A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! I'm glad people were intrigued.

I have AIDS.

Isabella shook out of her reverie when she heard a series of horns go off behind her. She looked in her rearview mirror and saw a huge line forming behind her car, then back at the green light that had, undoubtedly, changed a couple of minutes ago.

It had started snowing again, harder than before. Bella could barely see out the front window as she tore down the sloshy streets.

I have AIDS.

A shiver ran down her spine as she turned into the driveway of her friend's place. She'd left Punk at the bar in a hurry, barely allowing him any explanation. It wasn't fair to him, she knew that, but it was just... too intense. She shouldn't have to put up with it anymore – she wasn't his wife.

Georgie opened the door, smiling. "Hi! Danny's asleep – "

"Punk has AIDS." Isabella stepped past her and headed into the living room, leaving Georgie in the foyer with her mouth open.

She heard the door slam, but Bella was already laid out on the couch, face covered by her hands.

"What did you just say?"

"Phil has AIDS." She sighed and sat up. "AIDS, Georgie."

"Oh, my God. How's he handling it?"

She shrugged, sniffling. "I don't know. I left him in such a hurry – "

"Wait. Did he tell you and you just – "

"I freaked out." She ran her hand back over her hair. "So I left."

Georgie sat down beside her, her mouth covered. "That was kind of rude, Bella."

"I know! All right? I know." She closed her eyes, barely feeling the tears leak out. "I was just... so frightened."

"Does he know how he got it?"

Bella shook her head, lip quivering. "He doesn't know. Probably from his fucking diva girlfriends!"

"He didn't have any blood transfusions?"

"You don't get it that way anymore, but no." She wiped her nose with her wrist. "Do you have a tissue?"

Georgie reached behind them and snagged the Kleenex from the table, frowning as Bella took three or four. "Did he sleep with those girls?"

"He had to have!"

"Isn't he straightedge?"

Bella looked up. "Huh? Oh. I don't know. It doesn't matter."

"Does he know how long he's had it?"

Bella sighed shakily, scrubbing the tears away. "No. Well, we've been divorced for a few months now... we were together for three years before then. So at least three years."

"Wow. That's scary."

"I know." Bella started tearing the tissue apart, her mouth shaking while her eyes reddened. "Georgie. I could have it."

Georgie shook her head. "No. You can't."

"There aren't any symptoms. Well, there are when you first get it, but it's like getting the flu." She blew her nose. "I could have it. I probably do have it."

"No. Isabella, you listen to me." She turned her friend when she wouldn't look at her. "You do not have it. You understand me?"

"Georgie," Bella whispered. Her eyes were practically closed. "Danny could have it."

"No."

"If Punk had it when we had him... " Bella looked up the stairs, where her son was currently napping in one of the rooms. "It's possible."

"I really think you need to talk to him."

"I can't."

"Why, Bella?"

She shook her head. "I was so rude. So cruel. I just tore out of that bar so fast. He'll never forgive me for that."

"Yeah, well, if he gave your son AIDS because he was sleeping with girls with two first names, he should be the one worrying about forgiveness."

Bella sighed quietly. "Should I? Go talk to him, I mean."

"Yes. But leave Danny here."

"Georgie, it's not contagious like that – "

"That's why you ran out of there like he had the plague, right?"

Bella looked at her hands.

"Can never be too careful." Georgie patted her shoulder. "Go talk to him, sweetie. You need to straighten this shit out."

Punk looked surprised when he opened his door. Tired, but surprised. "Bell?"

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. She couldn't bear to look at him. "For earlier. But we need to talk."

"Yeah. Sure." He held the door open wider. "Come on in."

Bella stepped into the house they once called theirs, frowning at the pictures of them still up on the walls.

"Do you want to hang up your coat?"

She flinched away when he touched her collar, but immediately regretted it when she saw the sad sheen in his eyes. "I'm sorry." She took it off and hung it up herself. "I didn't mean – "

"It's fine."

"Punk – "

"Do you have Danny with you?" he asked hopefully.

Bella frowned, but shook her head. "No. He's still at Georgie's."

The last shred of happiness fell from his face and he nodded. "I guess it's for the best."

"Punk." Bell crossed her arms vulnerably. "We need to talk about your situation."

He smiled softly. "Situation. It sounds so nice when you say it like that."

"I'm sorry. Was that insensitive of me?"

"No." He held his hand out to the couch. "Sit down. Are you thirsty?"

"No."

"Are you just lying because you don't want to touch anything I've touched?"

Bella shook her head. "No. I'm just scared. We need to talk about this."

"Okay." He fell onto the couch, crossing his legs. "Go at it."

Bella sighed. "How long have you had it?"

Punk shrugged. "The doctors don't have an exact date, but the time frame is from... five to six years ago. Give or take a year."

Bella's mouth dropped. "That long?"

Punk nodded. "It doesn't look good, Bell."

"Don't say that."

"I don't have to. My doctors say it enough."

Bella frowned. "I'm sorry, Punk."

"I like that you still call me Punk." He pushed his hair back. "It reminds me of when things used to be normal."

Bella hesitated, but she ended up leaning over, curling her shaking fingers around his hand. He looked at his thigh, then up at her face.

Her eyes were shaking. "Are you scared?"

He blinked for a while, but then he nodded. "Yeah."

Her lids dropped, and she let go of his hand to wipe at the fresh tears that were staining her cheeks. "Should I get tested?"

He looked away. "Yeah."

"Should Danny?"

She watched his Adam's apple bob, the way his eyes looked skyward. His bottom lip started shaking. "Yeah," he choked.

"Punk." Carefully, she pushed his hair back with her fingernails, frowning as she ran the length of her palm around the slope of his face. "Should I be scared?"

He lifted his eyes, that yellowish color, and the only thing Bella could see in them was herself. "Honestly?"

She nodded.

"Yes."

A/N: I felt bad for giving Punk AIDS, but I knew if I did another like... Jeff story, people would kill me for giving him AIDS, and I would kill myself because I write too many stories about him. Review!