A/N: Same disclaimers apply. I still don't own the show or anything. Please don't sue me.

Elizabeth stretched out on a dilapidated, old brown sofa, wriggling her toes. She had just painted her toenails recently and liked the way the light caught the iridescent nail polish. She yawned, however, because staring at her toes wasn't exactly the most exciting thing in the world. Her eyes were slowly closing but she fought to stay awake. She felt so sleepy but she always waited up for Graceila to get home. Maybe it was because she had disappeared once or maybe it was just natural but Elizabeth couldn't sleep without knowing Graceila was home safe.

Light from the television flickered in the dark room, creating strange shadows on the dirty white walls. She knew that she and Graceila should paint the walls some time but that thought just came and went tonight. Her mind was fuzzy from a desire to sleep. More than once Elizabeth jumped up, thinking she heard someone coming. Instead she listened the couple in the apartment above hers arguing again. They did it every night.

Elizabeth suddenly wondered if she should go up there and make it stop. It wasn't like she couldn't do it after all. And her neighbors didn't seem to care that she was one of the 4400 but that didn't give her license to do whatever she wanted. She knew it would probably scare them more than it would help. And even then, it would only be a temporary fix. She didn't quite know how to control some of the newer aspects of her ability yet.

Elizabeth heard the phone ringing but it sounded distant. It took a moment but she sat up as quickly as she could and began searching the room for the cordless receiver. It was probably buried in the cushions of the sofa or maybe one of the chairs. She finally pulled it out from under the recliner. Before she could pick it up, the answering machine took the call. Elizabeth sighed and waited for the tone to hear who was calling. She dropped the receiver when she heard the voice on the other end.

"Um, I don't really know what to say," a deep male voice said with a nervous chuckle. "I probably shouldn't have called you. It's just that ... I got your phone number from Jordan Collier and I thought that we could get together sometime and just talk or something. I'll try back tomorrow. Maybe. Bye."

Elizabeth tried to pick up before the caller had hung up but was too late. She closed her eyes and took a deep, centering breath. She had been expecting Jordan to get someone else to come after her, of course. She had sensed it coming as she walked from the park to her apartment. Elizabeth had hoped she'd be home when the call came. She was home but as always, she hadn't been able to answer the phone fast enough to get the caller's name.

"You look totally freaked out, Lizzie," Graceila said as she set her keys on the table next to the door. "What's up?"

Elizabeth hadn't even heard Graceila come in. She looked over at her friend and forced a smile although it looked as forced as it felt. Her legs started to feel wobbly and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand on her own for much longer. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor, her legs tucked under her. Her mouth was too dry and she couldn't seem to make it work. Not that she knew what she could even say to Graceila.

"Hey," Graceila softly continued as she walked over, "what's wrong, sweetheart? You don't look so good." She looked genuinely concerned for her friend, wondering if Elizabeth was getting sick or if some prank phone calls had started up or something.

Elizabeth stared at the telephone receiver on the floor near her feet. "Someone called," she finally said. Her voice was like a whisper. "It was ... I think it was one ..."

"Someone like you?"

Elizabeth slowly nodded. She watched as Graceila replayed the message. The voice brought an image to her mind. It was a young man. He was about her age and was handsome – even if he wasn't her type. She could feel the nervousness in his voice reverberate in her head. The connection was cut short as Graceila placed a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.

"Jordan Collier's bad news," she said, crouching down to look her friend in the eye. She brushed some of Elizabeth's blonde hair away from her eyes. "We talked about this, remember? This is the last thing you need right now."

"Is it?" Elizabeth suddenly retorted. It came out sounding angrier than she had meant for it to sound but she quickly realized it came out exactly as it should have. She pushed her friend's hand away. "Maybe it's time I started spending time with others ..."

"Like you? Is that what this is about?" Graceila shouted as she straightened up. Her dark eyes were alight with anger. "Hell, I'm not stopping you. Go! Spend time getting to know other returnees if that's what will make you happy. But don't forget who your friends are, Lizzie. We're not the enemy. I'm not your enemy. You know that, right?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She was tired and she was hungry and she was completely confused. She nodded her head as she pushed herself up off the floor. She opened her eyes to find Graceila standing beside her, looking more worried than Elizabeth ever recalled seeing her friend. She turned toward the kitchen but suddenly stopped herself short. Elizabeth quickly turned away and headed for her bedroom.

Something to eat would have been an improvement and on any other day she would have rummaged through the refrigerator with Graceila. The two would've warmed something up in the microwave and talked until two in the morning. Tonight, however, Elizabeth needed time to think. She needed to figure out what she was going to do in the morning. The last thing she needed was someone else telling her what she needed to do. If she stayed up to talk with Graceila, Elizabeth knew it was exactly what would have happened.