Author's Note: This is kind of a mini-update. Since I have some time off this weekend, I will try to write a lengthier update and post it later in the week.

Andi shifted in her sleep, and Mark opened his eyes. “You okay?” he whispered. No response came. “Andi? Taste of Honey? Angel?” No response.

Mark frowned. “That was a stupid nickname I gave you,” he muttered. “Just happened to be listening to The Beatles at the time, after seeing that movie Almost Famous, and I figured I’d call you by a Beatles song. You didn’t give a damn what I called you, did you?”

No response.



“You remember the rehab? All that fun stuff? All those times I stayed up with you, when you were going through withdrawal? And even then… even then, I didn’t give up on you. You could have said you weren’t going to go through rehab. You could have left, then. You could have left years ago. So, why didn’t you?”

No response.

“Hey,” Mark said softly. “You’re beautiful when you sleep. But… you know… it’s getting kind of old. So… please… wake up.”

No response.


Mark gently shook Andi. Her eyes did not open.

“Oh, crap,” he whispered. He stumbled out of the bed and to his feet. “Oh, damn…” Running awkwardly to the door, he yelled, “Doc! Get over here, now! I don’t know if Taste of Honey is breathing!”