Please don't go away.

Disclaimer: I don't own any character of ER.
Summary: "I can't stand the thought of being left behind again".
Author's notes: I was lacking sleep when writing this, so naturally it doesn't make any sense. Feedback appreciated though. ;)

It's so easy to smile.
You go to work in the morning and you greet you coworkers with a smile. Have a cup of coffee with someone on your break. Laugh at their stories. Leave pretending that you have someplace to go. It's not hard to pretend, it's something we've being doing since we were kids. Some more than others.
I have been smiling a lot lately. Anything to cover up this constant pain and fear I'm feeling inside. I know that people know, and that it's stupid of me to think that I can fool them all, but I still do it. Because if I'd allow myself to break down and cry in public, then it would be for real. If I'd truthfully answer the questions, I'd put it out there, and I can't do that. I'm not ready, and I don't think I ever will be.

I never imagined life to be like this. I always knew that bad stuff could happen to anyone – how could I not know? I'm a doctor. Even both of my parents are doctors. My best friends are doctors. There is just no way of getting out of it. But somehow I thought I was shielded from these bad things. That they would never happen to me. I guess it's a defense mechanism. You sense the threat, but you trick yourself into believing that it's always been like this. Except something has changed. Something that you can feel deep down inside you, a silent agreement between mother and child, forgotten, but written in our blood. And even though you try to convince yourself that it's never going to happen, you know that you're wrong. You know that you're losing this war. It doesn't matter that you won a few battles on the way, it's over now.

I can't stand the thought of being left behind again. It doesn't matter that a part of him will always be with me. It's not good enough. I'm being selfish, as I've always been, but the truth is that I can't live without him. I don't want him to die – for me. I can see the pain in every breathe he takes, the torture in his eyes that were once so filled with joy. I know that he's waiting for me to tell him that it's okay to go. But I can't. Because it's not okay. He's my only connection. To nothing. And to everything. I never knew you could love someone so much that parting rips your heart out. I didn't think I was ever going to experience these kind of feelings. I've always been a practical woman. I'd do what's right and find a logical solution to all of my problems. Now that I can't do that anymore, I'm lost.

Something as simple as walking up the stairs becomes a task too big for me to complete today. Every fiber of my body hurts, more and more the closer I get to room 302. I want to scream. Pull my hair and bruise my skin. This is not fair! I know that I'm at fault for people's deaths.. It's something I have to live with every day. But what about all the people I've saved?
I want to fall down on my knees and pray. I want to beg you God, not to take him away from me. From life. Like I've prayed so many goddam times before. I guess you got sick of listening, didn't you?

I shake all thoughts about God and open the door to room 302. I can't think of it has "his room", because it's not. It's just another room, where people have lived and died.
I see him lying there, his eyes closed. He's sleeping. I wonder when the last time I slept was. I can't remember. It doesn't matter. I sit down at the blue chair by his bed, where I've been sitting for so many hours I've lost count.
He must have sensed my presense, because he opens his eyes and looks at me. I take his hand, and he smiles sleepily at me. Lets me know that he's happy to have me there, in spite of everything that's happened.
"Wo ai ni" I whisper softly. "Wo ai ni".