If I Die Young

Summary: Ceceila Yorke found out about her dead son two days after his death.

Ceceila Marie Yorke smiled giddily, pushing back her wild tangle of brown curls, so much like her son's. James was visiting her today. Her little JT. His visits were what made her believe she could get better. His smiling face, his hugs, his laughter. He was the one right thing in her life and she wanted to do him proud. She wasn't happy with herself. She'd had him at a young age and his father, Gregory hadn't helped her at all. She'd moved in with her mother so she'd have someone to watch JT while she went to work. Unfortunately, she happened to run into Brian Ryce and fell for him instantly. She supposed she'd had a thing for the bad boys or the losers. Brian had done drugs, selling them on the side and he'd gotten her hooked on them.

She'd been off and on drugs for years. Eventually, she checked herself into a hospital that dealt with these issues, wanting to find out why she'd done all that she'd did. She'd been there ever since. But it was a good thing. At least she was in one place and was safe. At least her mother and her son knew where she was at and how to contact her.

Just then, Dr. Abigail Johnson stepped inside, a strained look on her face. This was the worst part of her job. Having to deliver such news. But she'd offered to help Ellen out that way. The older woman had too much to worry about to tell her daughter herself. "How are you feeling Ceceila?" She asked softly, stepping close to the woman and taking a seat in the desk chair across from the bed on which the other woman sat.

The brunette beamed at her doctor. "I'm just fine." She replied, hand running over the cover of the scrapbook she'd made for JT. "I was just finishing this up for when my son gets here."

At that the blonde swallows hard, knowing that now is the time that she'll have to break the news to her patient. "Ceceila, I have to tell you something."

"What about?" Ceceila, busy looking at various photos to put in the book on her bed.

"There was...an accident two days ago involving JT. It was really bad. Your mother just called to tell us about it." Dr. Johnson said, running a hand through her ponytail.

"Well, he's okay now, isn't he? He'll still be visiting, right?" Her voice trembled and yet, her blue eyes remained hopeful.

The doctor shook her head solemnly. "I'm so sorry, Ceceilia, but JT died." She answered. "Your mother was worrying about funeral arrangements and was in no shape to tell you herself, so I offered."

The brunette gave a harsh, broken laugh, hands shaking. "Well do I at least get to go to my baby's funeral?"

Abigail hesitated before speaking once more. "I'll have to call your mother and see when it's planned. If all goes well..."

Ceceilia cut her off, glaring. "If all goes well? My son is dead!" She screamed, throwing her scrapbook across the room, barely missing the other woman. When that doesn't work, she reached for the lamp on the desk, just as two of the hospital's guards come in to help Dr. Abigail administer a sedative. The last thought on her mind before she passed out was of her son's laughing, boyish face.

The End