A/N: So here's my new story. I'd been considering the idea for a while but never got round to putting fingers to keys but finally I've done it. I really hope you like it. Please review if you want me to carry on because I'm not sure about it. This chapter's just setting the scene so it's a bit slow but I promise more Ronnie/Jack stuff soon. Also for anyone who's reading Tears of an Angel, the next chapter should be up soon.
All the chapter titles will be after songs about cancer, some of them are really good, you should listen.
This story is dedicated to anyone whose life has been affected by cancer, especially the people left behind.
Hopefully a tissue warning if I've done my job right
Thanks to the BBC for making EastEnders, I don't own it.
Enjoy.

"I'm sorry." The doctor said gently. But he wasn't really – that much she knew. His old wise eyes were saying everything his lips couldn't. He had seen hundreds of cases like this, hundreds of people too late to save, hundreds of people he had apologised to for something he hadn't really done. Why should she be any different?

He sighed, giving her a few moments to process the fatal blow of information he had given her. But she couldn't. It still didn't feel real. She still felt as if she was going to open her eyes and this would all vanish like a bad dream. She would wake up, wrapped in Jack's embrace. The heat radiating off of him like her safety blanket. Their two bodies lying there pressed against each other, safe forever.

She couldn't go though, not now. Not when things were finally, for the first time in her whole life, beginning to look as if it would be alright. Of course nothing was perfect, far from, but at least there was still some light in the blankness. Her whole life she had been living in a pitch black room, desperately trying to find the lights and now, at last Jack had appeared and made everything alright for the first time. They had so much they were going to do together. So much life left to live.

"How long?" She managed to ask, trying to sound strong but her voice just came out as a shaky whimper. Her whole body trembled with fear.

The doctor looked down, almost afraid to meet her terrified gaze, "Five months... Obviously we can't be sure but judging by the approximate size and weight on your scan results and your blood tests we can get a pretty accurate picture and..."

The doctor began babbling in some medical language about blood cell counts and mass diameters but she wasn't listening anymore. It was just a mask the doctor hid behind so he didn't have to admit to her that she was dying and there was nothing they could do about it.

Why now? There was so many times in the past when she had wished, even begged, for death. That second when her father came into her room when she was so young, the second just before he reached out to caress her bare skin. When he had taken her little baby Amy from her she would lie in bed at night for years after and scream silently for the girl. When her father had told her that her little girl had died years before and she would never get to see her beautiful angelic face again. All those times she had honestly believed she had lost Jack forever and her only reason for living was gone again. When she had sat in the road holding the body of her dying daughter, wishing she could go with her. When her second little baby had died, her chance to finally become a mother again but it had died before she had even got to see it. All those times when she sat alone drinking glass after glass of stupidly strong alcohol, hoping to numb it all out or even better; just not wake up in the morning. Why now when things were finally getting better did it all have to crumble at her feet again?

The pain in her stomach had first started a month after she had moved back in with Jack but everything was so good she never believed it could fall so fast. She had brushed it off and carried on but the pain didn't go away. It got worse. It started in her back as well. Sometimes it would wake her up in the night and she would creep downstairs and pace back and forwards trying to get it to go away.

It was Jack who had first pointed out how thin she was getting when they were lying in bed one night. He had run his soft hand gently down the length of her naked back and kissed her collar bone. He asked her if she hadn't been eating but she just laughed trying to tell him that losing weight was never a bad thing and when they were old and fat she would look back on this and wonder what she was complaining about.

She had known there was something wrong but she had done what she always did with problems; brushed them under the carpet like if she pretended they weren't there then they might just disappear. Then again they didn't call it the silent killer for fun. The symptoms were so vague and easy to pass off as something else that it wasn't really her fault.

Eventually Jack had caught her on one of her midnight wanderings and forced her to go to the doctors. They had taken her blood and she had promised Jack it was all okay, just a virus and she was fine. Then the call came through. They needed her to go back for a scan. It was an ultrasound. She had kept her eyes tightly closed the whole way through but even that couldn't stop the flashbacks. The smell of disinfectant and the feel of the ice cold gel against her skin all reminded her too much of the two children she would never see again. Now a few weeks later she sat there before the old doctor being told she was going to die.

She had come to terms with it a long time ago, dying. There was one point when it was all she had thought about. She had got to a point when she wasn't scared, what was there to be scared of? But now it sat there, deep in her chest, the pang of desperate, terrible fear. Like a freezing cold hold punched right the way through the middle.

In her heart she knew the hardest part of this wouldn't be dying. It would be to lie in Jack's arms every night and wonder if this would be the last time she would kiss his lips. The hardest part would be leaving him.

"You've got two options..." The doctor began.

"Can I...? Can I make a phone call first...?" She was surprised how calm she managed to sound. The doctor nodded kindly and offered her the phone lying on the desk. She took it and punched in the number.

It rung for a few beats before he answered.

"Jack..." Her voice wavered.

"Can this wait babes? I'm down the club and we've just had a delivery and..."

"No Jack," Her voice cracked "I need you now."

Jack didn't ask any more questions. He knew that tone of voice and that was the tone of voice you didn't argue with.

"Where are you?"

"Walford General Hospital, fourth floor, room 183"

"I'll be there in twenty, I love you Ronnie."

She didn't reply for fear that if she opened her mouth again she might just break.

If you like it and want me to carry on pretty pretty please review.