Three silent souls were seated in the waiting room, staring blankly at the wall in front of them. They had been staring at the same wall for hours now. The sky was starting to blossom a light purple- pink as dawn began to reveal itself. They didn't know how long they had been there or what time it was, but it didn't matter. Not now.

The oldest of the three, Nick Lucas ran a hand through his disheveled curls, repeating the act he had been doing nervously all night and early morning; Joe, the second oldest continued closing and opening his fists until he felt as if all the blood had left his hands. And finally, the youngest and most fragile of the three sat in complete silence, not moving or saying anything at all. If Nick could have taken one glace at her, he would have thought she wasn't breathing.

Hesitantly, he reached over to layer his hand over hers, but she had moved away before he had the chance to even pick up his arm. Disappointedly, he turned back around in his chair and let the tense silence continue its inhabitance. The soft clicking of footsteps walking towards their direction caused both brothers to snap up. Miley stayed frozen, her eyes glued to the blank wall with no hint of emotion or feeling. She looked like a painted portrait hung frozen in a gallery.

"How is she?" Nick asked first as he glanced up at his approaching mother.

"Is she going to be okay?" Joe asked, his voice cracking. Denise glanced down at her crossed arms and shifted from foot to foot.

"It's not good," she explained in a soft tone as if it were a secret. "She's sick."

Nick and Joe shared a look between each other before glancing back up towards their mother. "Like she got her cold back?" Joe asked timidly, though even he knew his mother would shake her head at his question. Everyone knew it was more.

"She has cancer," Denise mumbled, her eyes clouding with an expression her sons couldn't read.

"She can get treatment for that though… Right?"

Denise shifted to her other foot again as she shut her eyes and shook her head. "The cancer is at stage four. It's too late. There's nothing left we can do."

Nick felt his entire body freeze over. He forgot how to breathe, he forgot how to think, he forgot everything. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't happen. Not to them. Not this summer. Joe had begun to cry next to Nick, shielding his face with his hands as he curled himself into a ball. Nick glanced over at Miley who continued her blank stare. She hadn't moved once.

"Where is she?" Nick finally asked, a tear sliding across his cheek.

A soft, sad smile twisted onto their mother's lips as he grabbed for their hands including Miley's. All three followed her down the hall until they stopped in front of a room. It was a room that looked like any other; any other patient, any other life, any other mother. But it wasn't. Inside that room was Tish, and she was dying.

"She wants to see you first, Miley," Denise explained, reaching over to touch Miley's arm. The frozen brunette shut her eyes and cringed as if our touches burned her. After a few minutes, she finally shakily stood up, her eyes red- rimmed even though Nick hadn't seen her cry. She moved forward and disappeared behind the door.

Miley spent almost half an hour inside Tish's hospital room. By the time she exited, she looked as blank and numb as she was before she entered. Joe went next. His visit was shorter, but he was a complete mess by the time he walked back into the hallway. Nick walked over and grabbed his brother in a hug, hating to see him so weak. He had only seen Joe cry on one other occasion and that was when their dog, Logan had died by a hit and run accident.

"Go," Joe finally whispered as he pulled away, wiping at his eyes with the back of his palms.

Nick stepped back, giving Joe and Miley one last look before he stepped into the hospital room. The moment he entered, the stiff smell of medicine and sheets filled his senses. Everything felt so artificial that all Nick wanted to do was take Tish away from there and into the summer home that was so familiar to all of them. If she was going to die, he didn't want her here.

He found her on the other side of the room. Her hospital bed was pressed up against the far side of the wall, nearest to the window where dawn was breaking. Nick felt a small smile tug at the corners of his lips knowing that Tish had most probably demanded that spot. His smile instantly fell as he caught sight of her pale face, and the tubes and wires that pierced almost every patch of skin on her wrists and arms.

He felt his knees go weak as he stumbled forward and grabbed for her hand. Even through her sickly pale complexion, Tish's smile didn't seem to fade as she squeezed Nick's hand weakly. "Nick," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Please don't cry on me. Joe was already enough," she laughed, though it was strained as if it were hurting her.

Nick couldn't find the right words to come out, so instead he just stood there and held her hand, afraid that if he let go she might vanish. "You'll get better, Tish. Just… just don't give up. Okay?" Nick smiled weakly, tears falling across his cheeks.

The pale blonde mimicked his weak smile and pressed his hand to her cheek. "You'll always be my little Nick. You and Joe. Denny and I always joked you were secretly my sons."

"Technically, we always were," Nick smiled, kneeling so he was face to face with Tish.

A small weak smile danced across her pale lips as she gave his hand one final squeeze. "Don't give up on Miley, Nick. Take care of her for me. Promise me."

"I don't need to. You'll be here to do it yourself," he mumbled desperately, finally realizing how cold her hands had become. A hint of a smile curled at the ends of her mouth, almost making her look like the bright Tish that would read him stories all those summers ago. Finally, Nick exhaled a deep shaky sigh and tightened his hold on her frail hand.

"I promise."