Episode 8: Only Human
Broken glass.
He recognized the texture and feeling of sharp pokes and shards stinging his back. Chris quickly rolled away from the mess, his shirt damp and clinging to his form as he got to his knees. Scrapes and cuts stung along his flesh, causing him to wince. His eyes refused to focus and he struggled to stagger up to his feet as the room shifted in senseless, dizzy circles.
Before Chris could regain his awareness, a blinding, blue sphere charged in his direction. His entire body tensed and with hardly the time to raise a hand he called for the deadly force. "Energy ball!" he shouted.
The electrically charged sphere was hot in his hand but despite his fatigue and the pangs rushing through his body, he easily handled the attack. It was second nature and in all his years of battling, habit and muscle memory worked to his advantage. With a grunt and off balance aim he flung the energy ball back in the direction it came.
It wasn't until the cerulean sphere left his hand and shot across the room that he spotted his adversary. The black shadow darted out of the way, crashing into a table in the process. Chris quickly jumped over the counter in front of him, landing on his feet with quiet agility, nervously glancing around the dim room when he couldn't spot his enemy.
"Don't run away from me!" he shouted. His voice echoed loudly in the empty space. He was tensed as he took timid steps forward, constantly glancing over his shoulder, turning in suspicious circles. "Come out!"
Chris' demands were suddenly met as a heavy force slammed into his back, forcing him to the hard ground. The two bodies tumbled across the floor, grunting and groaning until suddenly his attacker was on top of him. Her chocolate eyes were shrouded with terrifying darkness. He had no doubt that she would kill him. She kept a hand clenched around his throat as she pulled up a blade with her other.
"Bianca, don't," he choked.
She hesitated. The hold on his throat loosened momentarily but the sharp end of the blade remained inches from his throat. His plea made her falter and Chris quickly took advantage of her hesitancy. With a free hand he slapped her across the face and as she recovered from the shock of the blow, he quickly threw her from his body, sending her flying across the room.
Bianca landed in a pile of chairs, giving an angry cry as she collided with gravity. Chris was swiftly on his feet, pouncing up with energy and adrenaline. "Chair!" he called. As the piece of furniture was collected in a glow of blue orbs he hurled it down at Bianca who still clamored off the floor. She quickly shimmered out of the way, leaving Chris staring at the collection of overturned tables and chairs.
He panted for breath, wiping the sweat from the brow as he glanced around. Bianca silently shimmered in behind him and when the hair rose on the back of his neck, Chris quickly turned with only seconds to spare. A fat energy ball sped toward his face and he frantically ducked out of its way. With determination glowing from her face, Bianca formed another offensive attack, throwing it at her former lover with desperate velocity.
"Energy ball!" Chris growled, catching the ball in his hand. He prepared to throw it, only to find Bianca facing him with another energy ball in of her own prepared. The pair froze. Their arms were stuck in position, prepare to fire at one another.
Bianca could hardly gather her breath and swallowed down hard. "Go on," she said.
Chris remained frozen. "You first," he told her.
"You don't want to do this, Chris. You don't really want to kill me," Bianca breathed, forcing a smirk.
"You're right," he replied. He watched as her face fell in slight surprise. It was the smallest flicker but even after their short courtship he knew what it meant. He knew she cared. He knew she wasn't as callous and cold as she appeared. He knew her heart. And he knew he had her. Chris slowly lowered his energy ball, holding his arms out by his sides.
"What are you doing?" she asked in confusion. Her hand shook as she clenched onto her energy ball.
"Just do it," Chris replied. He took a step closer and Bianca flinched, backing up skeptically.
"What is wrong with you?"
"If you want to kill me so bad, just do it," Chris said.
"Don't be stupid," Bianca growled.
"Do it!" he yelled. "Let me make it easy for you."
"No!"
"Now! Do it!" Chris shouted.
Their eyes locked. Chris took a calming breath. Bianca tightened her grip on the energy ball, her biceps tensing as she prepared to release. She could taste vile at the back of her throat. The tension made her sick. Her stomach twisted in vicious circles. She was angry at herself for not being strong. For the feelings that held her back. Bianca's glare narrowed and she locked her jaw.
With a grunt and as much strength as she could muster, Bianca hurled the energy ball, doing her best to overcome the unbearable waft of regret.
…Four Hours Earlier…
It was half past eight and the San Francisco sky was an overcast gray, suggesting the March day was on track to be rather bland. For starters it was already beginning too early for Joey Mitchell who grunted his way through P3, arms loaded with a hefty box. Glass containers clanked loudly with each labored step and he groaned as he settled it on top of the bar. "Please tell me that's the last one," he sighed.
"I don't know, I'll have to check the inventory one last time," Chris told his cousin as he began unloading bottles from the shipment.
"It says that the Phoenix are morally ambiguous," Wyatt announced. He sat at a table nearby, examining the page in the Book of Shadows dedicated to Phoenix witches. He wore his white chef's jacket and desperately drank from his cup of coffee next to him. "Maybe she only kills demons?"
"She's working for Malum," Chris sighed.
"It's too bad," Joey muttered, helping his cousin to reload the shelves behind the bar with liquor. "She was hot."
Chris shot Joey a look before addressing his brother. "Wyatt, you don't have to worry. I'll take care of it."
He frowned in response. "You know I don't like the idea of that…"
"You don't trust me to follow through?"
"No. I just don't trust her," Wyatt answered. He glanced back down at the Book. "She's an assassin Chris. That means she's dangerous and if her objective is really to hurt you then she won't hesitate."
"I can handle it," Chris insisted.
"I know, but it would be smart to have backup," he tried.
"I got myself into this mess, I'll be the one to take care of it," Chris decided firmly.
"Not to doubt you, but how exactly is that going to go? I mean, obviously I have little to no experience in this department, but do you just say 'Hey, you're trying to kill me. That's not cool.'? Or do you just kill her?" Joey asked. Wyatt raised an eyebrow at his brother.
"I was curious about your plan as well," Wyatt said.
"Well, I haven't really gotten that far yet," Chris replied. He pulled the last bottle from the box and threw the cardboard aside. "But I guess I plan on telling her that I know she's a Phoenix. And that she needs to stay away from me and the family or there will be consequences."
"Sounds simple enough," Joey nodded. He straightened more glasses and bottles on the shelf while Wyatt fingered the pages in the Book of Shadows.
"You really don't have to do this alone," he told his younger brother.
"I know," Chris murmured. "But I'll be okay, Wy."
Joey leaned against the bar and gave his cousin a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry about all this Chris."
"Why?"
"I just think it would be hard. You trusted her and developed feelings for her and now you have to cut ties…"
"It's really not a big deal," Chris cut him off quickly. He looked away, casually examining a clipboard of inventory charts. "It's not like I love her."
Wyatt frowned, sensing the slight twinge in his brother's voice. "It's still not easy," he said.
Chris ignored him, continuing to check things off on the paperwork. He cleared his throat and glanced at Joey. "I think that's it. Thanks for coming in early."
"Not a problem, boss," Joey replied, exchanging a knowing glance with Wyatt. He knew it wasn't his place to ask Chris about Bianca any further but even he could read between the lines. The two shared a fist bump and Joey changed the subject to a lighter note. "Will I see you tonight for family dinner?"
"I'll be there. I don't want to miss Kate's homecoming," Chris said, managing a small smile.
"Or aunt Piper's famous lasagna," Joey grinned.
"Actually, I'll be making dinner tonight," Wyatt told him, swallowing down hard.
"No way, aunt Piper is letting you cook family dinner? That's sacred!" Joey exclaimed in surprise. "Is she feeling all right?"
"A little under the weather, but she'll be fine," Wyatt replied, catching Chris' gaze with a discreet frown.
"Well, I suppose you'll have to suffice in her place," Joey teased obliviously. He pulled on his jacket, straightening it as he came around the bar.
"We'll see you later, Joe," Wyatt smiled at his cousin.
"And good luck. I still find it remarkable that any university in their right mind would give you a degree," Chris ribbed.
"I'm just half a term away," Joey beamed. "And then perhaps you'll be calling me Officer Mitchell after I get into the police academy."
"Don't you smoke too much weed to get in?" Chris asked.
"Shut up," Joey chuckled as he reached the steps to exit the club. "Later."
"See ya," Chris and Wyatt called before the door shut. Wyatt's gaze landed on his brother. "What?"
"You're just surprisingly nonchalant about this situation with Bianca," he replied.
Chris sighed. "What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know. I was just expecting a little more emotion. You have a right to be angry or upset or sad…"
"Well, of course I am. But these things happen. It just comes with the job," Chris said. He ran a hand through his hair. "What good is it going to do to completely lose control? We have more important things to worry about. The faster I can take care of this the better. It doesn't have to be dramatic. I want it to be as painless as possible and then I can focus on…"
"Mom?" Wyatt finished his brother's sentence. Chris gave a sheepish nod. "She's going to be fine, Chris. You can't worry so much."
"She has stage four lymphoma, Wyatt," Chris said solemnly. "It's basically a nice way of saying she's dying."
"She's strong and she can still pull through…"
"You can be as optimistic as you want but I'm not in denial. I'm not going to waste time mourning Bianca's betrayal or stressing out about demons when mom needs us."
"She would want you to continue like things are normal."
"Well things aren't normal," Chris replied. He shook his head. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore Wy."
His brother gave a slow nod. "Okay," he sighed.
"Can you handle the restaurant today?" Chris asked.
"Consider it done," Wyatt replied. He managed a smile at his younger brother. "Try to relax, okay? I know it's unnatural for you but if you can find a way it will make this all a little easier."
"I'll do my best."
Lila paced back and forth, cellphone held to her ear, scowl on her face, tablet in hand. "No, we want the title guest spot. She has twelve minutes for the interview, not nine, and no questions about the undercover operation with the Department of Homeland Security in 2005. Also we expect to fly first class and…"
"Lila, honey, it's okay," Phoebe advised her daughter, but Lila paid her no attention. She sighed, giving the fan in front of her a smile. A line awaited her, full of mostly middle age women, vying for an autograph of her book. The small book signing was swelling to a larger size than she anticipated thanks to Lila's last minute marketing strategy. Her hand was cramping and her cheeks throbbed from taking pictures. In her first week on the job Lila was excelling as Phoebe's assistant. In fact, if it was at all possible, it seemed she was doing too well at the job.
"And we want a fruit basket in the room and croissants, not bagels. Fresh please," Lila demanded. "We'll be expecting you at JFK airport. Bye."
Phoebe swirled her name onto another book cover and handed it back before glancing back at her daughter. "That really wasn't necessary, sweetheart," she said through a smile.
"Mom, I'm your assistant. It's my job to make sure you get exactly what you want."
"But I don't need fresh croissants or…"
"You're a best-selling author," Lila reminded her. "Now smile."
"What? Oh," Phoebe forced a grin for the camera as a pair of fans posed next to her. "Thank you."
"You just let me worry about the details while you enjoy being a star. Or at least as much of a star as an author can be," Lila said.
Phoebe ignored Lila as another beaming fan approached the table. She offered Phoebe her book with excitement. "Hi there," Phoebe greeted.
"I just have to tell you that you're book inspired me to give it another chance with my husband," the woman confessed anxiously. "You are such an inspiration."
"I'm so happy to hear that. That's exactly what the book is about – not giving up on love," Phoebe smiled. "Now who I am I making this out to?"
Before the woman could answer, a deep, masculine voice echoed behind her. "Cole Turner."
Phoebe's mouth dropped in surprise. Lila instantly tensed prepared to pounce over the table and tackle the man who cheekily peered behind Phoebe's fan. "Ignore him," Phoebe advised.
"It's Suzy. You can make it out to Suzy," the woman said, feeling the tension suddenly falling around them. She scrawled her signature in a few fluid loops. The strong stench of the pen was beginning to give her a headache. Her heart raced as Cole waited for her to finish.
"There you go. Thank you," Phoebe smiled graciously. As soon as Suzy was out of sight her face went to stone. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just thought I'd say hello," Cole replied. He placed a copy of Phoebe's book on the table. "Really not as inspiring as everyone says it was. I found it a little cheesy actually…"
Lila's jaw clenched. She still remembered Cole as the man who ruined Gage's proposal. And though he let her go, Lila refused to fall prey to the deceptive demon. "Let me take care of him," she growled to her mother.
"No," Phoebe said, putting an arm out and holding her daughter back.
Cole smiled "She's a feisty one, isn't she?" he chuckled. "You know you don't have to be so hostile, Lila. I did let you go."
"After you kidnapped me!" she hissed.
"Cole…" Phoebe started, attempting to remain calm for the line of adoring fans waiting for her. "I don't appreciate these unexpected visits. What is this about?"
"I don't know how much good it will do but I thought I'd pass on a little information. The Source is being challenged for power," Cole told them.
"That's vague," Lila glared. "Thanks for nothing."
"You didn't teach them manners, did you?" Cole asked Phoebe.
"Who's challenging the Source?" Phoebe asked.
"The Triad."
"The Triad is still alive?" Lila asked in surprise. Phoebe was equally shocked and Cole smirked at his ability to provide intel.
"Yes and let's just say they're not the Source's biggest fan. They've enlisted the help of a few powerful demons to help them," he said.
"Like who?" Phoebe asked.
"You're looking at him," Cole winked.
Lila scoffed. "If you're trying to impress her, it's not working. She's already happy with my father…"
"Are you sure she's not Paige's daughter?" Cole asked Phoebe.
"Yes, I'm sure," Phoebe sighed. "Cole why would you go up against the Source? Why now?"
"I don't like him very much for starters," Cole said nonchalantly. "And he tried to kill my son."
"Jack? The idiot who almost go Melinda killed?"
"I agree he's not the brightest but that wasn't his fault," Cole replied. He gave Phoebe a grin. "Kind of ironic, don't you think? My son and your niece..."
"Hey, what's the hold up?" a woman called angrily from the front of the line. The rest of the group grumbled and booed as well.
"Sorry! This guy is crazy; you probably want to get security!" Lila yelled back.
"Thank you for that," Cole glared.
Lila smiled. "Wouldn't want you to get lost on your way out the door."
"Cole, I don't really know what you're trying to do, but thank you," Phoebe said. "Regardless, you should know I'm happy with Coop and I think it's best if we stay out of each other's lives."
"Right," Cole replied. Despite his attempt to remain unaffected he couldn't help the slight hint of forlornness in his voice. His blue eyes sank and though it dipped ever so subtly, he kept his cheeky smirk in an attempt to retain his façade. He cleared his throat. "I wasn't trying anything more than to suggest that perhaps your enemy's enemy could be your friend."
Before anymore could be said, bookstore security quickly came up to the table. "Sir, you're going to have to leave…"
"Of course, I was just finished," Cole told the timid security guard. He set his sapphire gaze on Phoebe one last time. "It was good to see you and congratulations on your book."
"Thank you," Phoebe managed gently.
"Lila, always a pleasure," he nodded. Lila kept her mouth in a tight line, arms folded across her chest. The pair watched as Cole was escorted out.
"That was bleak," Lila glared at his backside.
"Yeah," Phoebe whispered. Lila glanced down at her mother who remained quiet and still taken back. It wasn't the reaction she expected from her mother. It was clear Phoebe still had a soft spot for Cole Turner. Lila frowned and cleared her throat.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Fine," Phoebe answered, forcing a pitch of cheerfulness as a new fan approached. She quickly began signing the cover, doing her best to shake the longing that suddenly plagued her.
"Welcome home!"
Kate nearly cringed at her sister's enthusiasm. Sam anxiously pushed open the door to their apartment, nervously filling every beat of silence with chatter since picking her up from Cornerstone. Quietly Kate entered the living room, carrying her bags and giving a long exhale as the door closed behind them.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked.
"I'm fine," Kate replied. "It's just nice to be back."
"Oh, right," Sam nodded. She picked up her sister's bags and skirted off down the hall. "I haven't changed or touched anything in your room. Well, actually the people at the clinic made me go through your things to remove any contraband, I'm sorry, I felt uncomfortable about it but…"
"It's fine," Kate told her, following after her. She rolled her eyes as Sam placed her luggage on the bed. "I could have done that."
"It's okay, I got it," she replied. Sam turned around to face her sister. "Are you hungry? I bet your hungry from the ride back. I can make you a sandwich. I went to the store and tried to get some of your favorites…"
"Sam, I'm okay," Kate said firmly. She grabbed her sister by the shoulders, forcing her to stop talking. "I just got back from rehab, I'm not incapable of taking care of myself."
Sam swallowed hard and nodded. "I'm sorry, I just wanted it all to go smoothly."
"I appreciate it," Kate replied. She let go of her twin's shoulders and ran a hand through her chocolate hair. "If anything I just need a little space. This is all an adjustment. It will take a little time to get used to everything again."
"Well, I can give you space. Whatever you want," Sam insisted.
"And as much as I love it, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me. Treat me like you did before I went off the deep end," Kate requested.
Sam nodded enthusiastically. "I can do that too."
"Great," she muttered, still getting a sense of caution from her sister. She sighed. "Don't you have work or something?"
"I took the day off," Sam said nervously. She'd been so anxious and worried for Kate's return that she'd done everything in her power to make the transition perfect. She knew the first week would be fragile as her sister returned home from rehab, but her good intentions seemed to make things more tense than helpful. She awkwardly twiddled her thumbs.
"Right," Kate nodded. "Okay…"
"I can go out and run some errands if you want," Sam spat. She chewed on her lower lip.
"No, Sam, just go about your normal day, alright? I was going to go to a meeting…"
"An AA meeting?" Sam clarified.
"Yes an AA meeting."
"Have you been talking to your sponsor? I heard you need to talk with your sponsor if you…"
"Sam," Kate cut her off. Her sister fell silent.
"Sorry."
"You need to relax. You're turning into Chris," she chuckled. "Why don't you go find your manticore and spend your day off taking a break?
"But…"
"I'm going to go to the meeting, I'll feed myself, and I'll be sure to meet you at the manor for dinner and aunt Piper's."
Sam nodded. "Okay. But you'll call if you need anything or…"
"Yes," Kate cut her off. She gave her younger sister a comforting look and smiled. "We're going to be okay."
Sam sighed, releasing a tense breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in. So much fear and excitement swirled in her now that Kate was back that she could hardly stand it. But with the assurance of her older sister – assurance she hadn't had for months – she could allow herself a moment of peace. Kate was back and finally it seemed a part of her was too.
The office of Harvey & Roark architectural firm was in the heart of San Francisco. In many ways it seemed appropriate that one of the premier contracting companies was surrounded by some of the greatest skyscrapers and landmarks of the Bay Area. Owned by the affluent Harvey family of San Francisco, the firm was responsible for some of the city's most magnificent and noteworthy buildings. And for Lucy Halliwell, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.
"This is where our business development team works. They mostly handle accounts, new business, take our clients out for lunch – you get the idea…"
Lucy followed in a small pack of four other interns, weaving through the office under the guidance of a bored employee with thick spectacles. She kept her portfolio under her arm, curled auburn locks bouncing with each step. It was out of the ordinary but as she slipped on heels and a blouse early that morning her immersion into the professional world seemed complete. She was twenty-three years old but not until she stepped into the work place did she finally feel like an adult.
"And this is the drafting room. This is where you'll spend a majority of your time," their tour guide announced. He brought them to a wide open room, full of large tables and chairs, intense table lights, tubes of blueprints, and a wall of windows. The architects and designers in the room didn't even notice them as they hovered over their designs with pencils and rulers, strained in deep concentration. "As it was explained to you, you will be expected to not only clock in your designated internship hours, but work and complete your assigned projects until they're up to standard. In other words, say goodbye to your life outside of these walls."
A hard pit formed in Lucy's stomach. For the first time the prospect was hitting her that perhaps managing a career and life as a Charmed One was going to be a new sort of challenge.
"For every assignment that comes into the firm, you will be expected to design three drafts. The best one of those drafts will be stacked up against others in the firm," he explained dryly. "You will not only be in competition with fellow interns but our seasoned architects."
"Don't look so scared, red…"
Lucy's brow furrowed as she heard the deep, masculine voice whisper in her ear. She looked over her shoulder, glaring when she spotted a fellow intern behind her, sporting a cheeky smile. "Are you talking to me?"
"No, I'm talking to our tour guide, Mr. Leaping For Joy," he said.
"Well, first of all, my hair isn't red," she hissed. She folded her arms across her chest. "Secondly, why would I be scared?"
"It just sounds like it's going to be pretty stiff competition, red" he whispered.
"Well, I'm not one to talk smack on the first day but since you started it – I'm not worried about the competition, I'm just worried about what I'm going to do when I make you cry…"
"I look forward to it," he smiled. He straightened his silk tie and offered her a hand. "I'm Wilson McCleary."
"You have two last names," Lucy quipped.
"And what's your name red?"
"Lucille Halliwell," their tour guide read dully. "Wilson McCleary and Timothy Richmond, you'll be here in the drafting room. The rest of you will come with me to construction. That's all. Good luck…"
"Lucille, huh? Or is it Timothy?"
"Lucy," she told him as the trio of interns timidly entered the room.
"I think I'll call you red," Wilson decided.
"You three must be the aspiring architects," another man greeted them as they found themselves lost among the tables.
"That's us," Wilson said.
"Great. The interns sit at that table over there. You'll find all the supplies you'll need. We're in the middle of drafting a modern design for a two story restaurant. Also a client isn't happy with the redesign we did to his mall. I'll expect your blueprints tomorrow morning at ten."
"All of them?" Timothy stammered. "But you haven't told us anything."
"Six drafts, three for each project, tomorrow," their superior repeated. "It's time to put on your big kid pants boys – uh and girl – okay? Now get to work. You're wasting my time."
"Yes sir," the three of them said.
"Great," Timothy sighed, scrambling off toward their empty spots in the draft room. Wilson exchanged glances with Lucy.
"Good luck, red," he smiled.
"You'll be the one needing the luck, blondey," she replied.
Piper Halliwell could only listen to the constant, rhythmic tick of the clock. It was a steady metronome, soothing her as she gazed off, wrestling with the painful thoughts that burdened her. As the time passed she forgot where she was. She'd long ago sank into the cream colored walls, no longer aware of the mahogany desk in front of her or the authoritative voice droning on and on. She was confronted with the disturbing concept that she wasn't ready. Her children were grown but she still had so much to do. She still had so much she wanted to see. She was supposed to die old, Leo at her side, a house full of grandchildren and maybe even great grandchildren. And suddenly it seemed like those things wouldn't happen.
How much fight did she have left?
She'd already seen so much. Reflecting back on all the turmoil and excitement in her short lifetime would be enough for anyone – but it wasn't enough for her. She wasn't ready. She'd finally made it to the easy part. Her children were grown, her years as a Charmed One were over, and all that was left to do was smile at weddings and spoil grandchildren. It was unfair that those golden, easy years were about to be ripped away before she could even try to enjoy them.
It wasn't how she pictured it. For decades she'd been a powerful, formidable witch. Now she felt like nothing more than a tired, helpless human about to face the final, most terrifying stage of her mortality.
"Piper?" Leo said gently. It was the third time he'd tried to garner her attention and now he reached out, placing a hand on her forearm. "Piper, honey?"
She jerked out of her trance, clearing her throat and straightening in her seat. "Yeah," she managed.
"Ryan was just telling us about his suggested treatment plan," Laura told her aunt. A sad frown pulled on her mouth as she watched Piper in sympathy. The three of them – Piper, Leo, and Laura – sat in a row of cushioned chairs across from Piper's new oncologist, Dr. Ryan Lockhart. Laura had offered to accompany her aunt and uncle to the appointment. She wasn't just there to help them navigate through the medical jargon and give her own expert opinion, but she was there as an extra support.
"Right," Piper nodded, doing her best to stay grounded in the moment.
"I'm sorry, I know this is going fast and it can be overwhelming," Ryan apologized. The young oncologist, 35 years old, offered a sympathetic appearance. His eyes were kind and helpful. It was one of the reasons Laura insisted that Piper and Leo seek treatment through her colleague. Despite his youthful and cheery disposition he was also one of the most respected oncologists in the Bay Area.
Leo gave a slow nod and rubbed his thumb in circles on Piper's hand. "Dr. Lockhart thinks it would be best to schedule you for surgery to remove some of the lymph nodes affected by the cancer," he told her.
"A lobectomy," Ryan clarified. He referenced the x-rays on the table in front of them. "Because the cancer has spread to your lungs, I think our best option is to proceed with a thoracotomy. We will remove one of the lobs of your lung that contains the cancer and some of the tissue that has been affected."
"Isn't surgery used for early stages of cancer?" Leo asked. "Piper's stage IV…"
Ryan nodded. "In many cases radiation would be suggested," he replied. "But I think because we're so far along, Piper's best chance is aggressive treatment. I know there are a lot of doctors who would disagree with me but she's been healthy up to this point. I want to cut off this cancer before it can damage her lungs any further…"
"And what about the lymphoma?" Laura asked.
"That will be treated with radiation afterward along with chemotherapy," Ryan answered. He shifted his stare to Piper's. "This isn't going to be an easy process. But if I can infer anything about you from what Laura's told me, it's that you're not one to give up because things are hard."
Pipers managed a nod in confirmation. "I just feel as though I've already lost," she confessed softly.
"The battle has only started," Ryan told her, managing an air of confidence. "And I don't lose."
Leo remained skeptical of the doctor's outlook. For starters he was too young. His bright eyes, shiny smile, and neat raven hair didn't scream oncologist. He wore a striped blue and orange tie against an equally bright blue shirt. He looked like a zealous catalogue model.
"What's the treatment timeline?" Laura spoke up. She could see her uncle's uneasiness as Piper sat between them.
"Surgery next week. Then we'll give you a week to recover before starting the chemotherapy," Ryan said. "We'll see what happens from there."
"And this treatment has worked before? You've treated stage IV lymphoma? What's your survival rate?" Leo grilled him.
"5 year survival rate of 82%" Ryan answered. "10 year is 74%."
"That's very impressive," Laura told her aunt and uncle.
"I know I may not seem the part of your typical oncologist. But I am successful and I will be with you every step of the way. It's an aggressive treatment but this is exactly how I would advise my own mother," Ryan said. He gave the trio a sad smile and closed the file in front of him. "But none of this really matters. What matters is that you trust me, that you're comfortable with this treatment plan, and that you're on board to fight this thing."
Piper pulled in a shaky breath as three pairs of eyes settled on her. It was moving too fast. She strained to hear the metronome of the clock again. Nothing could save her from reality. Nothing could save her from her fate. Nothing could ensure she would live to see a year from now. But suddenly she realized that was always the case.
She'd lost a mother, grandmother, and two sisters. She'd raised beautiful children, went to bed every night with a loving husband, and now headed a prospering family. It seemed every evil and hardship of her past had been balanced with some good and pure. And it was only because she never gave up the fight for the life she wanted. In many ways, it was the painful, inevitable cycle of her existence. Now after years of fighting evil, of achieving the impossible, it seemed like a waste to give up. There was too much to lose and Piper refused to roll over.
She would suit up for one more fight.
"I'm ready," she said.
Tried for a quick update on this one! I honestly can't believe I'm actually starting an eighth episode! I'm still working out some ideas but all I can say is this has been so much fun to write and create. It's kind of cool to go back to the earlier chapters and not just see how my writing has improved in certain aspects but how much the characters have changed and developed - and still are! Thanks for going on this journey with me and reading. It's always so flattering to get reviews and see followers. I hope to continue to see what you all think and like. It's definitely an inspiration to know that people are reading and that they take the time to write me a note! As always thank you! ~ Sammy
Also I was getting a little tired of the flow of the episodes, so I tried something a little different in the beginning of this one. Tell me what you think of the flashforward concept because I'll be trying to start the other chapters of this episode with it as well!