looked Charlie directly in the eyes as he spoke.

"Excuse me, I'm a doctor. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Is he going to be alright?" the hotel lady asked. The doctor nodded, and turned his attention back to Charlie. He frowned for a moment at him, like he knew something, and then asked the question again.

"Look, I got into a fight with the guy that called—Levet tried to stop it, got shoved out of the way by the other guy, and smacked his head against the bleedin' table!" Charlie paused. "…No pun intended."

The doctor nodded. "Do you need a ride to the hospital?"

A look of immense relief filled Charlie's face. "Yeah, y-yeah, I do. Thanks. I'm Charlie."

"Yeah, I know," the doctor nodded. "My wife made me watch E last night."

"Did everyone in the sodding country watch that?" Charlie asked, shaking his head miserably.

The doctor shook his head, smiling slightly. "I'm Doctor Sheppard."

"Okay."

After having gotten a ride to the hospital that Levet was currently resting in, Charlie sat in the waiting room, fidgeting nervously. Levet's words rang in his ears. "I'm not gonna die."

Levet was confident in that—Charlie knew. But he wasn't so sure. How could people know if they wouldn't die, anyway? Charlie sighed.

"Excuse me? Mr. Pace?"

Charlie looked up at the nurse. "Is he okay? Levet?"

"Well…" the nurse bit her lip. "He's awake. He's been asking for you. Stubborn thing he is."

Charlie nodded, smiling slightly. Yeah, that was Levet. The nurse led him back to the room. Levet grinned weakly at him. "Hey."

"Hey."

Levet was sitting up, propped forward by at least four pillows. He had the remote to the television that was set up on the wall tucked under his limp hand. The current program had been interrupted by commercials – some body-builder woman flaunting her newly-sculpted abs and going on and on about the miracle of diet and "This new, amazing, remarkable exercise machine!"

Charlie walked further into the hospital room, upholding a smile that he hoped was laid-back and comforting.

"You look worried."

Charlie sighed.

"Yeah…well…you, uh, I thought – "

Levet tilted his head and grinned weakly. Charlie could tell he was tired, and didn't blame the kid.

" – You thought I was dead, didn't you?" he said, his dark brown hair falling over his eyes.

Charlie crossed his arms, trying to suppress a shiver that ran down his spine. He wondered how Levet could be so calm. He didn't say anything, so Levet kept on. "What happened after I fell?"

"Uh, well, after you, uh, fell…well…we called the hospital and – "

"No, I mean what happened to that son of a bitch?"

"Oh." Charlie felt a flare of hot anger. He felt a hollow pain in his chest where the man had hit him. "That guy. I'm sure he's up to his ears in nightsticks, interrogations, and lawsuits. Maybe some pepper-spray, too. I hope anyway. I never actually saw if he, erm, got…well…anyway, I'm sure he's having fun down at the station right now."

All of this was a lie, of course. Charlie couldn't remember seeing the man after the guy had called the hospital. It made him furious to think about, but he and his girlfriend had probably run.

"You know you have to get out of here," Levet said suddenly.

"What?"

"The Astrology thing. It's today."

END OF CHAPTER!

Lils: Now review please!