Andrea was so worried; she stood pacing in front of Cassidy’s building. She’d been knocking on her door for the past hour and a half, and decided to wait out front until Cassidy returned; she had left her own key that last day they’d been together. She kept running nervous hands through her hair; she was so worried and scared. She’d seen the way Cassidy looked after not seeing her all that time, and it was not good. She knew Cassidy was doing something unhealthy, and she wanted to stop her. But she didn’t know where to find her.

Andrea leaned against her car, staring up at the building. She tried to see any sign of movement inside Cassidy’s window, thinking that maybe Cassidy was trying to avoid her. But no, there was nothing. She stood helplessly outside, feeling tears filling her eyes. She wondered why Cassidy was doing this to her, to herself, when they could just fall into each other’s arms and be happy together. She loved Cassidy so much, was so in love with her. She was suffering. She didn’t care if Cassidy didn’t feel the same way towards her; she’d be willing to try to win her heart in any way she could.

A movement caught her eye to her left, and she turned her eyes to the source. Cassidy. Stumbling up the block, trying to hold her own self up with a hand grabbing at fences, her feet dragged one after the other; her body leaned heavily against the fences. She was struggling noisily for breath, her eyelids fluttering, eyes rolling; she held a hand to her chest, grasping her shirt tightly, pulling at it. Andrea could see the sweat gathered thickly all over her forehead, could see the struggle to stay upright. A struggle that she was loosing.

"Cassidy!" Andrea cried out as she ran to her side, and noticed with dismay the white powder lingering around her nostrils. "Oh God, no!"

"Andy…" Cassidy whispered brokenly. Then her eyes rolled in their sockets, and she tipped forward, falling to the cement, face forward with a loud thud.

"Cassidy!" Andrea screamed, shaking her by the shoulder. She flipped her over and was horrified to see that the area around her lips was blue, a sign that she was already not breathing. With a cry, Andrea reached into her purse for her cellular and dialed 9-1-1.

Within minutes, an ambulance was there; the paramedics were working over Cassidy. They’d resuscitated her and were now readying her for a quick transportation to the hospital.

Andrea sat nearby, sobbing desperately into the shoulder of a female neighbor of Cassidy’s.

Ashleigh, Robie, Gretchen and George sat having a very early breakfast in a nearby restaurant. Gretchen was telling them what she’d seen in the bar, when Cassidy had run out on Andrea. They’d been there, waiting to hear from Andrea about Cassidy. Robie stared at the table pensively, while the others talked quietly. Around a mouthful of egg sandwich, George said with finality: "Let’s go to Cassidy’s place, we’re wasting time here."

Ashleigh agreed and all four women stood up, while at the same time George signaled for the ticket. The ring of Ashleigh’s cellular telephone jarred them momentarily. Crisply, Ashleigh answered. "We have one of your patients here, Doctor Simmons." A nurse at her hospital replied after introducing herself. "Not in very good condition, ma’am. Critical."

"Name?" Ashleigh demanded, dread a bad feeling at the pit of her full stomach. She was already striding out of the restaurant, Robie and Gretchen following; George remained behind to pay the bill.

The nurse remained impersonal; the sound of shuffling papers annoying as she looked for the name. "The name is Cassidy Monsignor." She finally answered.

Ashleigh’s step faltered, and she tried to remain matter of fact. "Give me details." She ordered, her voice thick, unlocking the doors to her black Saab quickly, climbing in.

The nurse reported, reading from the papers: "Overdose on Cocaine, was brought in after a pulmonary arrest…"

Ashleigh closed her eyes against the anxiety the report conjured, one hand gripping the steering wheel tightly. Gretchen and Robie knew something was up, and they didn’t allow her to close her door yet. George had joined them and demanded to know what was going on. As the nurse finished her report, Ashleigh said: "Ill be there in ten minutes." And hung up, looking up at her friends with expressionless eyes. "Get in." She instructed softly.

"What is it?" Gretchen demanded, while at the same time all of them were climbing into the black Saab, George in the front and the rest in the back.

Ashleigh started the car, and drove quickly out of the restaurant’s parking lot. She remained quiet, concentrating on the road. "Ashleigh," George said softly. "Tell us what’s going on. Is it Cassidy?"

Ashleigh nodded slowly, and bit her lower lip. "She’s in the hospital again." She said wearily, shaking her head slowly, hearing Gretchen’s breath catch from behind her. "Overdosed on coke."

A sudden outburst from George startled them all; she pounded on the headboard wildly, cursing. Suddenly, she stopped, staring out the windshield. "Damn it!" She yelled, pounding again on the headboard. "Is she alive?" She asked, suddenly calm, slouching on her seat.

Ashleigh nodded yes as she made a right on that last street before the hospital. "Pulmonary arrest." She replied. "She’s in critical condition."

"Who found her?" Gretchen asked quietly.

Ashleigh searched the rearview mirror for Robie, who seemed at a loss of words and close to tears. She sighed. "I don’t know." She said. She pulled into the emergency room parking lot, and stopped the car, glancing at George. "Park it, will you?" She said, and didn’t wait for an answer, jumping out and running towards the entrance. She caught sight of Andrea as she ran up towards the entrance to the restricted area of the emergency area.

Andrea saw her with tearful, red-rimmed eyes, and stood up from the chair she was huddling on. She stared after her as Ashleigh acknowledged her with a perfunctory nod. She strode in through the heavy double doors to the emergency room. The head doctor of the emergency room, a stocky gray haired man in his forties, greeted her, already knowing that she was coming in. He pulled her towards the area Cassidy was in as she donned the scrubs. "How’s she holding up, Marco?" She demanded.

"Stable now, Ashleigh, but very critical." He replied; his voice was expressionless. "I know she’s a personal friend of yours, and that you’re her doctor as well, but you need to be practical. Okay?" Ashleigh nodded. "Because you see, we did some blood work, and this woman consumed enough cocaine for about three people. It must have been in the process of about one hour or less. Whoever provided her with this poison, must have wanted her dead or been in a high of his or her own, to let her consume so much."

Ashleigh nodded as he guided her to the compartment in which they’d accommodated Cassidy. Ashleigh sighed at the sight of her friend, who looked worse now than when she’d been there the last time. She had respiratory help, a thick tube taped to her cheek and going in through her mouth; it guided the oxygen into her lungs from its connection to a machine, making her weakened lungs inhale and exhale. An IV line ran from her right arm, connected to a bag of feed for her system; another was connected to her other wrist, a solution to clean the filth in her blood. Ashleigh stepped up close to the stretcher, and looked her friend and patient over.

Cassidy was so thin, so pale and bluish. Ashleigh knew that she’d had a close call, and that she was still close. Cassidy’s chest rose and fell shallowly, letting her know that her lungs were weak, and that they weren’t responding on their own, that the machine was necessary. "Any brain damage?" She asked evenly.

Doctor Marco Estevez sighed. "None that we can see yet." He said softly. "But we can’t say, at least until she wakes. She hadn’t been breathing for about two minutes by the time the paramedics arrived; it took them another couple of minutes to bring her lungs around to at least draw in some oxygen. They assisted her all the way here."

"Who called in for the ambulance?" Ashleigh asked, touching Cassidy’s forehead softly. It was cold and clammy.

"A young woman sitting outside. I thought you’d know her, since she was the one who gave us all the information about you being her doctor." Marco Estevez replied calmly.

Ashleigh nodded, staring at Cassidy’s beautiful still face. "Well," She said slowly, trying to control her voice. "I guess there’s nothing for me to do right now." She looked at him with a grateful expression. "I’d like to see tonight’s chart, and I’ll take over her care from here." She extended her hand for a shake and he shook it. "Thanks, Marco, I really appreciate your help."

He smiled at her reassuringly. "She’ll come out of this one, Ashleigh. Don’t worry." He said.

Ashleigh nodded, and went to the nurse’s desk, where she was handed new green scrubs and her stethoscope from her locker. "Thank you," She said briskly.

After changing, she returned to the waiting room, where she found Gretchen, George, and Robie flanking Andrea’s side. Andrea was shaking her head, tears ran down her cheeks, her eyes were closed tightly. Robie caught sight of Ashleigh from the corner of her eye, and half turned to face her, demanding with her eyes. Ashleigh’s somber expression scared her, and she shook her head, whispering: "No."

Ashleigh smiled reassuringly. "No," She said firmly. "She’s alive, don’t worry. And I’m doing my best to keep it that way." She reached out and squeezed Robie’s shoulder gently. She continued to Andrea’s side, sitting beside her when George moved from the seat. Andrea looked at her with pleading eyes. Ashleigh wrapped her arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "It seems you keep finding yourself in situations with Cassidy that require a hospital." She whispered gently, smiling sympathetically.

Andrea nodded slowly, sobbing softly. "Ashleigh, she’s killing me!" She rocked herself slowly, her arms wrapped around herself. George kneeled in front of her, taking her hands and squeezing softly. Andrea gasped as more tears ran down her cheeks. "Why is she doing this to herself? Why?"

Ashleigh tried to hold back tears of frustration. "I don’t know." She said softly, holding Andrea tightly. "I really can’t explain Cassidy, Andrea. But I promise this; she will go to psychiatrist once she comes out of here. I’m not letting her out of this hospital unless she complies, and that will be that."

George stood up abruptly, her movements suddenly harsh and angry. "Ashleigh," She said softly. "May I speak with you?"

Ashleigh stood up, letting Robie take her place, and walked a few feet away with George. Gretchen followed, and George took her hand. George said: "The question we have to ask is who gave her this poison."

Ashleigh could see her strain for control by the way her jaw clenched and unclenched tightly. She nodded, and glanced at Gretchen. Gretchen was nodding her agreement, one arm twining around her lover's. Ashleigh sighed. "I have an idea as to who might have provided her with the drug." She said softly.

George's eyes hardened. "Who?" She demanded, clenching her fist.

Ashleigh looked down. "She has a friend, named Josua, he… ah," She hesitated. "He's a heavy coke addict, really into it. She's been trying to get him to stop for years. And you know she hasn't been exactly herself lately, she might not have refused if offered enough." She was pensive, and slipped her hands deep into the pockets of her pant scrubs.

George made eye contact with Gretchen, then looked back at Ashleigh. "Where does he live?" She demanded of her.

Ashleigh took a deep breath. "He lives on Monroe Street, a couple of blocks down from Cassidy's apartment. His building is Hastings Courts." She said, not wanting to know what George's intention was.

George nodded. "What apartment?" She asked.

"I don’t know." Ashleigh shrugged. "His name is Josua Maldonado."

George's lips pursed. "Perfect." She said. She reached into her jacket pocket for her pen, taking a paper from Ashleigh's pad. She wrote down a number. "This is my beeper number, Ashleigh. Beep me if anything. I'm taking your car." She handed her the paper, and walked to the exit, Gretchen with her.

Josua was nodding off slouched on his couch, his chin pressed against his chest; a sliver of saliva slithered out of his parted mouth onto the front of his shirt, his feet rested on his coffee table. He was startled when a knock sounded at his door, jumping and blinking rapidly in his shock. He stood up unsteadily, and stumbled to the door. He yanked open the door, and barely saw who stood there before he felt the sharp painful blast of a fist in the middle of his face. He flew backwards, arms and limbs flailing, landing on his ass.

Strong steps followed him, and he cried out, covering his bloody face. "No!"

"You bastard!" A woman with a strong Australian accent sputtered, and he felt a sharp kick to his stomach.

"Ugh!" He groaned, trying to protect himself with his arms. "What the fuck! You broke my nose!" He moaned, feeling the blood gush from his nose.

"You fucking bastard! I'll kill you!" The same voice roared. A hand grasped his shirt and pulled him up with surprising strength. Through the haze of pain, he could see his attacker. She was staring down at him with angry blue eyes.

Gretchen, who hadn't had time to stop her lover, grasped her jacket sleeve and pleaded with her to stop. George was out of control in her anger, and she'd kill Josua if Gretchen weren't there. "George, please." She said softly, and watched as George paused, glaring at Josua.

And then suddenly, she dropped him heavily, kicking him hard in the stomach. Josua groaned, and vomited all over the floor. George grimaced at the stench; Gretchen gagged and turned away. Despite the rancid odor, George kneeled beside him, staring at his bloody face impassively. Evenly, in a deadly calm voice, she said: "You so much as ever, and hear me again, ever go near Cassidy Monsignor with your garbage, I will break much more than your nose."

Josua shivered with fear, and vomited all over again. George jumped back, out of the flow's way, and glared at him for another minute. Then she turned away and guided Gretchen out of the apartment.

When they returned to the hospital, they found Jeffrey there with Andrea. With a small groan, George walked inside with Gretchen. Robie stood close by Andrea and Jeffrey, seriously glaring at Jeffrey's back. Jeffrey pointedly ignored her, and was having a quiet discussion with Andrea. She wouldn't look at him, and seemed extremely angry, though she was trying hard to control it.

Robie moved to George and Gretchen's side as they walked in, muttering under her breath. She took in the spatters of blood on George's jacket and skin, and then calmly studied George's impassive face. "What did you do?" She asked softly.

George shook her head in a don't-ask-any-questions way. "Nothing." She replied shortly, then glanced in Andrea's direction. "What's up?" She asked.

Robie turned to glare at Jeffrey, who glanced up at her and returned the glare. "This guy is one true bastard!" She whispered vehemently. "He calls Andrea at her cellular, wants to know where she is. When she tells him where and why she's here, he asks her to come home. But of course Andrea said no, and how dare he expect her to leave Cassidy, who needs her so much.

"So he shows up here, and fumes when he finds my arms around her, ranting about how she's turning into 'one of those women.' And then he goes and says that Cassidy probably has AIDS and all this crap." She crossed her arms and tapped her foot in a fast pace, shaking her head. "Andrea practically told him to fuck off when he said that, and that’s when he just shut up and started talking to her really quiet." She smiled slightly; very amused at the insults Andrea threw his way.

Gretchen chuckled, and George smiled despite her anger. "Any news on Cassidy?" She asked.

Robie shook her head, her smile faded. "Ashleigh said she is in a coma." She said softly; Gretchen and George murmured and gasped their fear. "They're taking her to a room in ICU in about an hour or so."

Gretchen pursed her lips thoughtfully. "She hasn't responded to anything?" She asked.

Robie shook her head. "Nothing, still the same." She said softly, her voice betraying her worry.

"Andy," Jeffrey was saying softly, trying not to explode on her. "Come home with me, baby. You're so tired." He was trying to cajole her. She would have none of it, and insisted on not looking at him. He knew he'd made a mistake the moment he yelled those bitter words against Cassidy. As much as he suspected of her sexual involvement with Cassidy, he knew he shouldn’t have said a word; he didn’t want to loose her. Now she didn’t want him to even touch her. He sat beside her, knees pressed against hers; hands clasped in front of him, trying to soft-talk her.

She stared blankly away from him, occasionally glancing at Robie, Gretchen and George. Andrea thought that Cassidy didn’t appreciate her friends. She thought if she was so depressed, so tempted to go into the dark world of drugs, why didn’t she talk about it? But it was no time for recriminations, Cassidy might die, and she wouldn’t know what to do if she did. She trembled violently, and looked down at her hands resting helplessly on her lap; tears sprang to her eyes.

"Ah, Andy," Jeffrey whispered, and made a move to hold her.

Andrea pushed him away. "Get away from me!" She hissed, not able to control her contempt against Jeffrey. "I don’t need you here, really." She whispered, trying to be nicer this time. "Just go home."

Jeffrey shook his head, and glanced at the three women standing close. He wouldn’t leave her around these women at any time. "No, I can't leave you here, baby."

Andrea decided to ignore him, then. She stood up resolutely and went to Robie and the others. Ashleigh came in a few minutes later, and Andrea went to her. Ashleigh smiled down at her, touching her cheek comfortingly. "She's in the Intensive Care room now." She said to them, noticing Jeffrey sitting calmly by the chairs, and her expression hardened visibly. He leered at her, and waved slightly, knowing her dislike towards him. She looked at Andrea, and said: "You should go home and rest now. You've had a hard night." She looked at the others. "The same goes for you too."

Andrea shook her head, but before she could audibly protest, George said: "She's right, Andrea. You look extremely tired."

"Thank you." Andrea said, and yawned. "You're right." She looked at Ashleigh. "I'll be here first thing in the morning. Call me if anything comes up, please."

Ashleigh nodded. "Visiting hours from nine to eight." She informed her, and smiled reassuringly. "But maybe I can arrange something."

Andrea nodded and smiled warily in return and said goodnight to everyone. She then glanced fleetingly at Jeffrey and said: "I have my own car, Jeffrey. I don’t need you to take me home. Goodnight." And she walked out, Jeffrey close at her heels, trying to cajole her into changing her mind.

Ashleigh, George, Gretchen and Robie were very amused at Andrea's sudden change in attitude towards Jeffrey. It seemed she'd seen what he was really all about, and could barely stand his company now.

Cassidy remained the same, unresponsive. Her lungs were still weak, would not operate on their own. Tests showed that the excessive consumption of the drug impeded the air sacks from expanding and contracting like normal air sacks do; sort of like a severe asthma attack. They knew there was no brain damage, at least none of it that they could see; they couldn't for the life of them figure out why she was still unconscious. But Ashleigh was not about to give up.

The first day she brought Andrea in to see her, she'd stood next to her, gazing at Cassidy's still figure. Andrea's hands shook, and her lips did too, tears filled her eyes. She bent down to gaze at her face, smoothing Cassidy's hair back from her forehead. She kissed Cassidy's forehead softly as Ashleigh watched, kissing her way gently across. "Cassidy," She whispered softly against her ear, her hand trailing up along her smooth arms. "Wake up, please."

But Cassidy didn’t respond, remaining as she was, not even her eyelids flickered. The respiratory machine was providing the only sign of life in the room. Pale, drawn, Andrea struggled against tears. She turned to Ashleigh and grasped her arms. "What if she dies?" Ashleigh shook her head and began to speak, but Andrea went on. "What am I going to do then? What! I love her, Ashleigh!" And she broke into sobs, pressing her face onto her shoulder.

Ashleigh sighed, and wrapped her arms around Andrea. "Shhh." She whispered. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I told you I'd do my best, Andy."

Andrea nodded slowly, pulling away. "You are doing your best, Ashleigh. But she's the same, she won't wake up."

Ashleigh looked away from Andrea's eyes. "She's in a coma, but I haven't given up hope, and neither should you."

Chided, Andrea turned around to look at Cassidy again. Bending close again, she kissed her forehead tenderly and continued to murmur sweet things close to her ear, trying to give her a reason to wake.

George and Gretchen hesitated at the door of Cassidy's hospital room, but then Ashleigh glanced up from her clipboard and gestured them in. "How is she?" George asked quietly, standing by the bed and touching Cassidy's hair with a hand. Ashleigh smiled slightly, glancing down at her clipboard again.

"Well, the cells in her lungs are regenerating at a very good pace, so the tissues in her lungs are strengthening." She grinned with hope. "Soon, she won't need respiratory aid at all."

Gretchen and George smiled at each other, and then at Ashleigh. Ashleigh's smile faded as she continued: "She's still in a coma, though. They found a little something else in her system. Extreme levels of alcohol in her blood also. The drug completely clashed with the alcohol, and her system obviously could not take it, her lungs least of all. But we've done a cleansing of her system, which is why she has the other IV on the other arm. Now we can give her some medicine."

Gretchen and George both frowned; they'd only heard the part about the coma, nothing else mattered. When Robie told them, they had decided not to believe her, thinking she was too upset. But hearing it from Ashleigh was a whole different thing. "Coma?" Gretchen repeated.

Ashleigh nodded, but smiled at them. "She'll be okay, she only needs time."

"Wait until Andrea hears that she'll get better." Gretchen beamed, not wanting to think of the bad things about Cassidy's situation; she turned to kiss George softly on the lips. "I have to go back to the office for a couple of hours, honey. Will you be here later on?" She asked.

George nodded. When Gretchen left, George to one long look at Cassidy's seemingly sleeping features and then another long look at Ashleigh, who looked like she hadn't slept well in days. "You haven't rested in four days since Cassidy was brought in, Ash. You look like shit." She said.

Ashleigh mock glared at George, who looked suitably sheepish. She laughed suddenly, saying: "Thanks for the opinion. It's just that I don’t want to leave Cassidy's side until I know she's out of the roughhouse. I catch a few winks in the doctor's lounge."

George glanced at Cassidy. "Have you even washed your teeth?" She asked. "Jesus, I don’t even want to stand near you, you'd probably kill me!"

Ashleigh poked the pen in her direction. "Keep trying me, George," She said mock-sternly. "I can have you barred from this hospital this second, and your lawyer girlfriend won't help you." She walked over to Cassidy, placing the stethoscope into her ears, reaching with the other end beneath the covers.

George lifted her hands up in a peace gesture, laughing. "Okay, okay. Sorry doc." She said, suppressing laughter. She watched seriously as Ashleigh listened to Cassidy's heartbeat and lungs with her stethoscope, placing it in different locations, nodding with satisfaction. "What?" George asked.

Ashleigh reached into her scrub pants pockets, pulling out a penlight. "Her heart sounds good, and so do her lungs." She explained. Peeling back her eyelid, she directed the little beam of light at each pupil. Both dilated perfectly. "Her eyes respond." She checked the taped tube inserted into her mouth, making sure that no rashes were developing. The tapes were changed every day to prevent settling for rashes. She stood up straight, and smiled at George reassuringly. She wrote into the clipboard, and said: "I have to go check on another patient, and then I'll be back." She placed the clipboard on the bedside table and walked out of the room with a last smile at George.