A/N: Here's the next chapter, which will cover the emotions of two of the other kids, with a slight twist at the end. Hope you enjoy, please read and review!

Chapter 13: Be What She Needs (Late March)

A few days had passed since Donna's lunch with the Seaborns. She had given a little more thought to what Connor had told her about Matty and thought about confronting her eldest son, but quickly thought better of it. Matty was quiet, less open about his feelings. If pushed, he would withdraw further into his head. It was better to let the teenager come to her. But that wouldn't stop her from checking in.

"Hi, honey." She said, leaning against the doorway of Matt's bedroom.

Matty looked up from where he was doing his English homework. "Hey, Mom."

"What are you working on?"

"I'm doing my reading for English." He said, holding up the play A Raisin In The Sun.

"That's a good play," Donna commented as she sat on his bed. "Can we talk for a second?"

"Why? What's going on? Is something wrong?" Matty spouted off phrases in rapid succession. He had inherited his father's ability to jump to the worst-case scenario.

"No, honey, nothing's wrong." She reassured him, and he began to visibly relax. "I just wanted to make sure you were doing OK."

Matty shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?" Donna asked, her face melting into confusion. She knew her 14-year-old son like the back of her hand-he was definitely holding back.

But Matty just nodded. "Yeah." He turned back to his book. "Can I get back to my homework, please?"

Donna nodded. "Sure."

But as Donna walked out of his room, Matty felt tears pricking the back of his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have lied to his mom, but he wanted to spare her the pain of seeing him struggle.

The truth was, he hadn't been fine since she was diagnosed. First, he had been upset, guilty even. And when people at school found out, it was even worse. Because his mother was a public figure, most everyone at school had found out through the statement she put out before her surgery. Then, school-the one place where Matty needed everything to stay normal-became a constant barrage of teachers and classmates surrounding him, asking what they could do, telling him they were praying for his mom. Or the reverse was that people completely ignored him. Those were the people who didn't know what to say or do. Matty found himself withdrawing more and more. It was easier than trying to deal with people.

He excelled at school but often found his concentration lacking in other places, such as when his parents or siblings tried to engage him in conversation, or on the soccer field.

Matty sighed as he stared at his school book, not absorbing much of anything. He knew he needed help, but he didn't know if he could open up to his parents.

There was one other place he could go, he supposed.

The next day, he went to the Guidance Center and asked to speak with someone.

One of the school's guidance counselors, Mrs. Freedman, showed him into her office. "What can I do for you, Matt?" Only his friends and family still called him Matty, and he was all right with that.

"Well...I've been struggling a lot at home."

"Oh. How so?"

"I know it hasn't exactly been public knowledge, but...my mom has cancer." He was stunned as he felt a release. Just saying it out loud was a huge relief.

Mrs. Freedman nodded. "I see a note here in your file. Your dad reached out when your mom was starting treatment."

"He did?"

"Yes. How have you been feeling?"

"About what? Mom's cancer?"

"Or just in general."

"Well...I've kinda been feeling out of it, not quite with it, you know?"

"That's certainly understandable." Mrs. Freedman replied. "When something like this happens, it's normal to have all different kinds of feelings. Do you have brothers and sisters?"

"Mm-hmm. My little brother's been acting out, and one of my sisters has jumped in to help Mom. The other one's trying to pretend it isn't even happening."

"You're not gonna feel the same as your siblings. So, your feelings are making themselves known by you becoming withdrawn. Is that correct?"

Matty nodded. "I want to help my mom, I do. But there's a bigger part of me that just wishes life could go back to the way it was before Mom got sick. And when I feel like that, I feel guilty, like I'm missing the bigger picture and my feelings are trivial. Mom and Dad don't need that. They know life'll never be the same. But I can't let myself believe that."

"Matt, I think what you're feeling is completely normal." The guidance counselor told him simply. "It is normal to have big, conflicting feelings when someone you love-and someone who's cared for you her entire life-is sick. It can make you feel angry, guilty, out of control. So, you want to have normalcy, but that's not what's happening, so you're withdrawing to avoid talking to people, hammering home the reality of the situation. Does that sum it up?"

He nodded again, amazed. "How did you know?"

"I do this for a living, remember?" She said. "It also sounds like you might have a little bit of situational depression."

"Situational depression?"

"It's just as it sounds. I can't exactly prescribe you anything for it, but try talking to your mom or your dad about your feelings. I think you'd be surprised how much that can help. I can also keep seeing you in here until you're feeling better. Maybe after school? Does that work?"

Matty smiled for the first time since Donna was diagnosed. "Yeah. I could do that."

"Good."

That very afternoon, Matty already felt better when going to his soccer practice. Connor noticed his behavior change immediately.

"You seem happy."

"Yeah, so what?"

"I just mean, you haven't seemed happy for a while. You look like you're feeling better."

"I think I am."

"That's really good to hear."

Between Connor's positive encouragement and his conversation with Mrs. Freedman, Matty now felt comfortable enough going to his parents. After asking them for a private conversation, he took them to his bedroom and poured his heart out.

When he was finished, both parents looked at each other guiltily. Donna had tears in her eyes.

"Oh, honey," Donna murmured as she pulled Matty in for a hug. "I'm so sorry you've been holding all this in."

"Why didn't you just come to me, buddy?" Josh asked, concerned.

"I didn't know how," Matty admitted. "I figured if I told you how I was feeling, you would just make some generalization, like 'We all feel that way.'."

"I wouldn't have-We all want our lives to go back to normal, and they will. But that doesn't invalidate your feelings. Not one bit."

"Really?" Matty looked up with tears in his eyes.

"Really," Josh confirmed.

They sat with Matty on his bed for a while, answering his questions. By the end of that evening, Matty felt better about being able to come to his parents.

…

That left Anna. After their eye-opening discussions with Matty and Leo, Josh and Donna were more attentive to the subtle signs that their daughters were struggling too. But while Abby wore her feelings on her sleeve, constantly taking care of things around the house and asking what she could do for her mom, Anna had become a ghost.

To be fair, she had her own stress to worry about-she was 28 weeks pregnant, and she and Ben were trying their hardest to get their lives in order so they could welcome a child into the world. While Josh appreciated his daughter's maturity and willingness to give up as much as possible for her yet-to-be-born son, he also realized that pouring herself into her pregnancy was her way of not dealing with her mother's illness.

He had an idea. It was one he didn't think Anna would like, but it was something that he thought Anna and Donna both desperately needed.

"Hey, Anna?" Josh asked, rapping on the 16-year-old's door. He was a little stunned to see the crib set up near Anna's window, as well as a small changing table next to her dresser. It wasn't that he hadn't been able to contextualize the fact that his daughter was having a baby, but the furniture in her room put it on a whole new level.

"Did you need something, Dad?" Anna said, her arms crossed over her middle.

"Yeah," Josh said, snapping back into parent mode. "Listen, I, um, have a check-up on Friday. My physical. Can you sit with your mom that afternoon during chemo?"

Anna looked taken aback. "Can't Abby do it?"

"Abby's got debate team after school. Besides, you haven't been to the hospital once since Mom started chemo. I know she really misses seeing you guys."

"I...can't. I have a doctor's appointment." Anna said. And that was the truth.

But Josh saw right through her. "Your appointment's at 1:30. You can go after that."

"But, Dad-"

"But nothing! You've done nothing for her. It's like you're not even part of this family!" Josh snapped.

Anna looked stricken. Deep down, she knew her dad was absolutely right.

He calmed down. "Look, I didn't mean to lose my temper, but you've been a ghost since your mom was diagnosed."

"I can't stand it, Dad," Anna said quietly.

"You can't stand what?"

"To see her like that."

Josh sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "I know. But maybe that's why it'll be good for you. She won't be sick all the time. Just sit with her, talk to her about your life, about anything. I think you'll be really glad you went."

Anna uncrossed her arms, still skeptical but knowing her dad wouldn't back down. "I will, huh?"

"Just try." Josh implored her.

She sighed. "But I don't know what to do if she gets sick."

"That's what the nurses are there for."

"What can I even do for her?"

"Just...be what she needs. Okay? Just be what she needs."

Anna nodded slowly. She would go if only to prove to herself that there was nothing to be scared of. "Okay. I'll go."

That Friday, Anna went to her appointment, the same as normal. No ultrasound this time, but she did get to hear the baby's heartbeat, and they picked up a bear that could have his heartbeat recorded inside it.

The stuffed bear tucked under her arm, she made her way to Holy Cross. Ben dropped her off and after getting directions, she rode the elevator to the Oncology floor.

"Excuse me." She asked. "Where do they give chemo?"

"Chemo suite's right down the hall, honey." The receptionist said. "If you give us the patient's name, we can check to make sure they aren't in an inpatient room."

"Donna Lyman."

"Abby?" There was a voice next to her. "I just checked in with your mom-she's still getting her chemo drip in the suite. I can take you down there."

"Thanks. But I'm not Abby, I'm Anna. How do you know my sister?"

"Oh. Sorry, I should've guessed. I'm Dr. Phillips, I'm her oncologist."

"Oh, nice to meet you," Anna said, shaking his hand.

"So you're the twin." Dr. Phillips commented. "Your mom's told me a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Plenty of good things." He assured her. "How compassionate you are, how proud she is of how you've handled this pregnancy."

That got Anna's attention. "Really?"

"Really." They arrived at the chemo suite. "Just make sure you use the hand sanitizer at the desk, and she is in the chair at the end on the left."

"Thank you," Anna responded. Dr. Phillips left the room, and Anna did as instructed, quickly finding her mom. Donna appeared to be asleep, wearing a red slip-on scarf, a green blouse, and jeans. Anna tried hard not to look at the IV pole next to her, dressed with the treatment that would save her mother's life. The medication was dripping into Donna's veins. Anna, who had always been squeamish with needles, looked away and sat in the visitor's chair next to her mom.

Donna began to sense she wasn't alone. Her eyes opened, and she rolled her head to the side. Her entire face lit up when she saw who was sitting there.

"Hi, baby," Donna said.

"Hi, Mom," Anna replied. "How are you feeling?"

"A little drowsy, but I haven't been sick this time, so I can handle it."

"That's good, I guess. Hey, do you want to see this cool thing we bought?"

"Sure. How was your appointment, by the way?"

"It went well. Baby boy's right on track for growth, and I'm gaining enough weight, so Dr. Manley says."

"Did you get an ultrasound?"

"Not until 36 weeks."

"Mm, that's right. So, what did you buy?"

Anna handed her the bear. "Press that button right there."

Donna did as her daughter said, and was greeted by a familiar thumping sound. "Is that…"

"His heartbeat." Anna finished. "I thought I might give it to him after he's born-once he's big enough for stuffed animals."

"How cool!" Donna exclaimed, stroking the bear, then reaching over to run her hand through her daughter's curls. "Hey. I'm really glad you're here. I know Dad said he had to talk you into it, but...I'm glad you came."

Anna smiled bashfully. "You're welcome." She paused. "I'm really sorry I haven't been here."

"Sweetie, you don't have to apologize. This is a lot for you. I know."

"Okay."

Over the next hour and a half, Donna and Anna sat in the chairs and just talked. At times, it seemed like Anna was doing most of the talking, but that was fine. Donna was happy just for the company.

And Anna began to let go of her fears of spending time with her mom while she was so sick.

…

Three days later, Donna was in the House chambers when she started to feel sick.

Not nauseous, but she was coughing. She knew she was likely coming down with something, but didn't think she had a fever.

Still, Ryan noticed.

"You OK, boss? Donna?" He asked her as she walked past him into her office. A minute later, she came back.

"Ryan, I'm not feeling too well. I think I'm gonna go home and rest."

"You sure you're alright?" Annabeth said, joining the conversation. "You look kinda flushed."

"Yeah," Donna replied, nodding quickly. "I'll be OK."

As she drove home and laid on the couch, however, she found herself doubled over by coughing fits. Her chest hurt with every cough.

The front door opened. "Mom, I'm home!" Anna called out. "Mom?"

Her hacking coughs were heard right into the foyer.

Anna rushed in. "Mom? Mom, what's wrong?!"

"My chest...I can't stop coughing." Donna said, wheezing.

The teenager's hand automatically went to her mother's head. "Please don't have a fever, please don't have a fever." She muttered.

But sure enough, Donna was hot to the touch.

"Oh, my God." She said aloud. "Mom, you're burning up!"

Donna only coughed in reply.

"We have to get you to the hospital, like, right now." Her father's words to her and her siblings from way back when her mother first started chemo echoed in her brain: If she ever has a fever, we'll need to drop everything and take her to the hospital, because a fever could be life-threatening to someone with a low white cell count. "Where's Dad?"

"At the...White House."

"What about Abby?"

"Debate team practice." There was a pleading look in Donna's eyes. A look saying, You're the only one here. I need you.

That made Anna stand up and help her mom off the couch. "Come on, let's go."

She quickly helped her mom put on a windbreaker and led her to the car. Just then, she remembered something. Running back to the kitchen, she grabbed a sheet of paper off the refrigerator that was stuck there in case of emergencies. It was a list of all her mom's medications, including her chemo drugs, and the dosages. It was everything her doctors needed to know if she ever landed in the hospital.

Rushing back to the car as fast she could, she hopped in the drivers' seat. She stole a glance at Donna, pale and coughing in the passenger seat.

"It's gonna be OK, Mom," Anna said comfortingly. And she drove off.

A/N: Cliffhanger! Will Donna be all right? And will Anna finally break through her feelings about her mother's illness? Stay tuned for the next chapter!