Chapter 4

I Saw Her Standing There

Beep. Beep. Beep.

C.C. groaned, stirring in her bed – it was 9:00 AM, time to start the day. Any moment from now Nurse Cameron would wheel in a cart carrying her breakfast tray, check her vitals and make small talk until C.C. had finished her breakfast and she could take her empty tray away and back to the kitchen. It was a situation that had become her routine for the last two weeks and, most probably, would be like that for the foreseeable future.

She didn't exactly dislike being at the hospital, but it was boring. The days were unchanging, monotonous, quiet… it was truly a tough change of pace for someone who was used to being up and about, running from one theatre to another while discussing business on the phone before she had even had breakfast. Wilson had told her that she was free to do as she pleased as long as she stayed on the premises, so C.C. had taken her time to visit the different facilities the clinic had to offer. She had first gone to the library, from where she had taken an enormous amount of books to her room; she liked the library, it was quiet, luminous and equipped with anything she might need.

She had also made a habit of strolling around the gardens – after all, it was just a matter of time before she was confined to her bed. At least that's what she supposed after receiving such horrible news yesterday…

Wilson had finally gotten the results of her tests, and he had taken a moment to come to her room after lunch to tell her exactly what type of cancer she had. As it turns out, she had stage 3B Mixed Cellularity Classical Hodgkin's Disease – an advanced type of Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She had three lymph node groups affected by cancer so Wilson had given her the crushing news that she'd need to go through 8 cycles of chemotherapy – aka, 8 months of chemicals being pumped into her body once a week – and then she'd need a bone marrow transplant. He had also told her that – even though it was an aggressive type of cancer – it had a good prognosis, the 5 year survival rate being around 75% and the 10 year rate being 80%.

It still didn't feel real, though… C.C. was kind of hoping this was all a bad dream from which she'd eventually wake up, but the more time it passed, the more she realised this was her new reality and that she'd have to get used to it. She was to start her chemotherapy that very same day after lunch, so the producer was truly not happy about having woken up. Part of her still wanted to refuse the treatment – from what she had been told the side effects were basically hell – but she kept reminding herself that that would be tantamount to a death sentence.

In short, she had to bite the proverbial bullet and be strong.

After all, the way she decided to face her treatment would impact on her new life, and she didn't want to spend the following eight months crying and pitying herself. She was a fighter, and she was determined to not let her illness steal her will to live, too. That's why she received her nurse with a forced smile when she came in with her breakfast; she didn't exactly feel okay, but Nurse Cameron always tried her best to cheer her up. What C.C. did ask for, however, was to eat breakfast alone, and after hesitating for a few seconds, the nurse calmly went away, promising to come back in a while to check on her.

But being alone soon proved to be the worst thing for C.C.. She felt sadness slowly enveloping her like bindweed, and suddenly the delicious pancakes before her seemed rather disgusting. Why eat, anyway? She'd soon be skin and bones even if she ate all the pancakes she could get her hands on…

The producer pushed her tray away and walked to the window – it had a fantastic view of the East gardens, and C.C. simply stood there, observing the beauty before her. It was kind of unfair – seeing life happening outside the clinic while hers was on a standstill. She was scared out of her mind of what was yet to come, and she couldn't help but to shed a few tears at the thought of what would happen to her that afternoon.

Had she not been so engrossed in her musings, she would have noticed Dr Wilson standing at the door, a sad look on his face. Miss Babcock was truly the strongest and most stubborn woman he had ever met, and it did pain him to see her try to keep a tight grip on her emotions when she was clearly struggling to cope. Most of his patients cried a lot during the first stage of their treatment, but this was the first time he had seen Miss Babcock do so.

Well, he'd be damned if he allowed her to suffer! As a matter of fact, an idea crept into his mind – maybe this was what she needed before starting treatment.

He walked into the room and towards his patient. The woman tried to wick away the few tears that were running down her cheeks when she noticed the presence of her oncologist, but Wilson didn't allow her to do so and simply enveloped her shoulders in a comforting hug.

"I'd say good morning to you, but somehow I believe you would not appreciate it," Wilson said.

"You really think so?" she replied with a sad smile.

"Yeah, I do really think so," he said, using the one arm around her shoulders to direct her towards the wheelchair they insisted she use to get around. They said it was more efficient, but C.C. suspected they were just trying to get her used to being in one. "But, there is something I think you will appreciate."

"What is it?" C.C. blinked at him, having to stop to pull her IV drip along on its stand so that it was caught up with them – seeing as she was getting her first chemo today, they were administering a cocktail of pre meds to get her body ready for the real chemo drugs. She clutched at it with her hand, so it stayed nearby as she sat in the chair. Wilson was obviously trying his hardest to keep her entertained, but the mystery he seemed to be implying was a little annoying.

"You'll see," Wilson pushed her into the corridor, towards the elevator. "We just have to go on a little adventure to get there."

"An adventure?" C.C. scoffed. "I'm not a child, you know."

"I never said that," Wilson pressed a button on the wall, and the doors to the elevator opened. He guided the chair inside, before stepping in himself. "Besides, adults can go on adventures, too."

Yeah, when they're well, C.C. thought to herself, watching the lights behind the elevator numbers glow briefly as they passed the floors. Eventually they came to the ground floor, the doors opened, and Wilson pushed her out into the corridor, taking a turning she hadn't gone down when she'd explored the place.

The corridor extended for some way, and just before they came to a corner turning, Wilson veered off, opening a door to what appeared to be a nice living room, furnished just as comfortably as any other in the hospital. Only this room had a rather large piano in it, as well as a stereo, and racks filled with CDs and shelves of sheet music.

"Welcome," Wilson announced. "To the music room."

C.C. gasped. How hadn't she been here before?! The music room was truly wonderful, and it had the biggest CD collection she had ever seen. The producer stood up and walked around the room, still absolutely amazed by the place her doctor had brought her too; she almost wasn't annoyed by having to push her IV stand around.

"It's… it's… fantastic!" she eventually said, her smile widening as she sat on the piano and her fingers rested on the polished keys.

"I knew you'd like it," Wilson walked to her, carrying a bunch of CDs in his hand. "But we are not here to play the piano – you can do that next time you come here."

Wilson took her hand in his and carefully removed her IV, so as to give her more freedom of movement. Then, without giving her an explanation of what exactly he had in mind, he turned for the stereo and put on one of the CDs. C.C. couldn't help but smile when the first notes filled the room – she knew that song! It was "You've Got To Hide Your Love Away" from The Beatles. She had danced so many times to that song… it simply made her smile.

"What are you up to, Wilson?"

Her doctor only smiled and offered her his hand. The blonde hesitated, but she eventually took it, and her oncologist spun her around, starting their dance. C.C. arched a questioning eyebrow – she supposed dancing to The Beatles wasn't exactly considered treatment for cancer, but part of her started to understand his plan. She had told him just how much she loved music, and her doctor had figured dancing and spending some time in the music room would cheer her up.

"I think, Babcock, that you ought to have a bit of fun before you start your chemo today, don't you agree?"

C.C. allowed her doctor to spin her again, and she laughed. Yes… she could have some fun before things turned ugly – besides, when was the last time she had danced? Well, there was that one time with Niles, but it wasn't the same.

"I happen to agree, Wilson, but let me tell you, you could have chosen a more uplifting song!" the producer pulled away from her doctor and browsed the CD collection until she found the one she was looking for. Wilson craned forward to see which one she had chosen, and scoffed.

"Elton John? Really?" the oncologist crossed his arms and sat down on the sofa by the piano. "I'd rather listen to The Beatles."

"Oh, give me a break, Wilson! This is what I used to dance to when I was a teenager!" C.C. pressed play and "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" began. She was grateful for Wilson having taken out her IV, it gave her a lot more room to move and dance. She remembered she would dance to this song in her room, playing pretend she was a big rock star – although she had stopped doing so when she was caught by her brother and consequently teased by him for a whole year.

"What are you two doing?" a sudden third voice said, and both doctor and patient turned to catch an amused Nurse Cameron stepping into the room. The nurse was maybe two or three years older than C.C., so she clearly must have danced to this song, too.

"What does it look like we are doing, Lisa?" Wilson said, standing from the couch and swaying his hips in a rather comical way. "We are dancing! Care to join us?"

The Nurse gave Gregory an unamused look that soon broke into a smile. "Oh, Wilson, you are unbelievable! Any excuse is valid to miss work for a while, eh?" she chastised but allowed Wilson to take her in his arms and started dancing as well.

C.C. couldn't help but laugh as the nurse joined in, dancing with her doctor. The producer had noticed that there was something about those two, possibly something not quite yet realised by either of them, but it was definitely there. She only hoped she'd be able to see more of it over the coming months.

God knows, she could use the entertainment.

Speaking of which, she was grateful that Wilson had brought her here. There was nothing quite like music to take her somewhere else – somewhere far away from cancer, and worrying about her job, her family, her friends...and certain people that she wouldn't describe as a friend but had been thinking far too much about for someone she claimed not to care for.

She couldn't believe the look on the butler's face through the glass doors and the car window that separated them as he left, fresh from dropping her off. He really had bought it, hook, line, and sinker. She'd almost been afraid that saying "Goodbye, Grandmamma" would be too much, and either she or Wilson would burst out laughing and ruin everything. But they'd held it together, and pulled it off.

And really, dancing seemed like as good a celebration of their good luck as any, while she could still move around.

"Are we having fun over there, Babcock?" Wilson called out, still dancing like someone's dad would at a wedding.

In truth, she really was. She didn't want it to end. The music finishing meant she'd be sooner to having to go back to her room, eating whatever lunch the nurses brought her whether she was hungry or not, and starting her chemotherapy.

The first of the eight rounds of treatment.

She immediately shook that thought out of her head. She couldn't think about that now! Not when she had the perfect opportunity to have some fun at her doctor's expense – he truly was a terrible dancer, but it was absolutely endearing to see Wilson dancing with her nurse.

"Of course, Wilson! Although I'd suggest you to take some dancing lessons," she retorted before releasing a loud laugh. Her joke elicited a chuckle from Nurse Cameron, too.

"Keep that up and you'll be sent back to your room!" Wilson grumbled.

"Oh, come on Wilson, don't be a spoilsport!" Cameron said, pulling away from him and turning to dance with C.C.. Both women knew the lyrics by heart, and were singing at the top of their lungs – they only hoped no one came to ask them to lower their voice.

"Woo ooh nobody knows it," C.C. sang off-key while swaying her hips in time with the music.

"When I was down, I was your clown!" Cameron joined in, mirroring the producer's dance moves.

"My God, I can't stand this infernal caterwauling!" Wilson rolled his eyes and went to get another CD from the rack.

Both C.C. and Cameron only shrugged and kept singing in unison. "Right from the start I gave you my heart, oh oh, I gave you my heart! Don't go breaking my heart."

"That's it! I am gonna put on some quality music," the oncologist exclaimed, pressing stop and putting on his choice of music. "And do my bleeding ears a favour – stop singing."

The moment the new song began, C.C. let out an excited yelp. My God, how she loved this song! It was "I Saw Her standing There" from The Beatles.

And speaking of seeing someone, C.C. and her nurse were so engrossed in swaying their bodies to the music that they didn't notice the gaping blue-eyed butler staring at them through the glassed doors.

Niles watched them dance for some time. He couldn't hear anything being said – the music was too loud for that – but he could hear the tone of The Beatles very clearly. And he couldn't help but watch the producer dancing, very obviously, with the help of one of the nurses.

Well, at least his fears about the hospital performing all sorts of horrid tests and unethical treatments on their patients seemed to be just a product of his overthinking and worrying imagination. C.C. seemed to be having a nice time. He'd been feeling guilty about having to leave her there ever since he'd dropped her off, so seeing her dancing and laughing like she was relieved him a little. Not entirely, for having helped to cause all of it in the first place, but enough, until she was better and he could properly start trying to make it up to her.

He wondered if she was feeling any better today, or at least more rested. She hadn't looked this happy in a while. Maybe all she needed was rest, and then she'd come back to hi- to the mansion. Back to work, and to real life, where she was needed.

It wasn't long before the same man as before – Dr Wilson, he believed – noticed his presence at the door.

Inside the room, Wilson froze, mid-dance move, eyes wide. Damn. Visiting hours must have started. He should have known Niles would be the first one through the doors, too. He seemed to care an awful lot for a man who Miss Babcock had once claimed to be her nemesis.

Come to think of it, she'd mentioned him quite a few times, considering she hated him.

He turned to the dancing women, "We have a guest – Babcock, pretend you're a teenager."

C.C.'s dancing slowed, and she blinked, "What?"

"Your butler friend is at the door!"

"Huh?" C.C. turned to look, but Wilson stopped her.

"Don't look, just keep dancing!" he hurried to put himself between C.C. and Niles' view of the door, still keeping the smile plastered to his face to prevent the butler from thinking anything was wrong.

He opened the door, but didn't allow the butler to come in, instead slipping outside to greet Niles in the more quiet corridor.

"Mr Brightmore! What are you doing here?" the oncologist asked, trying to keep his nonchalant façade in place.

"Well... I... I just wanted to see how she was doing," the butler tried to edge closer to the doors – the music had stopped, and he could now hear the two women inside murmuring something he couldn't quite understand.

"Oh, she is doing just fine! She just wanted to come and hear some music – she says she misses going out to parties."

Niles' face scrunched in confusion. Parties? What did he mean? The doctor seemed to understand his cluelessness and he simply gave him a gentle smile.

"She thinks she is sixteen years old. Hence her wanting to dance and go out to parties. That's part of the reason why she can't receive visitors yet. She won't remember you, and that could put unnecessary stress on her," Wilson explained slowly guiding him away from the door. He needed to get this man to leave as soon as possible – the longer he stayed, the greater was the risk of their whole ruse being discovered.

"Oh... and when will she-"

The butler trailed off, for the door was loudly opened by C.C.. She now had an IV connected to her hand, and although she looked the same, there was something odd about her... perhaps it was her posture? Or the fact that she was loudly chewing on a piece of gum, like most teenagers did? He didn't have much time to stare at her, though, for the woman turned to her doctor with a beaming smile.

"Hey, Wilson, I'll get going to the library, okay? I need to grab some books for Miss Parker's class – I don't want to get behind my studies while I am here!" she then turned to Niles and smiled at him, too. "Who's this?"

"Uh... he is a friend of mine," the doctor quickly replied. He was secretly impressed by his patient – she truly had talent as an actress.

"Oh, hi then," she reached out and shook the astonished butler's hand. "I am Chastity-Claire, but I prefer to go by C.C., it sounds more grown up. Aaaanyway," the blonde turned for the hallway and walked away, popping her gum. "I need to get those books before my therapy session after lunch. See ya later, doc."

She dashed off in the opposite direction as fast as her IV stand would allow her to, leaving a still-reeling Niles staring off in the direction she'd disappeared. Wilson looked back into the room, to see Nurse Cameron replacing the CDs back on the shelf.

"Leave those, Cameron," he waved a hand in the direction of the music pile. "Go with our patient and see that she gets everything she needs, okay?"

"Of course, Dr Wilson," the nurse smiled, and stepped out into the corridor. She looked around, frowning, her brow furrowed slightly. "Which way did she go?"

Niles pointed, "She went that way. She said something about getting books at the library."

Nurse Cameron nodded in understanding, "Ah, okay. I'll probably catch up with her before she gets there. It was nice to meet you, Mr...?"

"Brightmore. Niles Brightmore," the butler said. "A concerned friend of Miss Babcock's...a very concerned friend."

The nurse smiled and nodded, "I see. Well, it's nice that she had a visitor, even if you weren't able to see her for that long. I'm sure the more she remembers herself, the more she'll be able to talk with you. But for now you must excuse me; I must go catch up with her before she gets into any mischief."

Without another word, she began a brisk pace down the corridor in the direction C.C. had left. Niles sighed audibly. He had no idea if Miss Babcock's sudden burst in age, going from being a child to a teenager, was a bad thing or not. Would it simply take her time to remember her real age, and she'd be better again, or would she go back and forth, getting older and younger until she got better? Would she get better again, or would she stay where she was?

A perpetual teenager, not able to remember anything from the last twenty years of her life – not her work, her friends...not even him...

He shook that part out of his head as he turned towards the doctor. If anyone could answer his question, it would be Wilson.

"Do you think she will remember?"

Wilson almost felt sorry for the man. He was clearly concerned, and from what C.C. had told him, Wilson was sure Niles felt rather guilty for what had happened to her. It was curious, really. These two had a peculiar relationship, to say the least, and he wondered if there was more than impassioned declarations of hate and pranks between them.

"In her own time, she will. Just don't expect this to happen overnight – getting over this condition takes time," the doctor said, beginning his own way down the corridor. He had to get Niles out of the hospital as soon as possible.

"How long will it take?" Niles was almost afraid of the answer, but he had to know... he had to know for how much time he'd have to face a Babcockless existence.

Wilson sighed, almost resignedly. "I don't know. We'll see how she reacts to treatment, okay? Just don't come again until we tell you otherwise."

Niles felt like he had been slapped. He had played an important part to get her in the position she was in and now he wasn't even allowed to visit her? It wasn't fair...

But he was being selfish. Miss Babcock's mental health came first, and if being away was what would help her heal, then he'd stay away.

"Alright," he said, trying not to sound too deflated. "I'll get going then. I am sure you have other patients that require your attention, too."

Wilson smiled at the man and accompanied him to the entrance. "Don't worry. She'll be right as rain soon enough."

Niles nodded and tried to smile. He hoped her doctor was right... he didn't want to imagine life without his Babcock.

"You were absolutely brilliant!" Wilson said, bursting into C.C.'s room.

The producer was already settled on her comfy armchair, just by the window. Nurse Cameron had said she could choose where to get her treatment – in her bed, in the library, in the music room... but C.C. had preferred the privacy of her room and the comforts of a cushioned armchair. She wasn't in the mood to get in bed just yet, hence her preferring the armchair – it was big, comfy and she figured spending six hours there wouldn't be so bad. She had also sat the TV remote on a little table by her chair and had grabbed a few books to keep herself entertained while receiving her chemo – it couldn't be that bad, now could it?

"What can I say?" the producer shrugged, waiting for Wilson to start the dripping. "I took drama classes when I was at school."

"Well, it's obviously paid off," the doctor said, giving the IV – which was already connected to her arm – a quick tap to get the liquid flowing. "I'm surprised you stuck to being the woman behind it all, instead of treading the boards yourself."

C.C. shook her head softly, "I couldn't do that. I like telling people what to do and how to do it too much."

"I had noticed," Wilson smirked at her, delighting in her unamused expression.

A few seconds passed in silence, before C.C. spoke up again, finding the courage to ask about something which had been playing on her mind for a little while.

"...Speaking of telling people what to do, did the butler say why he'd come back?"

Wilson gave her a thoughtful glance, before seating himself in the other available chair. There she was, mentioning the butler again. He had to be the person she'd talked most about since coming here, Wilson was willing to bet on that, and Niles had referred to himself as a "concerned friend" to Lisa...

Wilson checked his watch. They had a little time before the drugs made effect, so they might as well pass it in some fashion. Talking was as good a pastime as any, and he was rather curious about the two blondes...

"He was concerned. He wanted to see how you were doing," the doctor answered.

It would be interesting to see how the woman reacted to that. It might help him make up his mind as to whether or not he actually believed the two didn't get along, or were just trying to hide the fact that they cared more deeply about each other than either was willing to admit.

C.C. nodded and stared down at the floor. She was starting to wonder if she had made the right thing when she had decided to stage a mental breakdown in front of Niles. She had believed no one would care or come to visit, but ironically enough, the person who was supposed to care the less, was the one who cared the most.

C.C. now felt more than a little guilty – the butler had looked positively destroyed, both when he had left her there and back in the hallway.

But she couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell anyone about this... if Niles ever discovered she had cancer only two things could happen: he'd be furious with her for having tricked him into believing she had had a mental breakdown; or he'd pity her, like most people would do.

No… she was better off alone. Besides, this was not his burden, it was hers, and she had to be strong enough to carry it on her own.

"Oh... well, I suppose he misses teasing me – after all, he did define me as his home entertainment centre," the producer tried to laugh, but she didn't had the strength to do so. Thinking about Niles was making feel oddly depressed. "I suppose I miss teasing him, too…"

Wilson could tell this, too. He glanced at his clock again – the medication would start making effect any moment from now. She'd start getting sleepy, and seeing as the studies had shown she was allergic to anti-nausea medication, she might be ill, too.

But what she had just said gave the doctor the answer he was looking for. These two didn't hate each other – far from it, in fact. He was fairly sure they simply pretended to hate each other but that deep down they cared more than they were willing to admit. He could see the guilt in her eyes, the guilt for having tricked him and making him suffer...

Maybe what they needed was time – time and a little push. He wasn't going to jeopardise their ruse yet, but Wilson made a mental note to start suggesting her that maybe she needed someone else by her side that just her brother. He knew that, when she'd started to feel the side effects, her emotional state would worsen and she'd probably give in and tell her friends and family about her illness. He'd have to wait and see…

"Is it normal for me to feel sleepy?" she asked, the drowsiness in her tone denoting the drugs were making effect.

"Yes, it is," Wilson told her, rising from his seat. "Would you like me to help you get settled on your bed? It'll be more comfortable, especially when you wake up."

"No, I'm good here..." C.C. yawned, and rolled her shoulders, getting more settled in her seat. She'd be in bed for a lot of chemo soon enough, anyway. She might as well make the most of what freedom of movement she could get. And she'd probably want to sit up when the nurses woke her up and brought her dinner, anyway. This would make things easier if she was still drowsy coming out of it.

"Alright, then," the doctor walked over to the corner of her room, picked up a bin, and settled it down by her feet. "This'll be here just in case you need to vomit, okay? It sucks to have allergies, especially to stuff which stops you from throwing up," he then grabbed a large, pink blanket that was laying at the foot of her bed and covered the producer with it.

"Thanks," C.C. mumbled, now barely awake. Her eyes were drifting shut, and she was curled up tight, nestled into the fabric of the chair.

"Not a problem," Wilson smiled softly at her, checked the whole room over, including charts, to make sure everything was in order for when C.C. woke up, and peeled off his gloves to put them in the disposal bin before leaving her to rest, and the chemicals to start the process of treating her. He shut the door behind him, leaving her in peace.

The walk up to his office was uneventful – the hospital was oddly quiet for visiting hours, but that was only a good thing for Wilson. It meant his patients, particularly the ones who were further along in their illnesses, got more time to rest. It also meant patients like Miss Babcock, who had few visitors, might not feel quite so left out when it came time for loved ones to come over and extend their best wishes.

Not that he'd ever had a patient who wanted very few visitors before. C.C. was the first, he'd have to say. But he would have to wait to try to change that. He needed her to come to the decision that she needed other people herself. Her brother would come, he knew that, and he'd allow Niles back eventually, but she'd need more friends and loved ones surrounding her than just her brother and… whatever the butler really was for her, because he sure as hell wasn't her enemy.

But he'd be a good place to start, anyway. When the time was right.