A/N: Hi again, all! I'm sorry I missed my usual posting schedule for this chapter. My summer has shaped up to be a lot busier than I thought it would be, and readership seems to be down quite a bit. Fear not because I still plan to finish this story, but if my posting does slow a bit that is why. This chapter is a big one for Eric and Donna, and is one of my favorites of the whole story. It fills in some gaps from Eric's time in New York and answers some questions I think many folks have had. I hope you like it!

Chapter 11 (XI)

November, 1984

It was a brisk, early November afternoon and Kitty and Red sat at their kitchen table, as they did most afternoons. Red, as usual, looked grumpy and mildly uncomfortable. Kitty prattled on about what she planned to make for dinner that evening.

"Oh, Eric," Kitty greeted her son as he walked through the swinging kitchen door. "Would you be a dear and go get the chicken out of the freezer in the basement for me? Your father's been feeling stiff all day."

"Sure mom."

It was as quick as that.

When Eric got back upstairs, heaving the frozen chicken with some considerable effort, he found Red on the floor and his mother at the wall making a frantic phone call.

"What's going on?"

"Take this," Kitty shoved the phone into Eric's hand. "He fell. We need an ambulance." She rushed to Red's side, taking his hand with one of hers while the other one rested gently atop his chest. "Breathe, Red," she coached, with the practiced ease of a nurse. "Breathe."

"Oh my god, is he okay?" Jackie and Fez burst through the doors to the hospital waiting room first, followed closely by Brooke, Kelso, and young Betsy, who clung to her favorite doll. Jackie ran right up to Eric and engulfed him in an awkward but sincere hug.

"I – I don't know," Eric sputtered, as they moved away. "I don't know anything yet, except that they've moved him up here, to neurology."

"Urology?" Kelso interjected. "Oh. So it's a problem with his," he lowered his voice and looked away from Betsy, "Parts?"

"He said 'nuero-' not 'uro-', you dillhole." Hyde had arrived, and he frogged Kelso in the shoulder as he spoke.

"Is that his brain?" Fez asked nervously.

"No, his nerves. What do we know, Forman?" Hyde gestured for the group to make their way to a cluster of chairs, and they all followed his direction and sat down, spreading their coats out on the chairs as if they were settling in for an extended stay.

"I don't know anything," Eric shared glumly. "He went into the ER and they took him back immediately." He checked his wristwatch. "Maybe twenty minutes ago they told me he was moved up here. My mom is back there with him now. The nurse at the desk said his doctors will come out here to update me when they can."

"He just collapsed out of nowhere?" Jackie asked. She'd wiggled out of her coat, and now set her purse down at her feet.

"Right before dinner," Eric confirmed. "He was having trouble breathing in the ambulance on the way here, too."

"Shit," Hyde mumbled, mostly to himself.

"Yeah, shit," Eric echoed.

"We'll stay with you until they have an update, Eric," Fez volunteered. "Mr. Red, he was like a father to all of us."

"Thanks guys." The truth was, this still felt surreal. Like one of those times when he was having a vivid dream, and then woke up, and couldn't be sure if he was back in reality or still dreaming. Never, not once in his twenty-five years, had he seen Red that way before. The image of him strewn across the kitchen floor, chest heaving and eyes wild – truly scared. It haunted Eric.

"Soooo, they got a food court here, or what?"

"Kelso. Seriously? You've been here for maybe five minutes."

"Well it's dinner time, Hyde," Kelso exclaimed. "Excuse me. I'm sad about Red, but I'm also hungry."

"Down the hall," Eric pointed limply.

Brooke smiled sympathetically, and lifted her arms to guide Kelso and Betsy down the hallway as if they were both her children. Jackie and Fez had their heads close together, and were talking about something Eric couldn't hear. Next to him, Hyde leaned forward so that his elbows rested on the tops of his knees.

"Talked to Laurie?" he asked quietly.

Eric snorted. "Tried. I called the last number my parents had for her – some place in Arkansas. Some old guy answered and said he'd never heard of her."

"Figures." Hyde rolled his fingers over one another, staring at his shoes rather than looking up at Eric. He wanted to say something, Eric could tell. Finally, after a few more moments, Hyde quietly asked the question that had been on his mind, "You think it's bad?"

Eric swallowed hard. "Yeah. I think it's bad."

Hyde didn't say anything, but he inhaled deeply and stood, removed his sunglasses, and began to pace around the waiting room. Eric understood. It was time to prepare.

"Jackie."

Jackie, preoccupied with choosing a snack from the vending machine, whirled around, startled. When she saw who was speaking to her, she rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the vending machine. "Steven," she replied, curtly.

"Can't believe this is happening, man." His voice was soft and he'd taken a few steps towards her. Jackie felt herself start to soften, but then shook her shoulders back and steadied her resolve.

"It's awful what's happening to Mr. Forman," Jackie agreed, as she fed her money into the machine and entered her selection for pretzels. "He and Mrs. Forman, they're such good people. They just don't deserve this."

"Yeah."

Jackie turned around with her pretzels in her hand, and couldn't help but feel trapped. Steven stood between herself and the doorway where all their friends sat. A part of her ached to pull him into her arms and to soothe him with a warm hug and pets to his hair, which he'd never admit he liked, but she knew he secretly did. Steven had lost father figure after father figure throughout his life, and here he stood, poised to lose one more. None of it was lost on Jackie.

But the sting of their last conversation still lingered. She'd thought Steven was a good man, a changed man. But good men didn't call women whores. Especially not women they loved.

"Look, Steven," she straightened her back with resolve. "Fez and I are here to support the Forman's, okay? That's it."

"I know."

"So I don't have time for… whatever this is," she gestured between them. "There's no respect left between us. You made that clear the other night. So honestly, Steven, the best thing you can do is just leave me alone."

She brushed passed him with her pretzels, and he didn't try to stop her. Leaving Steven behind both physically and metaphorically hurt, and Jackie swallowed back the sob she felt forming in her chest. But she had to start establishing boundaries. Better late than never.

Eric took a walk on the grounds just outside the hospital. Just to get away, just for a moment. The sun was starting to set, and Eric gazed at the pink and purple masterpiece mother nature had splashed across the skies. Fleetingly, he wondered if Red had seen his last sunset. He shook the thought from his mind. It was too early for… that. And comprehending a world where he existed without his father – well, Eric didn't know if he'd ever be ready for that.

When he re-entered the hospital waiting room, he noticed that Donna, Natalia, and Casey had arrived. While Casey was up at the front desk getting information from the nurse (or hitting on her – it was anyone's guess), Donna bounced a blissfully oblivious Natalia on her knee. When Donna saw him enter she stopped, and lowered Natalia to the ground so she could stand and greet him.

"I'm so sorry, Eric," Donna murmured, as he got nearer. "We came as soon as we heard."

Eric felt a pang of guilt for not calling her right away, when he'd called the rest of the gang. Given her close relationship with his parents, he knew he should've. But he hadn't wanted her to think he expected, or needed, her to be there to comfort him. He'd sort of wanted to see if she'd come on her own. And she did.

"Thanks for coming," he acknowledged.

"Of course."

Eric glanced around the room, and felt his heart swell at the amount of love and support he felt from his friends. Kelso (after downing some ala carte French fries from the hospital cafeteria) was snuggled up in a waiting room chair, reading a story to Betsy. Jackie and Fez were seated comically at a small table set up in the kid's corner of the waiting room, engaged in a heated game of Candy Land. Hyde hadn't stopped his pacing, but he chatted with Donna and Natalia casually as he did so. Eric sunk down into a chair, and let his forehead come to rest in his hands. He couldn't imagine doing this alone. Thank god he didn't have to.

"So where's that pretty little Mrs. Forman?" A slimy voice intruded upon Eric's moment of peace. Casey. "I've got a little something here," Casey gestured to the bouquet of flowers he held in his left hand, "For my biggest fan."

"She's back with my dad right now," Eric focused on keeping his voice even. "But I can give them to her later." He reached his hands out, and Casey sneered at him.

"Oh, c'mon. You're telling me she wouldn't make an appearance for a special delivery?"

"Casey." Donna, who had been watching the exchange from across the room, intervened. "Now isn't the time. Eric'll get them to her. Right?"

Eric locked eyes with Donna. "Right."

Sensing that he was beat, Casey sighed and handed the bouquet over to Eric. "Well, if you insist." He paused, and put on a cheesy, fake smile. "You let her know we're all rootin' for her and Red."

"Uh. Thanks. I will."

Noticing that Hyde was preoccupying Natalia with a piggyback ride, Donna pulled Casey into a corner of the waiting room. "Hey, I think I'm gonna need to stay for a while," Donna told him. "Maybe even overnight. Will you take Natalia home, and stay with her? She doesn't need to see all of this."

Casey balked. "Why in the world would you need to stay here overnight?"

"The Formans were my second parents," Donna shrugged. "For all of us when we were growing up – ask your brother. I just," she hesitated. "I need to make sure they're all okay. It's important to me."

"Well if you stay, we can all stay," Casey began, but Donna shook her head and cut him off.

"Not Natalia. I don't want her here for this – it's too much to explain and I don't want her to be scared. So please take her home, okay?" When Casey still didn't look convinced, Donna grabbed the front of his jacket and shook it lightheartedly. "At least then I'll know she's with someone I trust."

"Yeah but how do I know –"

"How do you know, what?" Donna cut him off, her eyebrows raised. "Look, I need you to do this. Can you just do it? Please?"

Casey paused for a long moment, then said, "You drive a hard bargain, Pinciotti. But yes, ma'am." He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat.

"Don't forget, she needs a story before bed," Donna reminded him, smiling.

"That can be arranged," Casey gave her a charming smile. He pulled her into his arms possessively, and leaned in close to her ear. "Just know," he started, "That if you don't come home tonight, then I'm swinging by this waiting room first thing in the morning with a cappuccino and a muffin for you. Got it?"

Donna reached up to caress his cheeks. "That sounds amazing. And thank you," she hesitated. "For understanding."

"Anything to make my lady happy," Casey winked. "Hey Nat," he turned his attention to the other end of the waiting room. "Let's go. We can swing by my friend McDonald's on our way home."

Donna crossed her arms, and watched as Casey and Natalia left. It was hard to be without her daughter, who she was practically attached to at the hip, for even one night. But if she and Casey were going to have a future together, then it needed to include a Natalia who was comfortable with Casey as her father figure. She knew that Casey had it in him. They just needed more time together, to bond.

Eric's watch beeped at him, indicating it was now midnight.

Hyde had left just a little while ago, saying he was going to head home to sleep for a few hours before checking back first thing in the morning. Brooke and Kelso had left around 9:30, because they needed to get Betsy home and to bed for school the next morning. Jackie and Fez had called it quits a few hours later, but had promised to come around the next morning if Red was still being treated.

Each time one of his friends regretfully bowed out, Eric understood. It had been a long night, and aside from the update a few hours ago from a nurse that he was currently being placed on a ventilator to help him breathe, they didn't know anything more than they had when they'd arrived. As much as it felt good to have their support, Eric knew that his friends staying at the hospital with him wouldn't make a difference to Red's prognosis. Besides, they'd be back to check in again in the morning.

That reasoning didn't work on Donna, though. Eric had hinted, and then outright stated, that it was fine for Donna to go home and that he'd be fine at the hospital alone overnight.

She'd just shaken her head. "I know what it feels like to be alone and scared in a hospital waiting room," she'd shared with him. "My dad had a heart attack last year."

Bob was fine and was now living a happy (and probably gross) life with Joanne, who he'd reunited with down in Florida and had gone on to marry. They lived in a senior living community down near Tampa, but were talking about relocating to Wisconsin soon to be closer to Donna and Natalia.

"He came through it," Donna had gone on to explain. "But it was one of the scariest moments of my life. To see my dad – the person who raised me, who I always looked up to – so helpless, and not knowing if he was going to die or not…" she had shaken her head, and looked to the floor. "I don't have any siblings, you know, and so I just went through it by myself. I wouldn't wish that on anyone else."

"Even me?"

She had smirked. "Even you."

Now she sat across from Eric, both of them spread out across a row of uncomfortable waiting room seating. They hadn't spoken in nearly thirty minutes, and Donna's head was turned down into her sweater. Eric wondered if she was sleeping. Several of the other people who still occupied the waiting room obviously were. The overhead lights had been dimmed. A nurse manned the front desk overnight, but otherwise they were alone, the occasional announcement over the hospital loudspeaker the only thing to interrupt the quiet.

"Eric," Donna's whisper rang out across the cold tile of the waiting room.

"Hmm?"

There was a long pause, and then she seemed to take back what she'd started. "Never mind."

Now intrigued, Eric shifted his shoulder and elbow so that he was propped up, and looking straight across at Donna. "No, really. What?"

Donna did the same, and then shook her head. "It's stupid."

"Try me."

She paused for so long Eric almost questioned whether she'd heard him. Then, finally, in a broken voice she whispered, "Did you ever miss me?"

"What?" he whispered lowly, unsure he'd heard her correctly.

"Did you ever miss me?" she repeated, her voice stronger than before. "When you were in Africa. Or New York?"

Eric swallowed hard. "Yes," he whispered, hoarsely at first. "Of course I did." Donna was silent for almost a minute, so he continued. "I didn't… Donna, I didn't know what to say. Nothing that happened was planned, you know? And looking back now… I – I regret it. I made mistakes." More silence followed his confession, so he swallowed his fear and decided to ask her a question that had been burning in the back of his mind. "Did you love that, ah, guy? Pete Peterson, or whatever?"

Donna sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. "No," she finally spoke, so softly that Eric had to crane to hear it. "I didn't. And I made some mistakes, too."

"Was he here?" Eric asked quietly. "When she was born? Her dad."

"No," Donna shook her head. "He wasn't. Just my mom, and Jackie."

The two of them were silent for a long couple of moments, both sitting with the confessions they'd both made and heard.

Eric was the next to speak. "Do you – do you still write?" he asked tentatively. "I mean, outside of your job. Like, stories. Like you used to."

Donna laughed. "I didn't for the longest time," she admitted. "I just felt…dried up. But in the last couple of years, I've started to. Just a piece here or there. I send them to literary magazines and don't get a response, so…" she trailed off, shrugging.

"I'm glad," Eric whispered. "Not that – not that you're not getting published," he clarified quickly. "But that you're writing again. Because you always had a gift for that."

"That's nice of you to say, but –"

"No, you really did," Eric interrupted her. "I'm not just saying that. I'd love to read your stuff."

"Yeah," Donna scoffed. "Right."

"I would," Eric insisted. "Any time."

A few more minutes of silence passed before Donna asked, almost reluctantly, "So what was New York like?" Eric detected an edge of bitterness in her voice. "There must've been something pretty special there to keep you away for five years."

Eric paused before answering, collecting his thoughts. "It wasn't anything special," he finally decided on. "You know what really happened? I quit my program in Africa without telling a soul. I just got on a plane, and left. I flew to New York, because that was the cheapest flight."

"You didn't tell anyone that you quit?"

"Nope." Eric sighed. "It just… wasn't what I had thought it would be. We were out in the middle of nowhere, and had roomfuls of kids to teach every day. Kids who wanted to be there, but had just never been to school before. A lot of them didn't speak English. We didn't have any training or supplies, and I just… felt useless." He paused, weighing her reaction. Her facial expression didn't tell him anything, but she was listening. "After a couple of months I realized I just… wasn't up for it. And I'm ashamed of that," he finished lowly. "Truth be told, I still don't think I'm up for it. Teaching." He swallowed hard.

"So what happened after you left Africa?"

"I got to New York," Eric explained. "I didn't feel like I could fly home and explain… I don't know. Another failure, I guess. I didn't want to go back home empty handed, when I left to make money for college."

"How could you stay away for five years, though?" Donna asked him. "That's the part I – we –" she corrected herself. "We don't understand."

Eric sighed, and shrugged. "I made it work in New York for a few months. I worked as a bartender, cleaned dishes, that type of thing. I really thought I would stay there for a few months, do some soul searching and some growing up, and then head back to Point Place with a new plan. I really did."

"So what happened?"

"Things got pretty… dark for a while there. I was confused. I was alone. I started to get pissed off about how my life wasn't turning out the way I'd wanted it to. And I wrote Small Pond," he cleared his throat. "From that… um, place." Donna raised an eyebrow, a silent question playing across her features. "A few months later my old roommate from Africa, Bill, made contact. He was back, and working for a publishing house in New York. And the rest is history." Eric shrugged.

"And once Small Pond got published, you couldn't come back because of what you wrote about all of us," Donna continued for him. "Right?"

"Right." Eric's eyes shot up to meet Donna's, and she sighed and then looked away.

She was quiet for a long time. Eric worried she didn't believe that he was being sincere, or maybe that she didn't want to talk to him anymore now that she knew the pathetic truth. He scrambled for something to say, something that would comfort her or assure her that he knew what he'd done wasn't okay –

"It really fucked me up, you know?" Her voice was hoarse, and she focused on her shoe sliding across the surface of the tile floor rather than him. "Your book," she added. "The way you wrote 'Dawn', it just –"

"It wasn't fair," Eric interrupted her. "It wasn't okay. I know that and Donna, I'm sorry. I really, really am."

"It hurt me," Donna continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "It broke me, I think. And not because it was mean, but because I think it was right."

"It wasn't –"

"Just listen, okay?" Her eyes finally met his, and they bore right through him like a laser beam.

Eric gulped and nodded his understanding, and Donna continued. "I always had all these big dreams, you know? I was gonna travel and see the world, I was gonna have a kickass job that really meant something, I wanted to change the world…" she trailed off. "And then instead, I had a kid. A really, really great kid," she immediately clarified. "But then I was a single mother, and all of that was off the table. All those dreams I had, they were over. But you got to live them. And I think," she reached up to dab at her eyes again. Eric hadn't even realized she'd started to cry. "I think that's why I hate you."

"You hate me?" Eric's voice was softer than it had been all night.

"I want to," Donna spoke honestly in the protection of the twilight. "I – Eric, I really want to." She released a heavy sigh. "But you make it difficult."

"Donna, look, I know you're jealous –"

"I'm not jealous," she spat, indignant.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm doing it again, huh? That whole thing where I mess up what I'm trying to say and end up being offensive? That trait that people pretend to be angry about but really find endearing –"

"Yeah," Donna snarled. "You're doing it again."

"Right." Eric took a deep breath to regroup. "What I'm trying to say, Donna," he began. "Is that I might have success on paper, with my novel and the movie. But that's literally all I have. When I leave a meeting or a press event and go home, I'm all alone. When something funny happens and I want to call someone right away to tell them about it, I have no one. What you have with Natalia, the family you've created…" he trailed off, wistfully. "I would give anything for that."

Donna thought about what he'd said for a moment and looked like she was about to respond, when the door behind the nurses' station swung open, momentarily flooding the waiting room with crisp, white light. A young, female doctor stepped forward into the waiting room and lowered her protective facial mask. "Is the family of Reginald Forman present?" she called.

Hyde sat alone in his truck, parked at the far end of the hospital parking lot. It had been a few hours now since he'd left the waiting room, but he didn't know where else to go. He couldn't fathom going home to his small, dingy apartment while Red could be taking his last breaths. The bar might've been a logical next choice, but he already did that most nights. Plus, he glanced at his watch, it was already nearing last call.

He would've stayed in the waiting room all night, but Forman and Donna seemed like they needed some alone time to finally god damn talk to each other. One by one their friends had made their excuses and headed home, and eventually Hyde had picked up on the tension between the former flames and had said his goodbyes, too.

So now he was here. Alone in his truck.

His stomach growled loudly, and Hyde patted it, remembering for the first time that it had been half a day since he'd last eaten. It didn't matter. With the sudden very possible demise of a man who Hyde cared about and who had taught him important things about being a man, nothing mattered. Except maybe Jackie.

He closed his eyes, and he could still hear their last conversation before that night playing out, crystal clear.

"C'mon Jackie," his own words rang through his mind. "You've been hopping from one guy to another in this town for years. Next it's Fez's turn, right?"

"Are you calling me a whore, Steven?" He could still picture the hurt in her eyes, and hear the hitch in her voice.

"If the shoe fits."

"You know what, Steven? You were the only one who never called me those names."

It had been intentional, of course – his choice to imply something about Jackie that he'd known she would find unforgivable. Her reaction to him today at the hospital had all but confirmed that he was cancelled, and she'd never speak to him again. As soon as Casey Kelso had revealed his knowledge of their affair and his potential to blackmail one or both of them with the information, Hyde knew it had to end. Point Place was a small town, and this information getting out could screw over a lot more than just himself and Jackie.

So his name calling and asshole behavior would make it easy for Jackie to walk away from him, to have a clean break. To turn all of her attention to Fez, who was the type of person who really deserved Jackie anyway, and would give her the things she wanted. Marriage, a big house, a couple of kids… Hyde could never promise any of those things. And Fez, well, he could.

Fez had always been the logical choice, Hyde continued to reason with himself. Himself and Jackie, they'd been young and passionate, but destined to burn out eventually. And now they had. Jackie would go ahead and settle into the comfortable life she desired with Fez, and Hyde would – he frowned. He wasn't sure what his future held. But he knew that from where he was sitting, it looked bleak.

"I'm sorry," Eric muttered. "Could you – could you say it for me again?"

"Your father has ALS, or amyotrophic lateral sclerosis," the young doctor repeated kindly. "It's a neurological disease that affects nerve cells responsible for controlling voluntary movement. In the past few months you might've noticed that your father had stiffness and weakness in his arms and legs." Eric nodded, wordlessly. "He's been showing signs of fatigue, twitching muscles that he cannot control, and those muscles have been atrophying, making him appear smaller and weaker." Again, Eric nodded. "Unfortunately, your father's disease has started to progress to his lungs and his heart. He wasn't able to breathe normally, and that led to his collapse and admittance to the hospital today."

"Right," Eric nodded, numbly. "So does that mean… I mean, is he…?"

"He is alive," the doctor confirmed, and Eric felt his heart leap up into his throat with relief. "We have him on a ventilator to help him breathe, and hope that we can remove that in the next couple of days so that he can return home. Your mother is with him now. She does not wish to leave his side."

"Okay," Eric frantically gathered his thoughts. "Okay. So he gets to go home?"

"Yes. For now." The doctor frowned. "Unfortunately, we can expect your father's condition to deteriorate quite rapidly over the next several weeks, now that the disease is showing signs of affecting his respiratory system."

"What's his, um," Eric fumbled. "How much time does he have?"

"Months," the doctor answered. "Maybe weeks. I am so sorry."

"He'll be dead in a few weeks?"

"It may be," the doctor shrugged. "People with ALS… some of them go so quickly, and some of them live for years with the disease. But with the symptoms your father is showing, we assume the former. I am so sorry," she repeated, and slid her mask back up onto her face. "I need to go back now, to monitor his ventilator. I can come back in the morning, to give you an update."

"Yeah," Eric agreed numbly. "Please do."

As the doctor made her way back to the patients' area, Eric walked limply over to his chair and then dropped into it unceremoniously. He eased his head forward, and into his hands. Red was alive, and his heart leapt at the fact. But he was actively dying of a vicious disease, and Eric didn't know how to begin to process that. Silently, he began to shake. His eyes were bone dry - they betrayed him, and wouldn't release his tears of grief. But it wracked his whole body.

Within moments, he felt a warm hand smooth across the expanse of his back. She didn't say anything, but instinctively he knew Donna was there. It was the first time she had touched him, intentionally, since his return.

"He'll be dead in a few weeks," Eric croaked. "Or months."

"I know," Donna didn't stop rubbing his back. "I overheard. I'm so sorry, Eric."

The tears still refused to come, but Eric heaved, his chest filled with grief. "He knew," he said lowly, returning to a sitting position so he could look at Donna. "She said he knew. For more than a year." Slowly, Eric started to shake his head. "I should've been here. I should've…"

"Eric," Donna grabbed his forearm. "You couldn't have stopped this, even if you were here. It's a disease."

"But I could've spent more time with him. Helped my," he choked. "My mom."

"You didn't know."

"Still," Eric shook his head. "I can't believe they didn't tell me."

Donna still kept her grip on his forearm. "I know it might not make sense," she began. "But I really think they were trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"From this." She shrugged. "This grief." She released her grip on him, and leaned back into her uncomfortable chair. Eric did the same, and met her eyes. "I mean, Eric, you've got to understand… we all thought you were out there in New York thriving. Living the life you'd always wanted. Maybe your parents just," she paused. "Didn't want to take that away from you. They thought you were happy, and that comforted them."

Eric shook his head. "They still should've told me."

"Sometimes people make illogical choices when it comes down to protecting their kids," Donna shrugged. "It's not always right in hindsight, but it's this protective instinct that just takes over. I think one day you'll understand."

"Welcome ho-ooo-me," Kitty cheered in a singsong-y voice. She pushed Red's wheelchair carefully over the barrier of the screened-in door, and wheeled him into their kitchen. "Four days away and you're finally back. Aren't you so happy?"

"Happy isn't really the word," Red retorted.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Crabbypants. Now, we've set up a bed for you in the lounge off the front stairs, and we're going to get you all settled in there," Kitty narrated as she pushed him through the swinging kitchen door. Since his disease had progressed, any additional stress on his heart and his lungs was discouraged, and so they'd created a space for him that he could access without having to use the stairs.

Eric entered the kitchen a few moments after his parents, holding the suitcase he'd carefully packed for his mother in one hand and the pile of documents they'd received upon Red's release from the hospital in the other. He dropped the documents onto the kitchen counter hastily, and noticed the two foil-covered pans of lasagna someone had thoughtfully dropped off. He used both hands to lift one of the pans, intending to transfer it to the refrigerator, when he noticed the manila file that was underneath it. Curiously, he set down the pan and lifted open the file, quickly leafing through its contents. On top was a poem, titled "She Laughs In Sunshine". Underneath that, what appeared to be a short story titled, "Where The Lilies Live". There were more underneath that.

Eric smiled as soon as he realized what it was – Donna's writing.

A/N: We've reached the end of this beast of a chapter! The twists and turns have only just begun...

If you are still reading and enjoying, please drop a review to let me know you are still here and interested in reading through to the end of the story. It has been a long, long journey and I am just trying to gauge how many folks are still with me. xoxo