Title: Moments in Time

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I'm getting bored of writing this now...still Joss Stirling's...


Chapter Eight


I lie on my side with my legs curled up, Will's hand clenched tightly in mine. "Are you alright, Adrianne?" he asks me, using his free hand to touch my forehead.

"Yes," I say, biting my lip. "I hate lumbar punctures, but they have to be done, so I have to put up with it."

"That sounds more like you," Will kisses my forehead as the doctor comes in, wielding a tray full of instruments.

"Hello Adrianne, my name is Dr Tate, and I'm going to be doing your lumbar puncture today. Do you know the procedure?"

"Yes," I say, gripping Will's hand tighter.

"Good, then, we'll just get it over and done with, hmm?" he swabs my lower back with a cold antiseptic wipe and inserts the first needle into my spinal cord. I scrunch up my face at the stinging sensation, taking in a shallow breath.

Will bends over so his forehead is almost touching mine.

"Just breathe, Adrianne, breathe," he whispers as the doctor inserts the second needle, pulling it out a second later.

"All done," he says. With that, he heads for the door, a couple of nurses in tow. Maggie helps me to sit up after dressing the puncture site with soft bandages and tape.

"We'll have the results in a couple of days," she smiles.

"Awesome," I say shakily, leaning back against the pillows for a second, before getting to my feet, Will's arm around my shoulder..


"Addie, phone for you!" Sabrina comes bounding in the door. "Mrs Hawkins wants you to go and see her."

"I'm coming," I groan, rolling off my bed and sliding on my hoodie and headscarf. I was going to watch Will's soccer practice, but now, I honestly can't be bothered. He won't mind – he'll just think I'm feeling ill again.

"I don't know who it is, she wouldn't say," Sabrina skips alongside me as we head slowly down the corridor towards the stairwell. "But it looked pretty important."

It turns out it is important – it's the hospital. They're too busy to book me in for an appointment; test results are normally like that. "Miss Delemare?" it's the voice of the doctor who did my lumbar puncture.

"Speaking," I lean against Mrs Hawkins' desk, fiddling with the end of my scarf, suddenly feeling nervous. What if something bad has happened…what if the cancer's spread to my central nervous system? How am I supposed to tell Will that?

"We've analysed your results, and I am very pleased to tell you that you've gone into remission again," I only really register the word 'remission' before I start to cry.

"You're serious?" I ask through my sobs, taking in Sabrina's worried expression.

"Absolutely," the doctor sounds cheerful as well. Here's one of his patients who has been a success story. "Now, though, I'm assuming you know the signs, so if anything feels wrong, anything, you understand, you come and talk to a doctor immediately."

"Yes, sir," I say, giggling through the tears. "Thank you."

With that, I put the phone down, and turn to my best friend.

"It's official," I choke out. "I'm in remission."


I run out across the frosty soccer pitches, my headscarf flying behind me. I can feel the wind on my cheeks, and I'm not getting breathless. The world seems oh-so-beautiful today.

The soccer team are in the middle of a practice match – I don't care. "Will!" I scream at the top of my lungs, waving my arms.

He immediately passes the ball to another team-mate, jogs over to me, his cheeks flushed with the cold air.

"What's happened, Adrianne?" his eyes sparkle with worry and hope as I fling myself into his arms.

"I'm in remission," I cry. "We did it! It's gone!"

His body is frozen with shock.

"Are you happy?" I ask, pulling away to look him in the eyes.

He stares down at me, a smile stretching his mouth wide. "I have never been so happy in my entire life," he says, picking me up and spinning me around, his lips crashing down on mine. My whole body feels alive, happiness seeping from every pore.

"Oi, Benedict!" the coach calls out. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing my girlfriend!" Will calls back, cheekily.

The coach snorts. "Get back to practice!"

I smile, and kiss him one last time, standing on the edge of the pitch as Will rejoins his team, them whooping and clapping him on the back.

It's the start of the golden time.