-1Mac sighed heavily, walking into the unfamiliar hospital.

'I'm looking for the Intensive care unit…on the oncology ward,' the young receptionist looked up at him smiling.

'It's on the third floor. What part of America are you from?'

'New York,'

'It's a great place,' Mac smiled weakly, nodding his head before climbing the stairs. Opening the door, an air of sadness hit him, like this was the end, people who came here we're finished.

'Can I help you?'

'I'm looking for Peyton Driscoll,'

'Ah, you must be detective Mac Taylor. I was the one that called you,'

'How is she?' the nurse smiled, gently guiding Mac into a small room.

'Peyton has spoken often of you, when she lived in New York, before she came back here. She knew when she wrote you the letter that she was…terminally ill,' Mac stood up, turning his back to the nurse.

'she was fine…when I left her here she was fine,'

'She had cancer, second stage when she came here. She knew she was not going to last long. That's why she wrote the letter…I was with her when she wrote it. She didn't want you to know,'

'Why…why did you call me then? If she didn't want me to know…why call me?'

'Because she was told that she didn't have months left…she has…a week, two at most,' Mac leaned his head against the glass, standing up straight as the nurse put her hand on his shoulder.

'She asked for you,' Mac wiped his face with his hand, standing outside her room.

'She doesn't bite…but I need to warn you that…she's not the way you remember her…she's a lot thinner…paler,' Mac sighed, pushing the door open. He stopped, the door closing over slowly behind him. He couldn't see her face, Peyton lying with her back to the door. But he could see how thin she was through the white shirt, a shirt he instantly recognised as his own. He placed his hands gingerly on her feet, Peyton opening her eyes. She smiled weakly, outstretching her skeleton like hands to him.

Mac…you…came,' he nodded, taking his jacket off and covering her in it. She inhaled the scent off it, her eyes closing again.

'When the nurse called me…I…I thought that there had been an accident or something…I never thought…It never even crossed my mind that it could be something…something like this,'

'I…didn't…want you…to worry…about…me,'

'I worried about you every day anyway,' Peyton smiled, drawing Mac's hand up to her face.

'I…I have…days left,'

'I'm gonna be here for every one of them,'

'Your…going…to…watch…me…die,'

'I'm gonna hold your hand,'