Chapter Three

Thirteen
Acute Myeloid Leukaemia. Acute Myeloid Leukaemia.
It rolls off my tongue as I stand in front of the mirror, saying the dreaded words over and over. It doesn't sound like such a devastating disease really. Just a jumble of words that shouldn't mean anything important. It should be the name of of sandwich or a band, but not a form of cancer.
I smiled to myself, trying to tell myself that I can still look okay without my brunette locks falling past my shoulders, that the blue headscarf Ally picked out for me suits me just as well.
Allison. She's been so good to me. I don't feel I deserve it. I don't deserve it. And I hoped that fact would justify what I was about to do.

Cameron
"Hey, Rem" I smiled at her as she entered the kitchen. I had been chopping vegetables but stopped as Remy came in, instead sitting at the table and pulling a chair out for her to sit on. Her eyes are brighter today, thanks to the new cocktail of drugs Wilson prescribed her. She doesn't feel so nauseous all the time now, and she has more energy. But she still doesn't look too happy, and I frowned in concern.
"Remy?" She looked away.
"I think we should break up" she mumbled quickly. I froze, my mouth wide open in surprise. A lone tear snaked its way down her cheek. Her eyes were laden with guilt and regret, and the reason as to why she was breaking up with me suddenly dawned on me.
"No." I said. She looked up at me, surprised.
"Um... It wasn't a question..." she said, blinking at me. I took her hands in mine.
"Look Rem, I know it's hard for you to let anyone else do so much for you; you're usually so independent... But it'll be fine. I don't mind, I love taking care of you, baby. It's so worth it, and if you walk away now we'll both regret it for the rest of our lives." I saw her flinch at the last part.
"But... If I... If I die, what will you do then? I watched my mother die, Allison, my mother. And you've already had one husband die. I don't wanna put you through that again. I've thought about this for a long time." I stared into her teal eyes, red from crying.
"So have I" I admitted. "And I still don't care." she managed a watery smile, and after we shared a hug, I got back to making dinner. And this time I didn't gently scold Remy when she started to help.

Thirteen
Allison had already gone to work before I got out of bed almost three weeks after that 'episode'. I stretched and groaned, not feeling so hot. I'd promised Ally to call her if I felt ill again, but I didn't want to disturb her. Working was the only time she got away from all this. I stood on wobbly feet and stumbled towards the bathroom. I only just made it in time, lifting the toilet seat and retching into the bowl. There isn't anything in my stomach though, so all I could throw up is bile. A minute later I sit back on my heels against the bathroom wall, panting. I reach for the thermometer that now sits on top of the counter. I measure at 103.8°. Too high. I shivered, and pulled myself up, using the wall as a support as I go into the kitchen to find my medicines. On the kitchen table was a pile of flapjacks with a sticky label next to the plate: EAT!
I smiled, but pushed the plate away, the sight of food making my stomach lurch again. Instead I grabbed my box of medicine, a glass of water, and flop onto the sofa, curling up into a ball. I clenched my fists and concentrated on staying awake. I counted the ceiling tiles twice, took my medication, threw up my medication, and got a heavy nosebleed. I sat on the toilet seat, holding wads of tissue to my face, trying to stem the flow. I waited for ten minutes, twenty minutes, twenty five minutes... And it still hadn't stopped. My skin was white as a sheet, and the room spun when I stood. In the end I crawled to the bedroom, took the phone from the charger, and dialled the number for Allison's department.
"Emergency department" came a voice from the other end of the line "Nurse Foster speaking." I asked for Ally, but she wasn't there. At lunch presumably. When the Nurse asked whether she could get anyone else for me, I asked for Dr. Cuddy.
"Lisa Cuddy speaking." I struggled to answer, my mouth filling with blood. Shit.
"It's me... I need help" I mumbled. Instantly Cuddy's tone became more alert.
"Dr. Hadley? What's up?" I coughed, splattering blood against our cream duvet cover. Ally's gonna kill me I thought, before I passed out.

Cuddy
I couldn't find Dr. Cameron anywhere, so I was forced to go without her to their shared apartment. I hadn't ever imagined them getting together; I was well aware of Dr. Hadley's bisexuality but I had always presumed that Allison was straight. Wrongly presumed apparently. Upon reaching their home I started to really regret not having taken anyone with me. For starters, the front door was locked. In the end I had to shatter the glass window above the door handle to get in. Secondly, I had no idea of bearings around the home.
"Dr. Hadley?" I called, and then "Remy? Are you there?" Silence pressed in on my eardrums. I called again, and peered into the lounge, the bathroom, and finally the bedroom. Oh God.
I ran towards the frail figure slumped against the bed, the area around her splattered with crimson liquid, red poppies strewn across the flower patterned rug when before it had only consisted of roses and lilies before. I kneeled down to take her pulse,weak and fast, and took the tissues from her unresisting hand, so pale against the blood smeared over her fingers. I clamped them over her nose, desperate to keep her from bleeding out.
"Remy? Remy! Wake up!" she moaned incoherently. "C'mon, this is an order! Open your eyes!" she was pale, oh so pale. I put a hand to her forehead. She was cold, and she was sweating. I leaned forwards to listen to her breathing. It was rapid. I took my cell from my pocket and flipped it open to find several missed calls from Cameron. I ignored these and dialled 911.
"This is Lisa Cuddy, dean of Princeton Plainsboro. I need an ambulance for a female Leukaemia patient aged in her late twenties who is rapidly losing blood and has gone into hypovolemic shock. I need an ambulance right away."

With the ambulance dispatched, I pulled Remy up and laid her on her bed, keeping her head flat on the covers and her legs elevated.
"Oh, God!" I voice breathed behind me. I spun round to see a wide-eyed Cameron staring at her unconscious girlfriend, a hand to her open mouth. I stared at her for a moment, opening my mouth to offer some words of comfort. On finding none, I shot her a look of sympathy and turned back to Remy. I turned her head to the side. "I, um... You wouldn't happen to have a suction tube would you?" I asked. Allison nodded and went to the bathroom to retrieve it. I nodded in thanks and held out my hand to take it. But she shook her head and knelt down to do it herself, carefully opening her mouth and draining as much of the blood away from her airway as possible. I watched her, almost mesmerised as she stroked Remy's cheek, whispered in her ear and cried softly. I sat on the bed and put a reassuring hand on her arm. She leaned into me, and I hugged her, my fingers stroking her back. Over her shoulder I watched Remy breathe, her chest rising and falling. I'm sure I even saw a little smile lingering on her lips, feeling the comfort and safety only the love of your life can bring.

...I suck at this, right? Too soapy? I guess I should maybe lay off Holby City for a while... Or perhaps maybe write for that show instead.
Never mind.
On another note, I very noobishly started three stories that I intended to have multiple chapters in within a few weeks of each other. Therefore, I am putting this one on hold, as it isn't attracting much attention anyway. Well, none of my stories are, but that's beside the point.
So... Yeah. Hope you enjoyed this anyway.