A/N: Yup, another update already. What can I say? Reviews inspire me. If you guys keep it up, so will I.

Disclaimer: Same.

ACT: 9

Venice Memorial Hospital: 8:10 pm

Doctor Helen Drake ran a weary hand across the back of her aching neck as she waited for the cup of vending machine coffee to fill. As head of the Emergency Department the hours were long and the job demanding. Especially when a doctor called out and she was left holding the bag. It was twelve hours into her double shift and it had been a rough one. Though the past hour had been quiet, thankfully so. Reaching for the steaming cup, she had just taken a sip when her pager began to buzz.

"Dammit," she cursed as the PA system closely followed the page.

"Doctor Drake, ER stat. Doctor Drake ER stat."

Rushing down the corridor, she made a sharp left turn and pushed forcefully through the white swinging doors.

"Whatta we got?" she asked all business as the gurneys began rolling in.

"One DOA, from an apparent gun shot wound, and two seriously injured from an MVA," rattled off the African American charge nurse.

"Ok, let's move it guys," Dr. Drake said decisively to the ER staff assembled around her. "Get that gurney to the morgue," she indicated which with a nod of her head. "And roll the other two into curtains seven and eight."

Turning the other patient over to Dr. Newman, Dr. Drake entered curtain seven. She was confronted by a young man possibly in his early twenties. His clothing had already been cut away and a blanket had been thrown over him for dignity. He was barely conscious as he grit his teeth together in obvious pain. While the nurse stood to the side taking his vital signs, Dr. Drake lowered her stethoscope to listen to his heart and lungs. "Good breath sounds bilaterally and his heart appears fine," she announced. "Multiple contusions and abrasions, but so far he seems ok."

"Sir," she asked shinning a penlight into his eyes, "Do you know where you are?"

"Tyler," he said in a pained whisper.

"Huh?" she asked in confusion.

"Name's Tyler," he clarified.

"Very good," said Doctor Drake. "But do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

"And can you tell me where you hurt?"

"Just my head," he grated.

"Are you sure?" Doctor Drake asked; worry clouding her hazel colored eyes.

"Pretty sure," Tyler answered.

Pulling back the blanket that covered the young man's legs, Dr. Drake gazed at the multitude of bruises and cuts on them. There was no way in hell they shouldn't be paining him.

"Tyler, this is really important. I need you to wiggle your toes for me, ok."

The young man gave a painful nod, and Dr Drake waited to see the results. But just as she feared, nothing happened.

"Again please," she spoke calmly. And once again nothing happened. "That's fine," she glanced at him reassuringly. "The nurse is going to give you something for pain while I check in next door."

With a nod of her head, Drake had the nurse follow her into the hallway.

"Give him two milligrams of morphine and get orthopedics down here, stat."

"Right away doctor," said the young nurse in blue scrubs as she rushed towards the nursing station.

With a heavy sign, Dr. Drake headed into curtain eight. The various beeps and personnel surrounding the young girl immediately registered with her, and set off her alarm. "How's it going in here?" she addressed this question to Dr. Newman.

"Not good," the sandy haired baby-faced intern pronounced. Stepping away from the bed, he waved Drake over to the side so that he could speak to her in confidence. Although he hadn't been a doctor for long, even he knew unconscious patients could still hear you sometimes.

"We're trying to get her stabilized," he said quietly, "But she's hemorrhaging from somewhere. We're sending her up to the OR, but it doesn't look good." He shook his head grimly.

"What in the hell happened out there tonight?" Drake asked rhetorically.

"I hear the DOA and MVA are all connected," one of the nurses's whispered.

Dr. Drake took this information with a grain of salt, merely nodding her head. Cindy was known for being one of the biggest gossips around, so who knew what to believe coming from her.

"I'm going out there to speak with the police. Notify me when the parent's arrive," Dr. Drake said tiredly before exiting the room.

-&-

Little over an hour later the Parker's arrived at Venice Memorial. Their features were pale and eyes frantic as they rushed through the emergency room doors. They had been visiting with Nancy's sister in the next town over when they got the call.

As they approached the information desk, Nancy began to babble anxiously, "They said my children were brought in earlier, car accident, Elizabeth and Tyler Parker, please tell me they're alright."

Jeff Parker though silent, held onto his wife's hand like a lost child and waited for the ax to fall. He'd been through this before with his parent's, and his gut was telling him that this time was just as bad. If either of his children were…no, he couldn't think that way. That type of thinking led to insanity, and he needed all his senses intact right now.

"If you'll follow me," the desk clerk said kindly, "I'll take you to Dr. Drake's office where she will explain everything."

As Jeff and Nancy Parker followed the desk clerk in the direction she indicated, one thought was uppermost in both of their minds. Our lives will never be the same again.

-&-

Forty-five minutes later their predictions were right. The expressions on their faces as they exited Dr. Drake's office ranged from grief to disbelief. Nancy especially was having a hard time dealing with what she had been told. They were liars, she thought. Every last one of them. From the blonde lady doctor right down to the police. Even Maria DeLuca, whom she had watched grow up.

So deeply was she entangled in her own web of denial, that the ping from the elevator startled her. She hadn't even been aware of her feet moving in any predetermined direction after leaving Dr. Drake's office. But f course they had. She needed to be with her children. Grabbing Jeff tightly by the hand, Nancy moved to step onto the elevator only to come face to face with a grieving Philip and Diane Evans.

And that's when it hit her, like an elephant, a train, or like truth when it's real. Everything she had been told had happened. And she could no longer deny it. With a muffled cry, she turned and stumbled in the opposite direction. Running away from a truth she was yet unable to face.

-&-

The first thing Liz saw when she opened her eyes was the stark whiteness of the hospital room walls. Blinking several times, she shifted in the bed only to wince as her slight movement pulled at the IV line attached to her hand. It was then that it all came flooding back to her, the shooting, she and Tyler speeding away, Max giving chase, the accident and her baby. Oh God, what about my baby? As she tried to sit up, she was hampered by shooting pains throughout her body. They caused her to cry out, awaking her mother who had been asleep in a chair.

Liz watched Nancy and her mother watched her. She stared at Liz with sad, bruised eyes, her face washed of color in the early morning light. There were so many things Liz wanted to say, but the words stuck in her throat. All she could utter was, "Mom…" and even to her own ears it sounded like a plea for comfort, forgiveness, and everything in between.

-&-

Two days later, Liz was labeled fit enough to leave the hospital. The length of her brother Tyler's stay was as yet, undetermined. At the moment, she sat perched on the hospital bed staring morosely at the cracks in the floor as she waited for her parent's to return. They were somewhere in the hospital signing her discharge papers. She knew they blamed her for everything that happened. How could they not. She blamed herself. Because of her, several lives had been shattered beyond repair. And her baby…well, she hadn't even had time to relish the idea. And now she never could.

A knock at the partially opened door startled her from her grim thoughts. When she looked up, she saw the last person she ever expected to see standing there.

"May I speak with you, Ms Parker?" Philip Evans asked, already stepping into the room.

Liz had only ever seen Philip Evans from a distance. Up close the man was as formidable as she imagined. His eyes were cool and his expression grim as he stared back at her. Great. What new misfortune would befall her next?

"I'll make this quick," he said, his voice like ice. "I can't imagine what you and my son thought you were doing. And at this point I don't even want to know. The damaged caused by your secret…whatever it was, is immeasurable." Philip said bitterly, and Liz flinched. "Anyway, since my lawyers have advised Max to keep a low profile, he wanted me to give you this." He handed Liz a sealed envelope with her name on it.

Holding the letter listlessly, Liz watched at he made to exit the room only to be stymied by her parent's entering it.

"What the hell are you doing here Evans?" Jeff Parker barked.

"I was just leaving."

"Yeah, well you stay the hell away from my family!" Jeff Parker took a threatening step forward.

"Jeff don't." Nancy pleaded as she stood beside him.

"No big mystery where your son gets his violent tendencies," Philip said blandly.

"And what about yours, huh," Whatta call running my children off the road?"

"An accident. Compounded by grief."

"Yeah right. I'm sure that's how your lawyers will spin it. Meanwhile, your son will get off scott free while my boy is paralyzed."

"And my other son is DEAD!" Philip shouted expressing anger for the first time since entering the room. "So you tell me, who's the winner in this one?" He shoved passed Jeff and exited the room.

His words lingered long after he was gone, ricocheting around the room leaving an uncomfortable echo.

"I'm gonna go get the car," Jeff said to no one in particular as he left the room.

"Liz…you alright?" Nancy asked her daughter who had been silent throughout the entire exchange.

Glancing up from the short letter she'd just read, Liz shook her head unable to speak. Was she alright? What a joke. Her life currently read like a bad soap opera. Worst of all, there was no writing to team to make it all just a bad dream. As she read and re-read Max's letter for the umpteenth time, she began to sob uncontrollable.

"Oh, baby girl don't," Nancy Parker rushed towards the bed to comfort her distressed daughter, embracing her in a tight hug.

"Mom?" Liz finally whispered, lifting her head from her mother's shoulder after several minutes of crying.

"What baby? asked Nancy, her eyes red-rimmed too.

"Why him?"

Nancy knew exactly what her daughter was asking. Pondering her answer for a few seconds she said, "love is funny that way. We don't choose who we're attracted to, who we're willing to risk everything for. Maybe there's a need inside all of us only a certain person can fulfill. A need that is blind to who that person is, but is fed by who that person is to us."

"And you don't blame me?" Liz stared at her mother with sad brown eyes.

"Blame you for what?" Nancy's blue eyes were puzzled.

"For everything that's happened."

"Oh, Liz," Nancy stared at her daughter heartsick. When she'd seen Tyler getting more and more out of control, she thrown a tight leash on Liz. But it had been unfair. More than that, it had been a mistake. Because she had imposed such stringent rules on her daughter, Liz had been forced to lead a double life. How could Nancy hold her culpable for that.

Cupping her daughter's face between her hands, Nancy said: "You listen to me baby girl, none of this is your fault. And don't you ever think it is. What happened happened. All we can do is go on with our lives from here."

-&-

Present Time: Los Angeles Police Department, June 22, 2005.

"Wow." Detective Morgan said, feeling like he'd just listened to a modern day retelling on Romeo and Juliet.

"Yeah, big whoop," Liz said grimly, and watched the detective fidget uncomfortably under her solemn gaze.

"Sorry," he said contritely. "I didn't mean to trivialize your pain."

"I'm sure you didn't. And I'm the one who's sorry," Liz sighed grimly. "Sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hold on to."

"Kathy Bates in Delores Claiborne, right?"

"Right," Liz said and the two shared a short laugh.

"Umm, just to clarify a few things here," the detective was all business once again. "It's my understanding that (A) you and Max Evans had a secret relationship. (B) Your brother found out, objected, and killed Max's brother during the confrontation. And (C) Max Evans ran you off the road paralyzing your brother and killing your unborn child in the process."

"Well, that's the cliffs notes version of it anyway," Liz smiled sardonically.

"I'm sorry Ms Parker, but I'm a little confused. What bearing do the events of seven years ago have on what happened today. By your own account you received a dear John letter from Max Evans the day you were released from the hospital. So how did you come to be in his company tonight?"

Liz smiled humorlessly before answering. "How do the events of seven years ago have any bearing on the events of today? Hmm. I guess you weren't listening when I said this was a long story."

"Ms Parke—"

"Liz, please, and let me finish. See, about two months ago the company I work for," Liz rattled off the name and watched the detective's eyes widen. Boy was he easily impressed. "Anyway, my company is always looking for investors, so I was sent to this conference in Fresno to give a sales pitch. I'll give you three guesses who was there."

"Max Evans."

"Bingo." Liz smiled ruefully. "You see what happened was…."

A/N: Wow! This chapter took a detour even I wasn't expecting. Mad, sad, disappointed? Let me know what you guys think.

tbc…maybe