"Trent?" Helen's voice seemed to be coming from somewhere far away.

Focus and breathe, focus and- What the hell is that smell? …ah, yes the puke. It smelled even worse than last night.

Trent opened one eye and then the other after feeling the persistent hand on his shoulder. Helen's concerned face slowly came into focus. He tried to sit up from where he half lay in the hallway, but failed.

"Just be still a minute," she firmly suggested and stood to discard of her overcoat by tossing it as close to the nearest chair that she could. "Now, let me help you." She moved so that she was on the side of him to use the wall as a brace and then with his help, they got him into a standing position. Now it was only a matter of walking him to the couch while he still had some strength.

Helen looked at the young man lying on the couch looking more exhausted than she had ever seen anyone look, then she looked at her surroundings.

This is not suitable for someone trying to recover from- from- It's just not suitable for his situation.

"Thanks for helping me get to the sofa Mrs. M."

Trent's voice brought her eyes back to his pale face that was studying her.

"I'm okay now. Just had a bit of trouble making it to the bathroom in time…"

"It's okay Trent. I came by to check on you…I know Daria came by…"

"Yeah…" he sighed. "I think I hurt her feelings."

"I'm sure she'll be fine."

"I didn't mean to hurt her. I was just so tired and she thought it was because I had been partying all night; I didn't want to tell her the truth."

"Trent," Helen spoke a lot firmer than she felt, for her heart lurched for him and for her daughter. He looked at her expectantly. "You shouldn't worry about Daria. Your focus has to be on getting well and staying well. Now, where is your anti-nausea medication? I want to make sure that you're taking the right amounts, so that it doesn't hit you so hard again."

He looked at her sheepishly.

"You didn't get it filled did you?"

He shook his head.

"Why?"

"I can handle the nausea; this was just and accident is all."

"When was the last time you spoke with Amanda and Vincent?"

Who? Oh, yeah my folks. They're always just mom and dad to me.

"A of week ago…" Trent sat a bit straighter, trying to gain a bit of his composure. Mrs. Morgendorffer was smart and as nice as she was being, the lawyer in her was continually figuring things out. "And no, they don't know. I tried to tell them, but Mom was so excited about her and dad finally being on the same continent to do each of their assignments and spending some time together that I decided to wait. They're supposed to be back in a couple of weeks. I'll tell them then."

"What about Jane? You two have always seemed close."

"That's why I didn't want to tell her until I knew if the treatment worked. She needs to focus on school and her art work."

I also didn't want her to tell Daria either. They both have a shot at making something out of themselves. I will not be the cause of either of them not doing that.

"She's your family. I know that she would want to be here for you."

Trent looked straight ahead determined.

"I don't want her worrying about me. I am the older brother. I protect her."

"Trent," Helen placed a hand over his, "Cancer is not something that anyone should ever face alone."

"You have cancer?" Jane's voice came from the entranceway behind them where she stood still holding her duffle bag and now wore a look of shocked fear on her face.