Sorry it took me a little longer than normal to finish this chapter, but I hope it's worth the wait. I appreciate each and every one of you that reads this. Can't wait for Wednesday when the show comes back.

Avery shifted listlessly on the hospital bed. Every part of his body hurt; no position was comfortable. The hiss of oxygen was the only noise in the room. Scarlett had brought over an iPod and a book the day before, but he couldn't concentrate. He didn't turn on the TV, didn't talk to the nurses who came to tend to him. He just wanted to be left alone.

It had been a couple of days and he was making some progress: he'd moved to a regular room; they'd removed the arterial line and the catheter; he received nebulizer treatments a little less frequently. The weakness shocked him, though. He had to call a nurse every time he needed to use the bathroom because it seemed his legs kept buckling underneath him. He couldn't go very far without being short of breath and found it near impossible to sleep. He'd finally broken down and asked for a pill the night before just to get a few hours rest.

Illness had a way of breaking down normal boundaries. Any sense of modesty was lost: God knew who'd seen him naked, who'd handled him when he was unconscious; he had to literally lean on a rotating cast of people he didn't know to help him handle the most basic tasks. Sometimes it felt like he was handing over control of his own body. He was powerless.

To make matters worse, the substance abuse counselor came see him the day before. Avery felt awkward and agitated around him. He thought the guy didn't believe him when he'd said he'd never done cocaine before and wouldn't again. The counselor was a persistent questioner, asking about why he'd been "drinking heavily" in the preceding weeks. He kept asking if Avery had felt angry, tired, or anxious. He said that depression manifested itself differently in men, that they were more likely to find relief in substance abuse and "risky behaviors." Avery admitted to him the darkness that had overcome him after the cocaine wore off, and the counselor said that was a common symptom, and why cocaine was so addictive so quickly. People would do anything to avoid the deep depression that followed the high, so they would seek out more of the drug and the cycle would continue. But Avery wouldn't tell him what was really wrong, and he felt they were both frustrated by the conversation.

He hadn't heard from Juliette since the night they'd argued about the drugs. Sometimes he'd pick up the bedside phone but he couldn't seem to call. He'd thought about sending a text but he didn't know who had his phone. Even a letter seemed beyond him at this point. He just couldn't stop picturing the betrayal in her eyes when she'd left.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Come in," he said, although he still had a little trouble with his voice.

Deacon poked his head into the room. "Can we join you?"

Avery didn't see anyone with Deacon. "Sure. Who's we?"

"Just me and my shadow," he said, opening the door fully. He walked in and Daphne followed close behind.

Avery smiled. "Your shadow looks more like sunshine to me."

"Hi, Avery," Daphne said, approaching his bedside but standing at a distance.

"Miss Daphne," he said. "It's nice of you to come visit." He raised the head of the bed a little to see better.

She smiled but didn't seem to want to look at him directly.

Deacon sat down in a chair beside the bed. "This one here came to my house with her Mama to pick up Maddie after a guitar lesson, and when she heard I was coming to see you, she insisted on coming along."

"Is that so?" Avery motioned to Daphne. "It's okay to come closer."

She moved to his side and pointed. "What's on your wrist?"

Avery glanced at his arm. "This is a pressure bandage. They had to put a tube in my artery, but they took it out yesterday. Now this bandage is pressing on there to keep me from bleeding. It should come off in a few days."

"What about your face? You have some bruises around your eye."

Avery didn't want to explain this to Daphne. He was embarrassed. "That was from something else. They're fading. Doesn't even hurt anymore."

Daphne looked at him steady. "I was really worried about you."

"I'm sorry to make you worry."

"I've been practicing piano every day. I miss our lessons."

"I do, too. I promise when I'm better we'll start up again."

"How you been feeling?" Deacon asked.

Avery turned to him. "Getting there. Still weak and short of breath, though."

Deacon shook his head. "Never in a million years would I have guessed you had asthma. Your breath control when you were singing was incredible."

Avery coughed. "Worked really hard on that. I thought I'd outgrown the asthma, that it was just a kid thing."

"You had it when you were a kid? That must not have been fun," Daphne said.

"Sure wasn't. I can't tell you how many times I was in the hospital back then. I even had a birthday there once."

Daphne's face darkened. "I don't like hospitals." She looked around the room. "Reminds me too much of when Mom was here."

Deacon and Avery shared a worried look. "I'm so sorry about that, honey," Deacon said.

"It means a lot to me that you came today. I know it's hard," Avery said.

"I hope you get to leave soon," she said.

"Me too."

There was another knock at the door. Everyone looked up to see Gunnar and Zoey standing there. "Hey," Gunnar said. "We can come back later."

Deacon shook his head. "Perfect timing, actually." He turned to Daphne. "Daph, these are my friends Gunnar and Zoey. Maybe you can take them for a walk around the floor for a few minutes?"

Daphne sighed. "I get it. You want to talk to Avery alone."

"It's just boring grown-up stuff, I promise," Deacon said.

Daphne walked over to Gunnar and Zoey. "Hi."

"It's a lovely afternoon for a stroll around the hospital," Gunnar said, extending his arm to her gallantly, which she took.

"I love your sneakers," Zoey said.

Deacon and Avery both smiled at them as they walked away. Then Deacon turned to his young friend. "So, Scarlett said she came by to see you yesterday but you weren't very receptive."

"I'm still not feeling great. Doesn't put me in the best mood."

"She also said Juliette wasn't here. That she hasn't been here since Thursday."

Avery looked away from him. "She's probably not coming back, Deacon."

"What? We couldn't get her to leave your side for ten minutes."

Avery grew quiet and shifted on the bed. "We had a pretty big blow-up. Everything's going to shit."

"I know y'all are in a very difficult place in your relationship right now, but I hope you'll consider how much she really does care about you. I was here a lot with her when you were on the ventilator. Girl was devastated at the thought of losing you."

"Not anymore," Avery said. "I made a decision that had consequences that I never imagined at the time. This being one of them."

"You want to tell me?"

Avery looked at Deacon. "You're going to be upset."

"Try me. Lord knows I've done my share of fucking up."

Avery played with the line leading to the pulse-ox on his left hand. "You remember when we were driving to Shotgun Sally's and you were talking about that look people give you when you disappoint them? That's how she looked at me two nights ago."

"You remember everything I say?"

"The important stuff."

Deacon had sensed that Avery understood what he'd said deeply, maybe more than he would ever acknowledge.

Avery rubbed his eyes. "Let me preface this by saying I know what I did was wrong, but I went ahead and did it anyway. I was just out of my mind after the arrest and everything. I went out with the guy I'm producing, Evan Rider, and his girlfriend. They set me up with this girl, and long story short, I got really drunk, so when she presented the cocaine to me, I didn't say no."

Deacon set his jaw. "You did cocaine?"

"One stupid fucking line. That's it. But Juliette and I found out from the doctor that it probably caused me to have the attack, compromised my lungs. That and all the stress I've been under."

"You're right, that was fucking stupid. You want to throw your life away?"

"I wasn't out looking to score, Deacon. I'd never done cocaine before and I won't again." He shrugged. "And maybe I did want to throw it away. Didn't have much to live for anyway."

Deacon stood up. "That's bull! I told you to call me."

Avery glanced at the man he was still in awe of, a man he considered a mentor and friend. "There's the look," he said.

Deacon ran a hand over his mouth. "I know you didn't anticipate any of this happening. But you've got to understand what this must be like for her, to almost lose you like this, and to know drugs played a part."

"I get it. But at the time, she'd rejected me completely. I thought there was no future for us. Well, at least no future for me."

"I don't like it when you talk like that."

"Deacon, I've been close to death many, many times before. The whole 'I've been given a second chance, isn't life a miracle' thing wore off when I was eight."

"That's pretty cynical."

"I'm tired of people telling me how grateful I should be, or expecting me to be enlightened or peaceful or whatever. When you're sick, life can seem pretty crappy, not like some gift to be treasured."

"Things will get better. It's normal to be down at a moment like this."

"I'm slowly realizing that this is my life now. Or, it is again. The medications, the hospitalizations, the uncertainty, it's all back." Avery looked out the window. "I'm not even sure if I can sing."

Deacon snapped his fingers, drawing Avery's attention. "Listen to me. You'll sing again." His eyes clouded over. "After the accident, Rayna thought she'd lost her voice. Just another thing I took from her. But she worked with a vocal coach and it came back. It'll be the same for you. We'll make sure of it."

"That's not even the thing that's got me worried the most. God." Avery bit his lip. "I don't want to say anything, but if I don't, I'll explode. It might be my partially my news anyway. Just promise me you won't tell anyone."

"I promise. What's wrong?"

Avery looked Deacon in the eyes. "Juliette is pregnant."

Deacon inhaled. "Wow." Then he winced. "Hate to ask this question – "

"We don't know yet. We did a paternity test. The results should be in soon."

Deacon briefly thought of the situation with Maddie, how everything could have been different if Rayna had only shared those paternity test results. But that was neither here nor there right now. "A lot of things are clicking for me. I knew she was hiding something and pushing you away."

"I thought so too, but when she was saying all that nasty stuff to me, she sure sounded convincing."

Deacon shook his head. "She's put you through the wringer lately."

"Understatement of the year."

Deacon hesitated before speaking. "Do you have a preference for the way this turns out?"

Avery thought for a moment. "I don't know. It won't be good if it's Jeff's. I'm afraid it's just going to be another confirmation to Juliette that life always fails her, that she's cursed. I don't want that for her." He coughed. "If it's mine? I'm not sure. No way am I ready to be a father, but I wouldn't walk away from my child." He looked down. "This all might be a moot point. I don't know if she'll go ahead with the pregnancy."

"That is a lot to take in," Deacon said. "I'm sorry."

"Guess I'll handle it as it comes."

"One day at a time."

"Rayna knows, but that's it. Please don't tell Juliette I told you."

"I won't say anything."

Avery pushed at his blankets. "I wonder if she'll even let me know the results, or ever speak to me again."

"I'm sure she will. Give her some time."

"Hope you're right." His voice was strained. "I don't know how much more I can take. I'm just so fucking tired of picking myself up and starting over."

Juliette caught a chill from the wind as she walked. It wasn't actually cold out, but the place always made her feel that way. She had to remember how many rows she'd passed, the placement of trees, before she found the right area.

When she reached her mother's gravestone, she stared at it for a long time. Reading her name and the years of her life, all too short, felt both inevitable and horrific. Though it had been a little over a year since her passing, Juliette could almost taste the pain, as fresh and piercing as the day it arrived. She knelt on the ground and traced the letters of her name with her right hand. "Hey, Mama. Sorry it's taken me a while to come see you. I don't like it here."

The air around her was silent, the grounds empty of people. "I want to talk to you. I spent so much time ignoring you during your last months. I regret it more than you know." Her mouth felt dry. "I didn't trust you. You never gave me much reason to before." She smoothed the front of her jeans. "There's so much I wanted to ask you, questions I never had answers to. Like, what ever happened to Daddy's flag?" A tear slipped out and she batted it away quickly. "I don't really remember much from his funeral, but I remember the guns going off and I remember them giving you his flag. I really, really wish I had it."

Juliette knew it was probably lost somewhere, or stolen. Maybe her mother got rid of it in her grief, tried to wipe out everything, everyone from that time. She never could see it before, but she really was a lot like her Mama: when they hurt, they wanted to obliterate every memory, by whatever means necessary.

"Everything's such a mess," she said softly. "When is it not? God, Mama, I'm pregnant." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You know, if you were here now, I think you'd be happy for me, even if you were a young grandma. But there's a problem. I don't know who the baby's father is." She reached out and rubbed her hand on the stone. "And I can't see going ahead with it if it's Jeff's, being tied to that awful man for the rest of my life." She bit the inside of her cheek, and noted the iron taste on her tongue. "But this is my first chance to be a mother. Is it even a baby yet? If I find out it's Jeff's, and I terminate, would that be killing my first child? Isn't that the worst thing a mother could do? But wouldn't it also be awful to raise the child and have it be a living reminder of one of the worst mistakes of my life? Would I resent it? That's no way for a kid to grow up. A child deserves to be cherished."

Her lower lip trembled. "And if it's Avery's, I don't know. He was using drugs, drinking, and I can't live with that, but I know I pushed him to it. It's not like him. I just can't believe he'd be so reckless. He almost died. He almost left me, and this child." Juliette waited, willing the universe to be merciful, to let her hear her mother's voice one more time.

Of course it never came.

Juliette shook her head. "The problem is I love him," she said, unconsciously echoing Avery's words from weeks earlier. "And if this took place under different circumstances, when I was ready, when he was, I would be thrilled. When I dared to imagine my future, he's the one I always saw by my side." She inhaled and could smell the fresh-cut grass of the cemetery grounds; it seemed incongruous for a place so haunted by death. "I don't know if we'll be able to work it out. We've hurt each other too much." She rose and brushed off her knees. "But this tiny part of my heart can't give up on him. On us. Not yet." She gave the tombstone one last look. "Love you, Mama. Thanks for listening."

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. So many people took breathing for granted. Hell, he had too, once the asthma had cleared in his teens. But now, all he could think about was getting oxygen into his lungs. He focused on the elevators at the end of the hallway. A nurse held onto his arm as he walked on shaky legs. He was giving it a try without the portable oxygen tank, and even though it was hard, he wanted to make it, wanted to prove that he could do it on his own.

"Doing okay, Avery? Want to take a break?" the nurse asked.

"No. I'm fine," he said, although it came out a little breathless. He focused on those elevator doors. Even though his chest felt tight, he kept pushing, but when the doors opened and Juliette stepped off, his breath caught in his throat and he stopped abruptly. Their eyes locked.

"Avery?" the nurse asked. "You all right?"

Exhale. "Yeah."

"Hey," Juliette said. "Good to see you up and around."

"Just going for a walk around the neighborhood," Avery said.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

She motioned to the nurse. "I can get him back to his room, if it's all right."

The nurse looked at Avery and he nodded. "Okay, you take it from here," she said, letting go of Avery's arm after Juliette had taken the other.

Neither one said anything as they walked. Avery didn't know how to start the conversation. He focused on keeping his balance; having Juliette see him like this, weak and sweaty, embarrassed him.

When they reached his room, he sat heavily on the bed. "Thanks," he said.

She poured him a cup of water from the plastic container on his rolling table. "Here. Looks like you need it."

Avery took the cup and drank it slowly. "Never thought walking down the hallway would be a challenge. I feel like I'm a hundred years old."

"Baby steps," Juliette said, then they both looked away, the words unintentionally charged.

When Avery finished the water, he set the cup on the table. "I didn't think you'd come back," he said finally.

Juliette pushed the table aside and then sat next to him on the bed. "I needed some time to think."

"Yeah."

"I've lain awake the past few nights going over everything, trying to figure out what I wanted to say to you."

Avery looked straight ahead at the wall.

Juliette sighed. "And I don't know what to say. I just can't stop being angry. I can't believe that you'd be so reckless and dumb."

"Funny. I've thought the exact same thing about you."

Juliette nodded, even though his words stung. "We each made an epically bad decision when we were wasted, when we thought we'd lost each other."

"I don't think it's fair for you to judge me for things I did when we were apart. And we weren't apart when you slept with Jeff. You hadn't lost me."

She turned her body toward his. "But I thought I had." She made a fist with her left hand, her nails digging into her palm. "I never told you this, but after our fight, after I'd cooled off a little, I went looking for you. I let myself into your apartment but guess what? You weren't there."

Avery's stomach sank. "Juliette – "

"Let me finish, Avery. So, I waited all night for you but fell asleep on your couch. When I got up in the morning, you weren't there. You never came home." Her voice was strained. "And then I thought, 'He's with her.'"

The tone of Juliette's voice chilled his blood.

"And I go to the hospital, and sure enough, there you were, right by her bedside where you'd been all night, holding her hand, telling her she'd always have a place in your heart." She whispered. "What the fuck was I supposed to think about that?"

The pain in her eyes ripped him open, but didn't absolve her actions. Avery spoke softly. "Maybe you should have thought you were eavesdropping on a private conversation, one you had no context to understand."

"Excuse me? My boyfriend is telling his ex that he'll always love her and I'm supposed to just calmly stand by?" She started to stand up, but Avery grabbed her arm.

"I never said I'll always love her." He stared straight into Juliette's eyes. "You misunderstood. What you heard was a conversation about letting go of the past. A conversation between two people who had shared a serious relationship for a lot of years, but grew apart. She grew up and I didn't."

Juliette opened her mouth to speak, but Avery held up his hand.

"I treated her terribly. I took her for granted; I manipulated her feelings for my own benefit. She did nothing but support me, but when she finally had an opportunity to do something for herself, I couldn't handle it. I wanted her to stay the same and I tried to guilt her into doing so."

"You're being too hard on yourself."

"No, I am not. Juliette, you've got to understand this. There hadn't been one day since I broke up with Scarlett that I hadn't hated myself for what I'd done to her. Sure, I tried to act like I didn't care, but I was fooling myself. I turned into someone I couldn't stand. So, I left him behind. I swore I would be different, and that I'd make it up to her, to everyone. I wouldn't be that guy anymore." He shook his head. "Then when her mother showed up, damn, it set off alarm bells. That woman's done shit you can't even imagine."

Juliette snorted. "Probably can."

Avery nodded, conceding the point. "But you didn't know her, I did. And I know what having her around does to Scarlett. I should have been paying more attention. I realized Scarlett was drunk right before the show and I tried to get you, I tried to stop her from going out there, but fucking Charlie Wentworth distracted me and damn it, it was all my fault." He buried his hands in his hair.

"And here I thought it was all my fault for making her go on. Isn't that what you told me?" Juliette said, folding her hands in her lap.

"No. I told you what you implied when you said 'that's how the business works.' That's it."

"Sure didn't sound that way."

"Look, I'm trying to explain something here." He sighed. "After I left your place, I drove around for a while thinking about how awful it must be for her to be in that hospital with her mother hovering over her, with no one there who knew what she'd really done to Scarlett. To be in the place she'd always feared she'd end up. I didn't want her waking up alone. Or worse, with her mother there. So I went to her room and they let me stay. She wasn't awake all night, I was. At least, until sometime just before sunrise when I dozed off." He coughed. "I wasn't sitting there pining for her. I wasn't remembering our past relationship. All I was thinking about was how I'd fucked up her life, again. She's the one who surprised me when she woke up, all that stuff about being her first love. After everything, I didn't think she thought of me that way. It was a moment to acknowledge the past. That it wasn't all bad."

Juliette sat rigidly. "Closure, huh?"

"Yes. Closure. We had a place in each other's lives, and that place won't be replicated. But I didn't want her and she didn't want me."

Juliette pressed her lips together, thought for a moment. "Here's the thing I think you forget. I might not be your first love, but you're mine."

Avery felt a little lightheaded hearing Juliette say that. He'd never believed it was true, that a nobody like him could be her first real love.

"And you left me that night. Didn't come back. You didn't think of me at all."

He nodded. "You're right. I didn't. Not until after that conversation. That's when it dawned on me what my actions must have looked like to you. I waited at your house for hours that night. I came to you the next day. I owned up to it and apologized."

She dropped her head. "You were too late."

His voice cracked. "I was. Just another example of the way I hurt everyone I love."

"Hey." Juliette looked up and touched his arm. "You do a lot more than hurt people."

Avery looked at Juliette: he could see the strength in her posture, a strength that was purchased at much too high a price; the flashes of light and darkness in her eyes; the wild beauty in all of her features. Even when his head was all screwed up, even when the pain was too much, he couldn't look at her and not be moved.

Juliette's phone rang in her purse, breaking the moment. "Sorry," she said. She left the bed and dug in her purse until she found it. She paused when she looked at the caller ID before answering. "Hey, Dr. Davis. Yeah. We're both here. Room 5103. Thanks." She hung up then looked at him with wide eyes. "She has the results and is coming to talk to us."

Avery brought a hand to his chest. "Okay." He motioned to her. "Come here."

She sat down again. "Whatever happens," she started.

"We'll face it, here, together."

They had sat silently on his bed for ten minutes before the door to the room pushed open. Dr. Davis walked in carrying an envelope. "Hi, Juliette, Avery."

"I appreciate you coming, Dr. Davis," Juliette said. "I know it's a Sunday."

"It worked out perfect. I'd just finished a delivery when I got the results from the lab."

"And?" Juliette reached over and grabbed Avery's hand.

She opened the envelope. "And the results are conclusive. Avery is this child's father."

Juliette gasped. She'd been bracing herself so hard for bad news that she almost didn't consider the possibility it could go the other way. Then she felt Avery's hand shaking. She turned to him. His eyes swam with tears. "Oh thank God," she said, squeezing his hand.

Avery didn't say a word.

"Juliette?" Dr. Davis asked. "You just let me know what you decide, okay?" She handed her the paper. "This is yours. Call me in a few days."

"Thank you, doctor," Juliette said. "I will."

"Glad you're improving, Avery," Dr. Davis said. "Hope you won't have to be back in here anytime soon."

He nodded to her, but still couldn't speak. She left quietly.

They both sat there for a long time, just looking at each other. Finally Juliette couldn't take the silence anymore. "Avery? Will you just say something?"

"Do you – do you want to keep it?"

"Yes," she said, the word rushing out almost without thinking. Except all she'd done lately was think about this one question. "I know we didn't plan this. I know it's happening at the worst possible time. But yes, I want this child, our child. You might not be ready, and that's okay. I can raise it on my own, you don't even have to be involved – " She was interrupted when he put a finger to her lips.

"Don't you say that. I would never walk away from my child." His eyes suddenly darkened. "I'm sorry I never asked this before. When are you due?"

"January 18th, give or take."

He stiffened as something hit him. "I'm not going to be there."

Juliette frowned. "What do you mean? You just said you'd never walk away."

His face crumbled. "Not willingly. But I'm sure I'll be in jail by that point."

Juliette hadn't considered this. His arrest seemed so far away after everything else that had happened. "You don't know that."

"I do. I won't be able to be there for you, for this baby. What kind of father isn't there for the birth of his child? From the second that he or she is born, I'll just be letting them down." A tear slipped down his cheek.

"You'll be there," she said, stroking his arm, not certain she was telling the truth, but wanting to believe it anyway. "You will."

Uncertainty colored his features. "This doesn't feel real," he finally said.

"You and me," she said, "Mama and Daddy."

They sat in silence. There was nothing more to say.