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An- OMG! I'm so stoked to see the reviews and the story alert/favorite story notifications! Anyway, here's the next chapter. =) Enjoy!

Slow beeping came from the machines. Beep. Beep. Beep. The noise was a constant drone, one that became louder and softer with my awareness. I faded in and out of it as time passed. Sometimes it passed by in the blink of an eye, several hours gone in what felt like minutes. Other times, it dragged on, slow, agonizing.

Time was relative. Time didn't matter until she woke up.

Murph was in and out of the room. At first he tried to get me to talk; eventually he was silent when he dropped in, sitting at Ericka's bedside with me. By all rational thought, I knew that just sitting there, waiting for her to wake up wasn't going to make her come back any faster. But I couldn't make myself leave- what if she woke up? Three days had passed and it seemed less and less likely that she would ever open her eyes again; but that didn't stop me from hoping and praying like a religious madman.

"Conn?" Murphy was standing next to me. I hadn't noticed him enter the dimly lit room. "Connor?" he asked again, this time a bit louder. I glanced up at him.

"What d'ya need?"

"Nothing. Just checking in on you." He said softly.

"I'm fine."

Murph made a noise- like he was calling bullshit on me. "When's the last time you left this room?" I didn't answer- I honestly didn't know. "C'mon. Let's get you a smoke, fresh air would do ya some good." His voice became pleading. "Conn. Please. Humor me here."

I couldn't say no to him, not when he used that tone of voice. I got up slowly and followed him outside. My muscles ached from sitting in that damn chair for so long. I stretched and took a deep breath of the cold air, lightheaded. Murph lit two cigarettes and handed one to me. We stood on the curb in silence until we finished our smokes. I made to go back inside the hospital. Murph grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, c'mon. Give it a rest. You've been in that damn room since we got here. Ericka would kill you if she saw you like this."

I shrugged, knowing he was right. "Probably."

"She'd eat you alive." He let go of me and crossed his arms over his chest. For once, he wasn't fidgeting or moving about restlessly- very out of character for him. "Take an hour or two. Go back to the hotel, shower, get some clean clothes, food, catch a couple hours of sleep if you need to. I'll sit with her if it'll make you feel better. Please? For me?"

I sighed and nodded, giving in. Murph fished the car keys and pager out of his pocket. "I'll let you know if something comes up." He handed them to me and clapped my arm before turning on his heel and walking back into the hospital.

I drove around in circles for a while. The motel was the last place I wanted to go- dirty and depressing, the idea made me crawl out of my skin. I drove to the apartment, not realizing what I was doing until I stood at the front door. It was home, and I needed a few creature comforts.

I was surprised to find the apartment almost exactly how we left it. I noticed a bottle of whisky had migrated from the counter to the table, and Roc's duffel was missing. Ericka probably took it with her. I picked up the bottle and poured myself a glassful- Something about wandering around the apartment, drinking straight out of the bottle just screamed 'rock bottom' to me.

Of course, keeping the glass an arm's length from the shower could also be considered rock bottom. I forced my muscles to relax under the hot water. It was like there was too much energy in my body, all sorts of wound up- actually, I was pretty sure I had real sense of how Murphy felt most days- No wonder he fidgets so much.

I wandered around the apartment, towel around my waist, trashing the bloodstained jeans I had been wearing and throwing Murph's borrowed shirt into a corner. Clothes had a real habit of disappearing around the apartment; usually they were found in a corner, or in a rouge dresser drawer. It turned out they were folded up and put away in the proper places. I vaguely wondered who did it, seeing as how none of us were clean freaks- well, aside from Ericka that is, but she had certainly become lax in the last week she had been sick.

Fully dressed, I grabbed a brown paper bag and started to pack- Some clothes for both Ericka and Murphy, the weapons and ammo we had left in the place. Sudden inspiration struck me when I sat down on the couch for a moment- the chest that doubled as the coffee table. I had never bothered to look in there. I crouched down in front of it and lifted the lid. It was mostly paperwork and a huge stack of manila folders- I made a mental note to get Ericka a filing cabinet. If she ever wakes up that is. I pushed the thought away as I pawed through the mess, looking for, well, anything. My fingertips brushed a metal something. Cautiously, I pulled out whatever I was holding. The dog tags I held up glinted in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Her brother's tags and her own were linked together. I pocketed them, figuring that she would at least want the ones that had belonged to Erick.

I looked around the apartment and took one last long glance, knowing instinctively that I wasn't going to return. I closed the door with a sharp, final click and walked back to the car. I took the tags out of my pocket and hung them up on the rearview mirror. They swung back and forth like a pendulum as I drove back to the hospital. Just as I parked, the pager buried deep in my coat pocket started to beep. My stomach bottomed out; I wanted to vomit.

Something's happened. Something's happened.

I took the stairs and sprinted the four flights to the ICU, rounding the corners of the doorway and the nurses' station with a reckless abandon. I nearly knocked an old man on a walker over; I shouted a hasty apology over my shoulder, skidding to a halt in front of the glass window. Ericka wasn't there.

"Fuck!" I felt my hands shaking, my whole body cold.

She's dead. She's gone. I wasn't there with her. Oh God…..

"Conn! Connor!" A shorter man placed hands on my shoulders. "We've been trying to find you for the last hour, where in the hell-?" I recognized him as Smecker.

"Ericka's gone." My voice trembled. Smecker hushed me. "Calm down, shh. Calm down. It's alright-"

"No! It's not fucking alright!" Smecker sighed in frustration and started steering in a direction; I followed along, numbly, eyes burning. He opened a door and pushed me inside.

Murphy, Annie, and a random doctor were gathered around a bed. Murph caught sight of me and immediately grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling me towards the bed. "He's here, I told you he didn't leave."

"Conn?" came a very strained and weak voice. "You're here." I couldn't believe my ears or my eyes.

Ericka was lying there on the bed, looking pale and alarmingly thin, but alive. I broke into a fresh set of tears just looking at her, bending over bed side. "I thought you were….you were…."

She smiled weakly, reaching a hand out to touch my face. "You really think I would die that easy?" she whispered tiredly. "You could only get so lucky." I kissed her forehead, laughing a little.

Lucky. Lucky indeed.