Summary: April Carver is giving up. She's had a long hard battle with leukemia, and she's done fighting. Well, that's until Leo Hendrie quite literally crashes into her life. AU.

The doctor walks into her room, his eyes tired and sad. He doesn't have to say anything, April can tell what he's going to say by his body language. He looks down at his chart, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"April, I don't know how to tell you this," he says, eyes meeting hers. "You have two months."

She doesn't ask what she has two months for. She already knows the answer. The doctor's eyes fill with pity as he watches her. She flinches as she looks down to her hands that sit perfectly folded in her lap.

She was diagnosed late, and she knows that she was too far along for much help. She did chemo regardless, for her mother's sake if not for her own.

But April Carver had had enough.

The room is silent for a few moments. April keeps her eyes focused on her hands, and takes deep breaths. "Thank you," she finally says.

She feels a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

She squeezes her eyes shut so he can't see the tears forming in her eyes.

§

Her mother and Brenna check her out of the hospital. Her mother looks like she's constantly on the brink if tears and Brenna looks hollow and empty. She hates that they feel this way, hates that she is causing them so much pain.

She shuts herself in her room and takes the time to look around and reflect on what she has been through.

She was diagnosed a year ago, went to chemo as soon as possible, lost all of her hair, and had felt like paper in the wind.

How had she gone from April Carver, reporter, to April Carver, cancer patient? Was she even April anymore? She sure didn't feel like the girl she was a year ago.

She has two months.

She calls Beth, the only friend in the world who had stayed with her.

"Let's go out," April says. "I've got to live, Beth. I can't just sit in this house and walk on eggshells around Mom and Brenna. Let me live."

Beth agrees and shows up in record time.

§

April has only ever seen Beth cry a total of three times.

The first time had been over not getting her dream job. Beth was a spunky outgoing girl, who wanted nothing more than to be an editor. She was shot down by every single company, but she kept going. An opportunity opened at her favorite company, but Beth was unable to get the job because she didn't fit their "image". She cried for at least an hour.

The second time had been after a very bad break up. She had dated the guy for a year, and found him cheating on her. Of course to add insult to injury, the deed had been done in Beth's own apartment with her neighbor. She cried for three hours, and ate an entire tub of ice cream.

The third time was when April told her that she had cancer. She didn't know when the girl had stopped crying, or if she ever would. Beth hugged her tighter than she ever had and cried into her shoulder.

So when Beth shows up, a tear rolling down her cheek, April hates herself a little more. She thinks they'd all be better off if she were already gone.

§

Beth takes her to the crappiest night club she's ever seen.

She loves it.

Crappy music and cheap alcohol are exactly what she needs.

For once she doesn't care about her lack of hair, or the circles under her eyes. She doesn't care about her sickly appearance or too large clothes. Beth has taken care of this, with a bobbed brown wig, some amazing makeup skills, and a dress that flatters her.

Guys approach the pair instantly, flirting and making suggestive comments.

April throws her head back and laughs as Beth ignores them and pulls her the dance floor.

She hasn't danced in months, so she gives it all. She doesn't care that she'll be tired, doesn't care about any type of consequence. Her eyes close and she is lost in the music, transported to a world much better than the one she is in.

Her eyes fly open as she falls, but strong arms catch her.

"Shit," someone mumbles, helping her stand.

Her eyes meet vibrant blue pools, swirls of gray surrounding pupils. She's so absorbed in his eyes that she doesn't hear what he is saying.

"-and I spilled my drink on you, oh god.-"

Her eyes travel down to his arms, that are still gripping her shoulders. She thinks about the feather light touch, and why his hands are still on her.

He keeps talking and she watches his mouth move, not really caring what he is saying.

"-I could pay for a new dress? Or maybe I could buy you a drink? Is that forward-"

She laughs and smiles at him, her eyes meeting his.

"You can buy me a drink," she decides.

§

Leo Hendrie is the son of a politician. April already knows this, as she was a reporter that followed that election quite closely. She doesn't tell him this however, because she simply likes watching his mannerisms. She likes the way his brow furrows, how his jaw tightens, how his eyes are always on her.

They talk at the bar for hours. April can see Beth in the corner of her eye, her best friend smiling hugely in her direction. She refrains from rolling her eyes.

Leo is easy to talk to. So easy that April almost tells him about the nurse in the hospital that used to push her in hallway wheelchair races. But she stops, realizing that this would lead to questions that she doesn't want to answer.

By the end of the night they have exchanged numbers and he has kissed her cheek in goodbye.

She wonders how she had gone so long without the ever present thought of two months to live.

Leo Hendrie has her hooked already.

§

After that night, April breathes a little easier. Leo texts her constantly and she wonders why he has so much free time. Brenna and her mother seem to have put aside their own feelings for April's sake. They try to do all they can to see that April feels alive.

What no one knows is that this is the most alive that she has felt since she has been diagnosed. She's been an empty shell, walking around for months, pretending that she's okay with the hand life has dealt her.

April, the fighter. That's what the nurses called her.

But no one knows how long ago she gave up. No one knows that she can't live with the pain she causes, can't bear to be here anymore.

But now she smiles, and thanks god she's alive.

She can't believe she lives in a world where she got to meet Leo Hendrie.

She can't believe she lives in this world at all.

§

Leo sets a fire in her that she cannot extinguish.

He's been hinting at something more than friendship for a month. April can't give, because she can't do that to him.

She can't be the girl he dated who has cancer, the girlfriend who died of cancer.

So during one of their late night phone calls April doesn't expect what she hears from him.

"April, I know I've only known you for a month. But you're it. I'm dying and I finally found the right one. Just give me this month."

April is quiet for a very long time. Tears slip down her cheeks.

"You're an idiot," she says, wiping her tears.

They talk all night until she drifts off.

§

He has a brain tumor, cancerous.

He has one month.

She cries for them both.

She finally had a reason to fight again, and now it was gone.

He hugs her tightly and wipes her tears.

He kisses her gently, rests his forehead against hers.

"Give me this month," he begs.

She does.

§

They only get 26 days.

Those days are filled with laughter and kisses and pure love.

People who only have weeks tend to love faster, they say.

And god was it true.

He goes first, on the 29th of the month.

She finds him and it's too late and she cries while Beth holds her.

She drifts off, and she never floats back.