"How are we feeling?" Dr. Belansky asked, pushing open the door to the hospital room. Shawn and Juliet had arrived an hour ago. She was already changed into the hospital gown and they had just met with the anesthesiologist to make sure that all of the meds were correct. She was back on the tubes, with an IV sticking out of her port and one running into the back of her hand with tape all the way around it, keeping it in place.

"Anxious to be done with this?" Juliet offered. Shawn was sitting next to her, warming her unwrapped hand in both of his. Based on how clammy his hands felt on hers, she was guessing that he felt pretty similar.

"That's totally normal. Don't worry. It'll be over before you know it. Besides, you get the easy part- all you have to do is take a nap and it'll be over," Dr. Belansky said.

They were interrupted by another knock at the door.

"Hello," a young man with dirty blonde hair came into the room. "Are you Ms. O'Hara?"

"That would be me," she responded, looking sideways at the man.

"My name is Dr. Harris. I will be your surgeon today. How are we feeling?"

"Good," Juliet said, sticking out her hand to shake his.

"Oh my gosh, your surgeon is Doogie Howser," she heard Shawn whisper under his breath, a hint of childlike excitement running though his voice.

"Shhh," she whispered back to him, squeezing his hand to shut him up.

"It's okay," Dr. Harris said, extending his hand to Shawn. "I get that a lot. I'll have you know that despite my vertical disadvantage, I am a full-grown man." He winked at Shawn.

"Dr. Harris is the best. He does this all the time and he does a wonderful job," Dr. Belansky said. "He and his team will take great care of you, Juliet."

"Shall we get you marked up and ready to go?"

"I guess so?" Juliet said, unsure of what he meant.

"I'll see you after you're finished," Dr. Belansky said, excusing herself.

"We just need to make some marks on your breasts, so the surgical team knows where to cut."

Juliet felt her heart flutter at the last word, but she took a deep breath and said, "Let's do this."

"Is he okay to stay?" Dr. Harris said, nodding towards Shawn.

"It's okay with me. Are you okay to stay, Shawn?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

"Alright then, and you are having a double mastectomy, correct?" Dr. Harris asked.

"Yes. That is correct."

He pulled out a green pen as Juliet readjusted her gown to expose her chest. The felt pen tickled her skin and sent a shiver down her spine.

This is it.

After tipping his head back and forth, and adjusting a couple of the lines, he said, "Alright. You're good to go. I'm going to go down to the operating room and I will see you soon."

He walked out.

This is it.

A young man and woman came into the room as the surgeon walked out.

"Hello, I'm Andy, and this is Nikki," the man said. "We're here to take you down to surgery."

Juliet's heart stopped and fluttered, sending electricity all the way out her fingertips and toes. She felt Shawn's grip grow tighter.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Let's do this," Juliet repeated, letting a weak smile cover her face this time.

Andy and Nikki walked over to the bed.

"She should be done in about two to three hours," Nikki said to Shawn.

He nodded, but he couldn't really hear them. He stood up and leaned over to Juliet.

"You can do this," he said, kissing her on top of the head.

"I love you," she said, grabbing his face with her unattached hand and kissing him.

"I love you more," he said back, giving her two more quick kisses.

He stood up and slowly let her face fall out of her grasp. "I'll see you when you're done," he called behind her as they pushed the bed down the hall. He caught a glimpse of her fingertips waving over the top of the bedframe as they turned the corner.

"How's she doing?" Gus asked, walking into the waiting room. Shawn, Henry, and Juliet's parents were all spread out on the couches, staring mindlessly at their phones, the three-year-old magazines on the tables, the little waiting room TV bolted to the corner of the room- anything that might pass the time.

"No news," Shawn responded, checking his watch. It had been two and a half hours.

"No news is good news," Gus replied, sitting down next to Shawn and handing him a bag with some snacks in it. "I thought you could use a little pick-me-up."

Shawn looked through the bag. "Thanks. But I'm not hungry right now."

The door leading to the operating room opened. Shawn looked up and saw Juliet's surgeon standing at the door with his scrubs cap in his hand.

"Juliet O'Hara?"

They all stood up. Shawn felt his heart beating out of his chest. He was sure Gus could hear it just standing next to him.

"She's out of surgery and in the recovery room."

They followed Dr. Harris down the hall and into the room. She was still fast asleep on the bed when they walked in. There were pillows tucked under her arms and next to her legs, which were wrapped in bulky white plastic with cords connected to them. She had an oxygen tube laced under her nose and around her ears. On either side of her, snaking out of the sides of her gown, clear rubber containers that looked like mini grenades were perched, with bright red liquid slowly dripping into them.

"The surgery went well," Dr. Harris said to the group. "We have her on oxygen right now because she was low after surgery, but she should be waking up soon. Please let me know if you have any questions, but for now, she just needs some rest."

"Thank you, Doctor," Shawn said, shaking his hand.

He nodded and left them all alone in the room.

They all gathered around her, watching her breathe.

Shawn was so scared, yet so calm at the same time. She looked horrible, but her chest was moving. It was done and out of her. She was okay now.

Juliet took a deep breath in, the blinked her eyes awake.

"Hello?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Oh, thank god," Juliet's mom said up to the sky, then leaned in and kissed Juliet's forehead. "Good morning, Baby. How do you feel?"

Juliet looked around, taking in everyone looking at her.

"I feel good," she slurred, still a little loopy from the anesthesia, smiling and blinking her eyes some more to adjust to the light. "Hey, you." She turned to where Shawn was standing, still not speaking, just taking her in.

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm so happy you're okay," he said, finally unsticking his feet from the floor and moving to wrap his hands around her cheeks and kiss her on the head.

"You know that's right." Gus said, patting Shawn on the back.

"Amen," Lloyd called from the background.

A few hours later, the room was quiet. Gus and Henry had gone back to work, while Maryanne, Frank, and Lloyd had run out to grab some things from the house. Nurses had to come in every half hour or so to make sure she was still breathing and pinch her fingers to make sure that her heart was still pumping, but for the most part, it finally felt calm.

Shawn sat on the couch on the side of the room, watching Juliet sleep. Her eyes would twitch every so often, but she seemed to be resting peacefully.

There was a soft knock at the door. Shawn looked up to see Lassiter hanging by the door, not sure if he could come in.

Shawn nodded and stood up to walk past him out of the room.

Lassiter hovered by the door for a minute, taking it all in. He watched red liquid drip into the plastic containers at her sides. He watched the white plastic around her legs click and squeeze every couple of seconds. But most importantly, he watched her chest smoothly rise and fall.

She's okay. She's breathing, and she's okay.

It took him a second to realize that he had been holding his breath since he knocked on the door. Inhaling in sharply, he walked up to the side of her bed and quietly began talking.

"You know, these last couple of months have kind of sucked," he whispered to the air. "I know that you have had people taking care of you, but I kind of feel like I left you to fight for yourself." He breathed in. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you better. You of all people. You have never left me out there. Not for one day. We have spent six long years putting our lives in each other's hands. I've watched you fight. I've watched you almost die- "

"But you didn't let me," a dry voice said.

Lassiter looked down. Juliet eyes were open, and she was looking up at him with a calm smile on her face.

"That's a two-way street. I never could have gotten as far as I have without you. You have been so much more than a partner. You're my confidant. You've shown me unmeasurable patience. And loyalty."

He took a deep breath again and look into his partner's eyes. They were starting to get a little red and wet around the edges. He could feel his own eyes start to sting as well.

"You are very important to me, Juliet. And I don't always do a really great job of letting you know that. So I'm telling you now."

Juliet stretched her hand out to grab his hand, which was hanging next to the bed.

"You inspire me, partner. Always have. You have believed in me since day one. You have given me courage and strength and taught me accountability and how to ration my ammo in the event of a nuclear holocaust."

He let out a small laugh.

"But more importantly, you have taught me how to fight and be strong and never give up. No matter what. You might not have been there for me the way that you would have wanted to be for the last few months, but you have absolutely helped me, more than you will ever know. Carlton, you are so important to me, and I am so grateful that I have you in my life. I don't know where I would be without you."

Lassiter leaned over and gave Juliet a loose hug from her position on the bed.

"I'm going to be okay," she whispered into his ear. "And I'm going to be back fighting the scum with you before you know it."

Juliet sighed as Lassiter straightened back up. Everything was okay. She was okay. And Shawn, and Lassiter, and her family. They were all there, together, for her. She knew that she had a long road ahead of her. She knew that she wasn't done fighting, and never truly would be. But she was breathing. And even if it hurt today, it would hurt a little bit less tomorrow. And soon it would go away.

One day this day would just be a memory. One day, every pill she had to take or meal she couldn't keep down or strange liquid that was poured into her veins would all run together and be nothing more than a distant memory that pushed her to the next stage of her life.

As for today, breathing- living- was enough.