A/N: Part 3 is here! Took me a little bit, and its kind of long, but I'm actually happy with this chapter. Oh and I forgot to mention this takes place a year or so after Pathfinder, so lets pretend Pathfinder didnt end with the whole egg problem. Agh spoilers sorry to those who havent read it yet. But if you havent, you really should. Anyway, Tod will be in this story, and I think she's somewhere around 13 for the purposes of this story.

Yeah, so this is basically day one for Marcia's treatment.

Disclaimer: I dont own, obviously. Septimus Heap and Co belong to Angie Sage.

Marcia was pacing around their bedroom, picking things up and putting them back, and messing with her hair and her whistle. Milo knew she was trying to delay going to her appointment. "Are you ready to go?" He asked her from his spot in the doorway. She stopped abruptly and turned to face him, looking at him as if he had sprouted another head.

"What?"

"Are you ready to go to your appointment?" he asked again.

She shook away the thoughts that he had interrupted with a small shake of her head. Then she looked around the room. There was nothing she could do to stay just a tiny bit longer. "As I'll ever be," she told him sadly. She picked up her bag, a medium-sized black one, and walked past him and out of the room. Milo followed her down the stairs. She still wouldn't talk to him about how she was feeling. All she had told him was that she was going to try the chemotherapy. She stopped him in the Hub. "Um…Do you mind if I go by myself?"

He sighed. She wasn't even going to let him go with her. "Marcia, I don't think—"

"Just this first one. Please? I'll go to Septimus's rooms after, and you can meet us for dinner," she tried hopefully. She wanted one last act of independence before the treatments, one act without the effects of the chemo clouding her mind. Maybe she'd be able to sort her thoughts too. Milo had hardly left her side since she had told him, and really, it was starting to irritate her. She was dying, yes, but at the moment she could still do things for herself. He could hover later; she didn't want or need that right now.

Milo sighed again. "Alright. But just this one, okay?" He didn't want her going through this alone.

She smiled a little. "Okay."

He leaned closer and kissed her cheek. "See you at dinner, Marcia."

She nodded her head and then turned to go through Way VII. He watched her until the swirly white mist enveloped her completely, and then turned around to go back upstairs. He already knew he'd be counting down the remaining hours until dinner.

"Did Milo not come with you?" Dandra asked as Marcia followed her into the infusion room.

"No, I asked him not to," Marcia told her. She set her bag down next to the hospital bed and sat down.

Dandra shook her head disappointingly as she began setting up the IV. "You really should bring someone with you to your treatments, Marcia. Especially the first few." Marcia didn't know how she was going to react to the chemotherapy; she could be fatigued beyond belief and not able to get home on her own. It was very important that she bring someone with her. But, knowing Marcia, if Marcia didn't want anyone with her then no one was going to come with her.

Marcia was already tired of people telling her what she could and could not do, but she tried very hard not to snap at Dandra. "Milo will come next time," she said firmly. Dandra only sighed and motioned for Marcia to hold out her hand. She slid the tip of the IV catheter effortlessly into Marcia's most prominent vein in the back of her hand, and then held it in place as she taped over it and hooked on the IV. Marcia winced.

"We'll begin with a saline solution and then move on to the pre-meds before we start the chemotherapy, and then end it with another round of the saline solution, alright?"

Marcia focused on a spot on the wall. She chose not to look at Dandra, even though Dandra was trying to catch her eye. "Let's just get it over with," she muttered.

Dandra patted her friend's hand. "I'll be back in a bit to change the IV," she informed her. She wished she could stay and offer her friend some company, but Marcia obviously didn't want any at the moment and besides, she had other patients to attend to.

After Dandra left, Marcia kicked off her shoes and reclined back against the pillows. Then she shut her eyes, pretending she was anywhere but there.

Unfortunately, Marcia could not pretend she was somewhere else after the IV had been switched to the chemotherapy drugs. She couldn't focus on one of the books she had brought either. She decided instead to use the remaining time of her treatment to sort her thoughts. First and foremost: she didn't want to die. She really, really did not want to leave Septimus and Milo behind. There was always the option of becoming a ghost, but if she died because of the cancer…A ghost remained as they were on their last day living. If she died, she'd be weak and unable to do much of anything. So, if she did become a ghost, would she even be able to Appear to anyone? No, it wasn't doing any good to think along those lines. She wasn't supposed to get upset during treatment. The best option she had was to fight the cancer with all she had, and never pass up a moment she could spend with Milo and Septimus. Which meant she had to bring Milo and/or Septimus with her to all of her next appointments, and she had to let them know how she was feeling. She didn't like that aspect too much; she had never been one to really talk about her emotions. Normally she kept to herself. She couldn't do that now, she realized. She had a husband now, and Septimus—well, he was like her son. They were a family. And cancer didn't just affect one person, it affected the group.

"Congratulations, Marcia. You've finished your first session of chemotherapy," Dandra said cheerfully, handing Marcia a glass of water.

Marcia coughed a little as she sat up, and gratefully took the water from Dandra. "The cure is definitely worse than the disease," she grumbled, coughing more as she set the water down. Her head was spinning, and she was finding it hard to focus on any one thing for too long.

Dandra helped her off the bed even though she didn't need it and Marcia slipped on her shoes. "Are you going to be alright getting home?" Dandra asked worriedly as her friend swayed a little on her feet.

Marcia steadied herself. "Yes, I'm going upstairs to Septimus's rooms. Milo is joining us for dinner. Although I don't think I'm going to be able to eat."

"That's to be expected unfortunately," Dandra said sadly. "Do you want help getting there?" Dandra worried about the stairs. Chemotherapy normally made people nauseous and, well, the spiral stairs spun so fast, even on a lower setting. Maybe it wouldn't be a problem for one or two floors, but Marcia would be going up fifteen.

Marcia waved her away. "No, no. I've got it. I think Septimus was going to meet me down here when this was over anyway," she informed Dandra, picking up her bag. "When's my next appointment?"

"Same time next week," Dandra reminded her, following Marcia out. She didn't follow her all the way to the lobby though, and as Marcia continued on her way Dandra could have sworn she heard Marcia mutter, "I'm going to really hate Thursdays."

Marcia found Septimus in the lobby, waiting in one of the waiting chairs. It looked as if he had been waiting there a long time; his eyes were closed and there was an open book in his lap. She put her hands on her hips. "Septimus," she called loudly, waking him. He sat up immediately and the book fell to the floor. "How long have you been waiting for me?"

The tips of his ears turned red. "I didn't want to be late," he murmured apologetically, standing up and taking her bag from her.

"Thank you."

Septimus frowned when Marcia swayed a bit, so he held out his arm to her without saying a word. She didn't hesitate, and slipped her arm through his. Septimus kept her steady the entire way to his rooms. The stairs, luckily, weren't a problem. At least not yet, Marcia thought. She knew the after-effects of the treatment were only going to get worse.

They made it the twenty first floor without any problems, and the purple door recognized them both and swung open, eager to please. It shut behind them when they entered the apartment. Septimus led Marcia over to his sofa. "Why don't you lie down," he told her, helping her onto the cushions. She didn't need his help, not yet, but she didn't say anything. He was only trying to make her comfortable.

"That's probably a good idea," she agreed. "Where's Tod?"

Septimus handed Marcia the large, fluffy purple blanket that had been folded up near the sofa. "She's sending a letter to her dad. I figure that she'd be back in time for dinner."

Marcia wrapped the blanket around her and snuggled deeper into the couch. "Milo will be joining us as well," she informed Septimus.

"Good thing I anticipated his arrival then." Septimus grinned. "I cooked this time," he said proudly.

"I'm not a big fan of syrup Septimus, you'll have to remake it," she teased.

"Hey, that was just that one time!" He protested.

She laughed, and soon he was laughing too.

Septimus was setting the table with Tod when Milo arrived. The door, having been Marcia's door for a very long time and knowing she was already in the apartment, had swung open for him. "Good evening, Septimus, Tod," Milo greeted them.

Tod opened her mouth, ready to tell Milo one of her dad's newest fishing stories she had received in the mail, but Septimus spoke before she could. "Later, Tod," he told her quietly, knowing what she wanted to say, and knowing that right now all Milo wanted to do was see how Marcia's treatment had gone. "Marcia's on the sofa. Tell her dinner's ready, will you?"

Milo nodded. "Thank you, Septimus." He gave Tod a smile before leaving the kitchen and entering the sitting room.

He approached the sofa quietly, not wanting to wake her if she was indeed asleep. She was. He wanted to ask her how her treatment had gone, and how she was feeling, anything to ease his worries and his nerves, but he didn't know how to begin. He shook her shoulder gently as he knelt down beside the sofa, and she blinked open her eyes.

She spoke after a moment of silence. "I hate Thursdays," she told him bluntly. He didn't really know how to respond to that, so he just chuckled and reached out to stroke her hair away from her face.

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked.

"I wasn't asleep." She frowned as she sat up and looked around. Septimus was no longer in the room. Maybe she had fallen asleep. He raised an eyebrow at her statement, but she ignored it. "When did you get here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Not even five minutes ago. How was it?"

She sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around her. "You're coming with me next time."

He grimaced. "Was it that bad?"

"No. I was bored."

He knew she was lying, but he appreciated the fact that she was trying to lighten up the mood. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss her forehead. "Dinner's ready," he told her, relaying Septimus's message.

"I'm not hungry," she murmured.

"Are you going to at least join us?" he asked.

She sighed and unwrapped herself from the blanket as she sat up. "Yeah." She held out her hands to Milo, and he took them, intending to pull her up and off the sofa, but she suddenly began to cough and it wasn't one of the smaller coughing fits either.

In the kitchen, both Tod and Septimus could hear her coughing. It was very scary for Tod (and Septimus, although he didn't show it), particularly because the last time she had heard anyone cough like that was her mother before she died. It sounded as if Marcia was hacking up her lungs. Tod turned to face Septimus, wide-eyed.

"She's only coughing, she'll be fine," Septimus told her, although he seemed very unsure of himself. He kept his eyes focused on the doorway even though he couldn't see into the sitting room from where he was standing.

"Are you sure? My mother used to cough like that, and she died," Tod replied.

"Marcia doesn't have the Sand Sickness Tod," Septimus said gently, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. He was about to say more, but it sounded as if the coughing was getting worse and they both stopped to listen, watching the doorway.

Milo could do nothing but hold out the glass of water for his wife and hand her tissues as she coughed. And coughed, and coughed and coughed. He now sat beside her on the sofa, rubbing her back soothingly and hoping the coughing would soon stop. He hated the sound of it.

Finally though, after what seemed like ages, Marcia's coughing began to ebb and she was able to take a sip of the water. He took the tissues from her dutifully as she did so, and when she put the water down she was gasping for air. "Shh, just breathe," Milo soothed.

The first thing she said after gaining back her breath was, "Maybe I'll get lucky and cough up my lungs." She laughed hoarsely.

"That's not funny, Marcia," Milo scolded.

She sighed. "Yes, but if I coughed up my lungs then at least the cancer would be gone."

He sighed too. If it was physically possible for her to cough up her lungs and not die, then yes, her cancer would be gone. He didn't want to think about her cancer anymore than he had to though. "You ready?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, I am."

This time when he helped her off the sofa, she didn't break down into a coughing fit.

Septimus breathed a sigh of relief when they finally heard the coughing stop. "See Tod, she's alright," he told his apprentice.

Tod wasn't so sure. There was something he wasn't telling her. She wondered what it was.

She didn't have too long to think on it however because soon Milo and Marcia entered the kitchen.

"Do you have a non-syrupy dinner for us, Septimus?" Marcia asked him, her tone teasing.

"Yes, actually, I do." Septimus was relieved that she was feeling well enough to joke with him, and said nothing about her recent coughing. He could tell she was grateful for his silence on that subject to.

Tod was going to ask Marcia about the coughing, but her comment about the syrup made her pause. "Non-syrupy dinner?"

"When Septimus was my apprentice, he—"

Septimus laughed nervously. "Can we not talk about that Marcia?" he pleaded.

She only laughed. "Alther shared all his stories about me with you, It's time I share some of mine about you with Tod."

Dinner was spent with Tod and Milo laughing at Marcia's stories, and Septimus blushing with embarrassment as he ate his food.

Marcia's stories distracted Tod from asking about her cough, and Tod didn't even notice how Marcia didn't eat any of her food, and instead pushed it around on her plate with a fork.