Got my mojo back for this story and honestly I was avoiding writing it because it made me said and I don't like to cry so read but if you get emotional, have a box of Kleenex as well lol JK. Read and Review even if it's just your favorite line...Makes a person feel good lol. After this 1 more chap left...Enjoy =D

-NWJ

Another blink of an eye

67 is gone

The sun is getting high

We're moving on...

As Daniel's reflection stared back at him, mimicking his every move, his eyes trailed over his hair, a salt and pepper mix of what used to be in brown mane, now a combed back representation of men's finest. When he saw himself, he no longer saw the party drunk that would get morning blowjobs in his office and nightly nookie in his kitchen. He saw a man, a real man...a business mogul, publishing king and arguably the most respected but most definitely, the richest man in New York City. When his foot landed on the street, the pavement became respectable. When he hired you, you became ideal. He had the mightus touch and no one could take that away from him...While all of this was fine and well...It wasn't that side of him he was worried about. It was the man that took care of his business...The man that took care of his family, through better...or worse.

Out of the corner of his eye, the mirror reflected a mumbling Wilhelmina, seemingly angry as she fumbled with the buttons on her shirt, a blue silk blouse. Quickly finishing his with his tie, Daniel walked over to her, brushing her hands from her shirt, beginning to carry out the process for her. At this point, she had learned to comply, only muttering her grievances under her breath.

"I could have done that myself." She retaliated just as he finished. He moved to tuck it into her white pencil skirt and she slapped his hands angrily, rolling her eyes before doing herself. "I can do it! I'm not senile you know."

"I know honey." He responded, walking into her now walk in closet that he had changed to make it easier for her to access her clothes. "What shoes are you wearing?"

"Blue Loui's." She yelled back from the room.

He sighed, sucking in his teeth. "Babe, you got rid of those yesterday."

"I did not!" He heard her yell angrily. Counting down subconsciously, he heard her stomps come closer and closer until she reached the closet, still mumbling. "I will show you...I know what I am talking about...Not an old woman...damn...shoes..."

He watched as she scanned over the blue section of her closet and sighed, crossing her arms over her chest before turning around to face him, a scowl on her face before leaving the large area. Daniel looked over the selection and picked out his favorite, waltzing out with them between his fingers. He set them before her and kissed her cheek. "You can wear these..."

"I was going to wear my Blue Loui's."

"But you don't have them anymore...Plus they were too high anyway."

"What are you? The shoe police? I'll wear stilts if I want to!"

She spun around, acting as if his statement was preposterous, and continued to put on the shoes he suggested despite that. She was becoming irritable, angry, upset, and sometimes unpleasant. It was if she was angry at the world, angry at herself, angry at God for dealing her such a nasty hand. She no longer saw the good things in life and everything... was shielded with a cape of darkness to keep it that way.

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As they rode in the car, Daniel's hand crept over to the center console, resting atop of hers while they were driven through the streets of New York, still the capital of crime and fashion. She stared out into the window, not saying anything until he initiated a conversation.

"Marc tells me that you missed another meeting..."

"Your hair dresser tells me that you have a receding hairline."

"Wilhelmina I'm serious...Now if you need the doctor to up your dosage-"

"Upping my dosage isn't' going to do a damn thing Daniel and you know it..." Her words cut precisely, making sure he got every meaning. He swallowed, looking out the window, his usual method when she got that way. He felt a hand grab his jaw and twist swiftly, making him face her. "Look at me Daniel." He looked away as he felt his eyes begin to dampen. "I said look at me!" She raised her voice, holding his head still to make him do as she told him. "I'm getting old...I have a terminal disease, I'm dying Dan-"

"Don't say that!" He jerked back from her hold, angry as his two fingers supported his head. "You know how that makes me feel, Wilhelmina."

"Oh well, maybe I FORGOT!" She retorted, switching to her side of the Town Car, restoring the past bar of silence.

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"The mean life expectancy following diagnosis is approximately 7 years..." They sat across from the older physician, both listening intently until Daniel felt Wilhelmina stiffen next to him, her face a monotonous glare of resentment. "How long ago were you diagnosed?" Both men looked to Wilhelmina and only Daniel could tell that she had no intention of answering and was as close to the door in her mind as she could be.

His hand moved to stop her bouncing knee, the jerking stopping immediately under his palm. Daniel looked up at the specialist, a keen look in his eyes as he stared through his glasses. "8...she was diagnosed 8 years ago...in May."

Doctor Rubenstein leaned forward, his hands joined on the desk before him. "Look...Wilhelmina I've known you for quite some time and I want to help but I'm not sure there is much that I can do...Now there are ways to delay the advancement but that will be hard since ou are already in the moderater stages..You can try therapies...Emotion-oriented interventions include reminiscence therapy, validation therapy, supportive psychotherapy, sensory integration, also called snoezelen, and simulated presence therapy. Stimulation-oriented treatments include art, music and pet therapies, exercise...If you're serious, there is a trial including medical marijuana that has proven effec-" He ceased his speaking, interrupted when she rose from her seat and stormed out, Daniel running behind her. He caught her elbow in the hallway and she spun around, looking at him incredulously.

"What the hell, Wilhelmina."

"Daniel if I'm going to die, I'm going to die...No amount of pot is going to change that, if anything it'll make things worse."

"Wilhelmina's he's trying to help you."

"Well I don't need help, I don't need anyone's help! I'm Wilhelmina fucking Slater!" She snatched her arm away and stormed out the back door, leaving Daniel behind with a sting in his heart. The last time he heard her say that, it was out of frustration, bitchiness and it was 20 years ago. The last time he heard her say that, he laughed, he was tickled, he found it to be the funnies thing in the world...But today when he heard her say that...He stuck his hands in his pockets, his lips pursed in an attempt to keep his emotions in check for this time, she said it out of up sheer denial. As a realization came over him, he ran after her, seeing that the town car was still there, empty... and she was no where to be found.

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Daniel turned the black and white halls of Slater, it's make up similar to Mode's. Passing the intern's desk, he searched for her assistant, finally spotting the pale redhead over in the kitchen, holding a black tray in her hands. He ran up to her, making her jump.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I just...I'm looking for Wilhelmina, have you seen her?"

"No." The naive young girl replied, attempting to move on.

"Is that her lunch?" Daniel stopped her again, looking at the salad, huge croutons lying on top. The girl nodded silently and Daniel sighed. "Why would you bring her lunch if she was not here?"

"I was just getting it ready."

"No...You couldn't have been getting her lunch ready Madison because..." He reached into the salad and picked up a crouton, nearly half of his thumb. "I specifically told you that when you prepare Ms. Slater's meal, they should be cut in small portions and if she has croutons then they should be bought small or cut small...These are nearly half of my face."

"I'm not a chef, and she's a diva...If she has special needs then get her a nurse because that's not my damn job."

"That's right, because you don't have a damn job anymore!" He snatched the tray from her and dumped the salad in the trash. "Because you're fired."

The girl scurried off and Daniel dropped the tray on the table angrily, about to strangle someone if he didn't find Wilhelmina. What if she had an episode in the middle of Manhattan? Disoriented, not knowing where to go...What if the press finds out about her ailment...What if-

"Hey boss boy..." Daniel spun around to see Marc walking towards him, an accomplished Editor-In-Chief of Mode, married to Cliff and parent to 2 adopted children. "A little birdie told me that you lost your lady..."

"Where the hell is she?" Daniel rushed over to him.

"Don't worry, she's at Mode an-" Daniel sprinted forward, mashing the elevator button until it nearly stayed stuck in. Before he stepped on, Marc stopped him, putting a hand to his shoulder. Daniel sighed, reading the look in his eyes.

"What year is it?" Daniel questioned, rubbing at his forehead.

"It's Fashion Week of 2006 and Alex just revealed to the world that he is now Alexis...She hates you but I convinced her that you two made up and now can stand each other...I put her in my office, which happens to be her old office so she just thinks that she remodeled."

"Thank you Marc..."

"Daniel!" Daniel turned around to see Isaiah rushing from the downstairs closet, models wearing his designs following behind him. "You lost my mom?"

"Don't worry, she's fine...She's just 30 years in the past..."

"Do you want me to..."

"No...I'll go...I think this time, she can go without the explanation of who you are." Isaiah nodded, growing accostomed, as hard as it was, to stay clear of his mother when she was like this...when he didn't exist...When she couldn't even tell him his name and he was just another designer looking to be booked.

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Daniel looked at Wilhelmina as she sat in her old office, not much being changed besides the things on her desk since she had given all of the furniture to Marc for him to have and he never saw it wise to change it. She sat at the desk, looking over the futuristic photos for the next issue cover.

"Wilhelmina..."

She looked up; scoffing when she saw it was him. "I'm guessing that you oversaw this shoot..." She pointed to the Model, barely wearing anything in the new Less is More Era.

"Yeah...We can re-shoot if you want."

"If I want?...Please...I already booked Simon Moore for tomorrow."

Simon Moore died 10 years ago. "Oh really? Sounds like a real money maker..." No he was left wondering who the hell she called and what damage control Marc would have to do.

"Don't patronize me Daniel; I'm too tired for that."

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"Just because we are supposedly acquaintances does not mean that you can just simply take me home and have your way with me...I'm not a sex slave...I'm just gorgeous."

He smiled and lifted her coat from the chaise. "I'm just taking you home...nothing more."

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After pretending to leave and waiting until she fell asleep, Daniel made his way back into the apartment, too tired to stay awake and too burdened to face his dreams. Silently, he took up a scotch at the island, thinking over the events of the last decades. How he watched so many lives begin and even the more end. How he watched the cycle of life take it's course, over and over and over and over and over until it just made him sick...How someone could be there one moment and be gone the next, be willing to die one moment and ready to stab you in the back with their next borrowed breath. How he was watching...the life leave the most important thing in the world to him...How he was watching her become an irritable, bitter person...Something that burnt the core of his soul. Something that made him irritable and bitter...Made him feel as if not only was she being punished but he as well...As if he could never be happy without there always being a catch...a condition...a bottom line...Sure they had good days...but they were far and few between the bad days.

Hearing a rattling in the master bedroom, he set his glass on the counter, walked down the hallway, and into the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, only the light by the bed on as she fiddled with something in her hands. As he got closer, his heart broke as she cried over the clock from her wall that he guessed she had gotten down. She played with the back, trying to do something but seemingly failing. "Damn...dammit...DAMN!" She banged on the glass on the face of the clock and it shattered, the glass cutting through her mocha skin.

"Wilhelmina!" He ran forward, snatching the clock from her, but not without her putting up a fight. He ran to the bathroom and wet a rag, coming back to her glass pierced hand. "What the hell were you trying to do?"

"It was going too fast!" She retaliated, her hair sticking to her face as they were drawn to the tears that ran down the hills of her cheeks.

He looked down at the clock before using the tweezers to pluck spare glass from her wounds. "The-The clock?"

"It was going too fast! It didn't have the right time...I -I was trying to fix it and I-Time was just going by too fast!" She shook her head as she exclaimed, trying to make sense of her shrinking vocabulary as her memories faded away.

He looked up at her, now wrapping her hand in a cool, damp rag, pressing on her wounds. For some reason he understood, he understood her subconscious, the words she didn't say and the few words she did say.

But this wasn't enough for her. She needed to hear him voice his approval, his understanding. She snatched her wrist away, holding her own wounds. "You think I'm crazy."

"No..." His knee slid on the bed and he touched hers, eyebrows bunched. "Honey I would never-"

"You think I'm a senile, crazy bitch and you don't understand a damn thing I'm saying!"

"No Willie..." He felt a sting behind his eyes as he listened to her feel as if he didn't care when she was the one of the few things he had left to care about.

"No! You're in Denial and you're taking it out on me by making me the crazy one!"

Daniel jumped up, something in him snapping. "Denial? Denial, Wilhelmina? I never even had the time to BE in Denial!" He yelled angrily, feeling as if everything he did was being discredited. "If anything, I'm the crazy one! I waited...and waited...and waited for you to love me and when you finally did...I had you...physically I had you...But not all of you! Do you know what I could be doing right now? Do you know how much I love you? How much I gave up for you? Do you even think about what this is doing to me Wilhelmina? DO YOU!" He was practically purple in the face as tears streamed down his face and his final words came out in a raspy whisper. "We were supposed to grow old together!" He turned to the nearest wall, his frustration coming out in his fists as he made a hole of anger through his punch. He turned back to her, running his throbbing hands though his salt and pepper mane. "But I feel like your growing old and I'm just watching you and it's killing me...Wilhelmina it's killing me!" He clutched at the chest of his shirt and Wilhelmina stared him, eyes giving him a glassy glare.

"Why are you so upset?" She questioned, not knowing why she was crying herself.

Daniel looked up at her, sniffling a bit before taking a seat next to her and thanking God she didn't remember what he had just said so that she didn't feel the burden that he did. "I'm not upset..." He lied, figuring he could spin it to his advantage..."

"But you just punched..."

"You look tired..." He smiled weakly and touched his good hand to her cheek, the tears still running down his face from his episode. He stood and reached at the covers, pulling them back for her. She looked to him curiously and he nodded, giving her the go ahead to get in. She obliged, tucking her legs beneath the silk layers of blankets. She held her hand to her chest and watched as he moved to leave, probably to calm him self, have a moment to him self, make sure he still knew his self.

"Daniel..." He turned back and she spoke softly, neatly tucked in as she held her hand above the washcloth. "Don't leave me alone..."

He nodded, giving her a small smile before kicking off his shoes and getting on top of the covers. Quickly she made her way to him, her head instantly finding his chest as a pillow. When her breathing evened and her grip on him had loosened, he slid out of bed, not to get away from her but to spare her his somber cry. As he crept into the hallway, his steps became slower until all he could do was slide down the wall behind him, pinching at the bridge of his nose, letting out a sharp exhale that released his sobs.

A real man...a business mogul, publishing king and arguably the most respected but most definitely, the richest man in New York City. When his foot landed on the street, it became respectable. When he hired you, you became ideal. He had the mightus touch and no one could take that away from him...While all of this was fine and well...It wasn't that side of him he was worried about. It was the man that took care of his business...The man that took care of his family, through better...or worse. The man who's heart broke a little bit more each day, watching his love slowly slip farther and farther away from him. They were supposed to grow old together...Only they were...Just not how he expected.

Another blink of an eye

67 is gone

The sun is getting high

We're moving on...

~1 more Chap left until the end~

Read & Review =D

-NWJ