A/N: See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer. I also want to warn you all that the ride is going to get bumpy with this story once again, but hang in there with me and don't give up. I assure you that I will make it worth it.

Chapter Summary: Joy Jefferson comes down with what appears to be a stubborn case of the flu.

Chapter 8: Every Second

The next decade of the Jeffersons' lives was a true whirlwind, and there was never a dull moment. Raising three children was big a challenge for George and especially for stay-at-home mom Louise, but Florence was a very big help to them both, and so was Olivia. There was never a more doting grandmother than Olivia, and she absolutely adored watching her three young grandchildren grow up before her eyes. But sadly, the Jefferson children weren't able to enjoy their doting grandmother forever. On the last day of November in 1988, almost a month before Joy's tenth birthday, Olivia Jefferson died in her sleep at the age of eighty-seven. Naturally, they were all heartbroken, and none more so than George, but George knew better than anyone that his mother had lived a full life, and he and Louise and the children were grateful that she passed comfortably in her sleep and didn't suffer.

During the next three years after Olivia's death, things remained happy and lively in the Jefferson household as Will, Hannah, and Joy continued to grow. Their home was filled with nothing but life, although there were a couple of times when poor Louise sure thought she was going to die from anxiety over the antics of her very rambunctious twins. Although Will and Hannah were kindhearted, loving kids, they were also terribly mischievous like their father, and they had a real knack for getting themselves into trouble. They were very extroverted and adventurous, constantly out and about wreaking havoc, and there had actually been a couple of times when their stunts landed them both in the hospital. Once when they were thirteen, a bully at school had started picking on Hannah, and the instant Will saw it, he ran up to the bully and punched him and knocked him to the ground without a second thought. Naturally, that started a big fight, and when the bully got up and started hitting Will, Hannah got into the act and started punching him as well. The fight ended with the bully sustaining a concussion and many bruises while Will actually ended up with a broken arm and Hannah with a broken rib. The next year, shortly after they turned fourteen, they were out with their family at the park one Saturday, and even though it was against the park rules, Will and Hannah both decided to climb a tree together. A few minutes later, Will fell out of the tree. Worried about her brother, Hannah immediately jumped out of the tree to make sure he was alright. Unfortunately, Will knocked himself unconscious and gave himself a concussion while Hannah landed on her right shoulder and dislocated it. Just like the previous year when the twins had been hospitalized, Louise was worried to death, but the ordeal was actually much harder on her than it was on George and Will and Hannah. It worried George too to see his children in the hospital, of course, but it didn't get to him as badly as it did Louise because they reminded him so much of himself when he was their age. George had definitely had more than his share of bumps and bruises as a kid, and like Will and Hannah, he too had been very resilient – and very hardheaded. And he knew his two oldest children were very much like him. George was right, of course. The twins were very resilient like their father, and even though their jump out of the tree had landed them in the hospital again, they recovered from their injuries very quickly, and hardly any time passed before they were back to their normal troublemaking selves.

Joy, however, was the polar opposite of her troublemaking older siblings. While Will and Hannah were always getting into trouble like the little devils that they were, Joy almost never got into trouble, and she was in fact anxious to please her parents. Louise frequently joked that Will and Hannah were her little devils while Joy was her little angel, but it was in fact quite true. Will and Hannah were the ones who worried their mother while Joy never (purposefully) gave Louise a reason to worry. Where Will and Hannah were rambunctious and mischievous, Joy was calm and relaxed. Where Will and Hannah were disobedient, Joy was obedient. Where Will and Hannah were careless in their studies, Joy was diligent. It was always a challenge for Louise to get Will and Hannah to sit still long enough to do their homework when they came home from school, but she never had that problem with Joy. Joy was an avid reader, and she absolutely loved books, and although she didn't like school any more than the next kid, her love of reading helped make her a very focused student. And her great sense of focus as a student probably explained why she typically brought home much better report cards than her older siblings did.

But even though Joy was such a good child, she deeply worried Louise and George in a different way than Will and Hannah did. All throughout her childhood, Joy frequently suffered from colds and the flu, and she even suffered from several bouts of pneumonia. At age five, Joy was diagnosed with asthma, and there had been a couple of times when Joy suffered from an asthma attack severe enough to endanger her life. George barely batted an eye whenever Will and Hannah got their usual scratches and scrapes and bruises, but witnessing his youngest child suffering an asthma attack, fighting to get enough air into her lungs, scared the living daylights out of him. And there were no words in the English language to describe how badly it terrified Louise. From the first moment Louise looked into Joy's precious little face when she was born, pleading to Louise for help to take her first breath of air, a powerful connection between the two had been established. Even though the doctors had assured Louise when Joy was born that she was fine, there had always been a feeling way deep down inside her that told her that Joy was more fragile than her siblings; that Joy needed her to be far more vigilant and protective of her than she already was of Will and Hannah. And Louise always listened to what her instincts told her, and she was extremely protective of her youngest child. But no matter how fiercely protective Louise always was of Joy, she couldn't protect her baby from everything, even though she wanted to so badly.

About a month after Joy turned thirteen, she suddenly got very sick. She was constantly achy and exhausted and running a fever, and Louise and George were certain that she'd come down with the flu once again. But two weeks passed and Joy just simply did not improve, so naturally, her parents took her to see their family physician, Dr. Bates. Dr. Bates assured the Jeffersons that their daughter simply had a very stubborn case of the flu, and he told them to keep her in bed and give her plenty of fluids, and he told them to bring her back if her condition did not improve within a week. As expected, the very worried parents watched over their youngest child like a couple of hawks during the next week, and when she didn't show any signs of improvement, they took her back to the doctor. He examined her once again, and he immediately noticed that her lymph nodes were still enlarged. He also saw that there was a small bruise on her neck when examining her lymph nodes, and he asked her about it, and Joy and Louise told him then about all the bruises that had begun appearing all over her body weeks ago for no apparent reason. (Louise had tried to bring up the issue the last time they were in his office, but he'd been very rushed that day and he really didn't give her the chance to talk about everything that was concerning her about her daughter.) After talking with them about the bruises, he asked if Joy bled easily, and Joy admitted that whenever she shaved her legs and got a cut, the bleeding would be very bad and it would take forever to stop. He then had his nurse draw some blood and ran a number of blood tests before sending them home and assuring them that he would call them the next day as soon as he had the results. And when he did call the Jeffersons' apartment the next morning and spoke to George, he told him that he wanted him and Louise to come by his office as soon as they could so he could discuss the results of their daughter's blood tests with them.

As George and Louise sat in two black leather chairs across a big mahogany desk from Dr. Bates, a black, gray-haired, heavyset man in his sixties, he could clearly tell that the parents were terrified, and he really felt bad for them. This was the part of his job he hated the most: giving his patients and their families bad news.

"What's going on, doctor? What's wrong with our little girl?" asked Louise as she visibly fought off tears. "I know you wouldn't have told us to come in here if everything was alright," she added, and then she reached out and took hold of her husband's hand.

"Unfortunately, you're quite right. I wouldn't have called you two in here if it weren't serious," said Dr. Bates, confirming their worst suspicions as their heart rates jumped to about three hundred.

"What is it, Dr. Bates? What's wrong with our baby?" asked George as he, too, struggled not to break down crying.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson, in my professional medical opinion, I believe that your daughter has leukemia."

"Leukemia?!" Louise cried out.

"You're telling us that our daughter has cancer?" asked George, unable to believe his ears.

"Based on Joy's bloodwork, yes, I believe she has cancer of the blood, a.k.a. leukemia. In order to be completely certain of the diagnosis, though, I'm going to have to have Joy admitted into the East Manhattan Children's Hospital for further tests, particularly a bone marrow biopsy. The results will tell us precisely what kind of leukemia she has so that we'll know how best to treat it. And I've called in my colleague, Dr. Jill Everton, to take over Joy's care. She's a pediatric oncologist at the East Manhattan Children's Hospital. She specializes in treating children with leukemia. She's one of the best. One of the very best."

George and Louise couldn't say a word now. All they could do in those horrifying moments was just cling to each other and cry. George hated breaking down and crying, particularly in front of others, but now, he was unashamed of his tears and he made no effort to hide them. And Dr. Bates, a parent himself, was very understanding, and he just sat there with the Jeffersons for a long time in silence, letting them have the good cry that they needed.

When they settled down a bit, Dr. Bates told them, "Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson, I know that the diagnosis of leukemia is terrifying for any parent. I know that this is every parent's worst nightmare. And I know that every time you hear the word 'leukemia' or the word 'cancer,' you automatically think death. But this is not the 1950s or the 1960s. Cancer is not the automatic death sentence that it was back then. This is 1992, and more people than ever are surviving cancer. More children than ever are surviving cancer. And they're not just surviving cancer. They're beating it and they're thriving after it. A leukemia diagnosis is not the end of the world, and it is not the automatic end of Joy's life. Believe me."

George nodded then, and he told Louise, "He's right, Weezy. He's right. There's more people beatin' cancer now than ever before. Joy's gonna be fine. She's gonna be just fine. We're gonna take care of her. We're gonna get her through this. You hear me?"

Louise nodded, and in the next few moments, she grabbed some tissues from the box of tissues on the doctor's desk and she wiped her eyes. "You're right, George," she told him then. "You're right. We'll be by her side every second."

"Every second," George agreed, and again, they reached out and started clinging to one another. George held Louise tightly and rocked her, and he whispered in her, "She's gonna be alright. She's gonna be alright. We're gonna be there for her every second like you said. We're gonna get her through this. She's gonna be alright."

After having a second cry, George and Louise grabbed some more tissues off the doctor's desk and dried their eyes somewhat.

"This is hard, George," said Louise a few moments later. "This is so hard."

"I know it is, sweetheart," George said gently. "I know it is. You're right. This is very hard."

"But no matter how hard it is, you and I are the parents. We're the adults. We can't go home to Joy all tearful and crying like this. It's our job to be the strong ones so she can lean on us."

"You're right, Weezy. We gotta pull it together," George concurred, and over the next minute or so, he and Louise dried their eyes completely and regained their composure.

"You should go home and pack some things for your daughter's hospital stay," Dr. Bates advised them. "I can't say how long she'll need to be hospitalized. It all depends on the results of the bone marrow biopsy and the other tests. I had my receptionist call the children's hospital and make the arrangements. They're expecting Joy there at one o'clock this afternoon. Dr. Everton will probably begin running all the necessary tests on Joy sometime tomorrow."

George and Louise rose from their seats then, and so did Dr. Bates, and George shook hands with him and said, "Thank you, Dr. Bates."

"Don't mention it, Mr. Jefferson. I'm just so very sorry I couldn't have given you both better news," Dr. Bates told George, and George responded with a sad nod. Then he and Louise turned around and quietly walked out of the doctor's office.

It was a quarter 'til eleven when George and Louise returned to their apartment, and the instant Florence saw their faces, her heartrate skyrocketed just as theirs had at the doctor's office because she knew beyond a doubt that the news about Joy was bad.

Florence then got up from the couch, looked George and Louise in the eye, and asked, "What did the doctor say? It's bad news, ain't it?"

George nodded and replied, "It's bad, Florence. It's very bad. Dr. Bates says that Joy has leukemia."

The instant those words left George's mouth, Florence broke down and started crying, and soon, all three of them were locked in a group hug, just holding each other and crying.

When their long embrace ended and they finally began regaining their composure, Florence told them, "I knew it was gonna be bad. I knew it. I knew it was gonna be somethin' like this when the doctor wouldn't tell y'all the diagnosis over the phone. Doctors are always like that. They never give you bad news over the telephone."

"How was she after we left, Florence?" asked Louise. "Were you able to get her to eat any of her breakfast?"

"She could only eat a couple of bites and then she insisted she was too full to eat anymore. I'm so worried, Ms. Jefferson. Joy's been so weak, especially over the past week, and she just keeps gettin' worse and worse."

"It's a good thing she's going into the hospital this afternoon," Louise told her. "We've all been doing our best to get her to eat and drink, but it seems that every day that goes by, she loses more of her appetite, and I'm worried that she hasn't been getting all the fluids she needs. Nobody likes hospitals, but at least when Joy's in the hospital, she'll probably be hooked up to an I.V. and be getting plenty of fluids."

"That's a good point, Weez," said George. "Like you said, nobody likes hospitals, but it's a good thing we're takin' Joy to the hospital today because that's the best place for her to be right now."

"You're right," Louise agreed. Then several long moments later, she locked eyes with George and asked him, "Are you ready for us to go tell Joy now?"

George shook his head and replied, "No, I ain't ready. I ain't never gonna be ready. But nobody ever is ready to go to their baby and tell her that she has leukemia. But it's somethin' we gotta do whether we feel ready to do it or not."

"Mr. Jefferson, do you want me to go in there with you and Ms. Jefferson?" asked Florence, and after a short pause, he nodded.

"You've been a member of this family for years, Florence. You're so much a member of the family that the kids always call you 'Aunt Florence.' And as far as we're concerned, you really are their aunt. If you wanna be there with me and Weezy to help us tell her everything, then you should be there."

"Thank you, Mr. Jefferson," said Florence, and again, George nodded. Then he, Louise, and Florence went to the girls' bedroom together to talk to Joy. Even though they certainly didn't feel ready for it, they knew it was something they had to do, and they were so grateful that they had each other now. They were so grateful they didn't have to do this alone.

When George and Louise first brought their surprise Christmas baby home from the hospital over thirteen years ago, they kept her in a bassinet close to their bed for the first six months of her life. George then got Mr. Whittendale to agree to allow him to have his apartment renovated to accommodate the newest unexpected addition to his family. The Jeffersons' apartment originally only had three bedrooms. George and Louise had the master bedroom, of course, and the two remaining bedrooms were of equal size. One of them had been Lionel's, naturally, and the other had been a spare guest room where George's mother sometimes stayed when she spent the night. When Louise had been pregnant with Will and Hannah, they converted the guest room into a nursery for them. At the time, it had seemed sacrilege to them to touch anything in Lionel's bedroom. But then when Louise gave birth and they learned that it was definitely twins as they had suspected, they realized they needed all the help they could get, so they asked Florence to move in and be their live-in maid and nanny. And even though it was difficult for them, they took all of Lionel's things out of his room so that Florence could have it. And when Joy was six months old and was getting too big for her bassinet, George and Louise knew they had to have her start sleeping in her own crib in her own nursery, so with their landlord's approval, they had a fourth bedroom built in their apartment. They already had a walk-in closet in their living room, but they also had another walk-in closet nearby the master bedroom that was much bigger – big enough to fit some bedroom furniture into, in fact – so it was converted into a small bedroom. For the earliest years of Joy's life, it served as her own nursery. Then when the children got big enough to start sleeping in their own beds, the bedroom that had been a nursery for Will and Hannah was redecorated and turned into a bedroom for both Hannah and Joy, and Joy's former nursery was transformed into a bedroom for Will. Today, Hannah's and Joy's bedroom had lavender colored walls that were filled with family pictures and posters and a couple of paintings, and of course, there were two single beds on either side of the room, and there was a vanity mirror and chair in front of Hannah's bed and a lovely Queen Anne desk and chair in front of Joy's bed. There was a small closet in their room as well that was filled to the brim with all their clothes. The girls' bedroom was usually full of life and joy, but now, it was a room George, Louise, and Florence truly dreaded entering.

George softly knocked on his daughters' bedroom door and slowly opened it. The lights were turned off, and Joy was sound asleep.

"Joy?" George whispered. "Joy, sweetheart, are you awake?" he asked in a slightly louder tone, but Joy didn't respond.

"She's exhausted," said Louise.

In the next moment, the three of them walked inside, and Louise sat down on one side of Joy's bed while George sat down on the other side. The nightstand by Joy's bed was big enough to accommodate her nebulizer and all her asthma medication, and George carefully reached over everything to turn on Joy's small lamp. Louise then lovingly kissed her daughter's forehead and softly said, "Joy? Joy, baby, we need you to wake up."

Joy then groaned and opened her eyes, and after several long moments, she finally began to wake up completely, and she slowly sat up in bed.

"Hey, guys," she said sleepily, and again, Louise kissed her forehead.

"Hey there, princess. How are you feelin', little one?" George lovingly whispered, which brought a weak smile to Joy's face. George always called both his daughters 'princess,' but 'little one' was a nickname reserved only for Joy since she was the baby of the family, and it was a nickname that always brought a smile to her face no matter how bad she felt.

"You want me to be one hundred percent honest, or you want me to sugarcoat it?"

"You know you ain't never gotta sugarcoat anything with us, little one," George assured her.

"That's right," Louise agreed.

"Just tell us the truth. Tell us like it is," George told her.

"Okay. This is literally the cruddiest I've ever felt in my whole life. Even my worst asthma attacks were over after a few minutes. But this stupid flu just drags on and on and on and it never gets better, and I'm so sick of it."

George and Louise locked eyes with each other in that moment and tears started coming to Louise's eyes. George, visibly struggling to hold back his tears, told Joy, "Baby, it's not the flu. Earlier this mornin', Dr. Bates called your mom and me and told us that he wanted us to come down to his office right away to discuss the results of your blood tests. Right now, you're a very sick little girl, and you're gonna have to be in the hospital for a while because the doctors need to run more tests."

"I'm going to have to be in the hospital for more tests? Why? Daddy, you're scaring me."

The instant Joy said that, tears came to Florence's eyes and she had to look away from Joy for several moments to regain her composure. Louise, on the other hand, wiped all the tears from her eyes and fought with every ounce of her emotional strength to keep from giving into the urge to start crying again. Her baby girl needed her now more than ever and Louise knew it, and it was that that kept her from breaking down into sobs. And it was the same for George, who also now stubbornly refused to give into the urge to cry.

"I ain't tryin' to scare you, little one. But I've gotta be honest with you. Like I said, you're a very sick little girl. This is very serious. Dr. Bates says that…he says that you have leukemia."

"Leukemia?!" Joy cried out.

"Yeah, baby," said George. "Dr. Bates says that you've got leukemia. He's admittin' you into the children's hospital here on the East Side. A doctor named Dr. Everton is gonna be takin' care of you now. She specializes in treatin' kids with leukemia. You're gonna have to have some tests done so that we know what particular kind of leukemia you have and how best to treat it."

"Am I going to have to have chemotherapy?"

"We don't know that yet, baby," Louise said gently. "But I think it is a possibility."

It was in that moment that Joy could no longer stop herself from crying, and she just leaned over into her mother's embrace and allowed herself to cry. Louise held her close and rocked her and cried with her and kissed the top of her head over and over again, and George then wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter and cried with them as well. It wasn't long after that that Florence also joined in the group hug and cried with the people she loved the most.

When the group hug finally ended several minutes later, Joy admitted, "Mama, Daddy, I'm scared. I'm really scared. I don't want to be bald and throwing up all the time. And I don't want to die."

"We're never, ever gonna let that happen, little one," George whispered through his tears.

"I know how scary this is, baby," said Louise. "Your daddy and I are just as scared as you are. But we promise you that no matter what happens, we are going to be right there by your side every second. We're going to be right there with you and we're going to take care of you. Every second. You hear me?"

"Every second?"

"Every second, baby," George told her. "Every second. We're gonna be right there with you every second through this whole thing. We're gonna get you through this."

"The good Lord's gonna get all of us through this," said Florence. "He's taken care of us all these years. He ain't gonna abandon us now."

"Thank you for reminding us of that, Florence," said Louise.

"Should I get up and start packing for the hospital now?" asked Joy.

"Don't you worry about that, darling. I'll pack everything you need for you," Florence told her.

"Thanks, Aunt Florence."

"You're so sweet," said Florence. "Mr. Jefferson, Ms. Jefferson, can y'all let me in there for a bit? I need to have a good cuddle with my little angel, here."

"Of course, Florence," said Louise as she and George moved and made room for Florence. And Florence held Joy and loved on her for the longest time. Louise and George then moved in closer and also held onto their daughter and loved on her for a good long while.

A few minutes later, Louise and Florence made some lunch for Joy and got her to take a few bites of it, and right after that, they packed a suitcase for her while George called Ralph and told him to have a cab waiting for them downstairs to take them to the children's hospital. Louise and Florence then helped Joy get dressed, and very soon after they came out into the living room, Ralph rang the doorbell and George answered.

"The cab's here, sir," Ralph told him.

"Thanks, Ralph."

"You mentioned that you were going to the children's hospital. Is everything alright, sir?" Ralph asked, and he was genuinely concerned. He was greedy and irritating and he had no qualms about trying to hustle as much money as he could out of all the tenants and gossiping about them behind their backs, but underneath all of that, he actually did have a side to him that was human. He really did feel terrible for the Jeffersons when they lost Lionel so many years ago, and the thought of something happening to another one of their children now really did break his heart.

"No, Ralph. Everything is not alright," George told him solemnly, and it was then that Ralph really began to worry about the people who truly were his favorite tenants.

"Florence, will you stay here and fix something for Will and Hannah if they want to eat when they get home from school?" asked Louise.

"Of course I will, Ms. Jefferson."

"We won't be here when they get home, so we'll need you to tell them everything for us," said Louise.

"Don't worry about anything, Ms. Jefferson. I'll take care of everything," Florence assured her.

"We'll call you from the hospital and give you an update in a little while," Louise told her.

"I'll be right here waitin' by the phone," said Florence.

"Ralph, will you get Joy's suitcase for us?" George asked. "I've got somethin' very precious that I have to carry."

"Of course, sir," Ralph responded, and right after he picked up Joy's suitcase, George picked up Joy. George knew how weak and exhausted she was and he knew it was difficult for her to stand and walk now, so he lovingly carried his little girl downstairs, Louise and Ralph walking alongside them.

Once they came outside to the cab that was waiting for them, Louise opened the door and got in first and scooted over to the other side of the back seat, and then George carefully set Joy down and she got into the cab and scooted over closer to her mother. George then reached inside his pocket to pull out his wallet and tip Ralph, but Ralph put his hand on George's shoulder to stop him.

"Don't worry about that, sir. It's on me. You just get your little girl to the hospital. Now."

Stunned, George simply said, "Thanks, Ralph."

Ralph then handed him his daughter's suitcase and George got in the cab, and Ralph closed the door for him. And as the cab drove away, Ralph Hart did something he hadn't done in many years. He prayed. He fervently prayed for his favorite tenants. For his friends.