Disclaimer : Guess what, Cabaret is not mine. Wheeeeee.

And now…my story…

Sally stared up at her bedroom ceiling, just as she had been doing all night. Jonathan slept soundly in a chair next to the bed. She was glad he was asleep; she had too much on her mind to talk with him, or anyone for that matter. Since she had slept all day, she was unable to sleep at all that night and instead, lay there worrying. She worried about herself, and what could possibly be wrong with her. Jonathan had been reluctant to tell her anything when she had asked him, and finally he had told her that all the doctor had said was that he was coming back in the morning. Sally could tell that Jonathan knew more than he would say; that the doctor must have told him something else, something worse. All Sally knew, though, was that she had never felt so ill before. Her headache had returned not long after she had awakened, and by the time Brian left she couldn't sit up any longer without getting dizzy every five seconds. Jonathan had wanted to call the doctor again, but Sally told him that she was fine as long as she was lying down, and Jonathan hesitantly agreed that the doctor's next visit could wait until morning as planned. Jonathan kept trying to make her smile, make her laugh, make her do anything but think about how bad she felt. She appreciated his effort, but it just wasn't helping. All Sally could think about, outside of how awful she felt, was Brian.
Nearly six hours after Brian left, Sally still couldn't figure out what had possessed her to kiss him, or to let him kiss her…she wasn't sure who had initiated it. Ironically enough, it appeared to have been mutual, like everything else in their relationship. Jonathan still had no idea that they had done anything but talk when he left the room, and Sally thought it was just as well. He didn't need to know, not now, not ever. No matter how much she and Brian thought they could make things work, they could never be together again, so it wouldn't matter if Jonathan never knew. Because nothing was going to happen—at least, that's what Sally was going to keep telling herself. They couldn't be together. They couldn't do that again. And besides, she loved Jonathan, and Jonathan loved her, and that was all she needed. Jonathan made her happy. She would get over Brian eventually…she hoped.

******

Jonathan was sitting outside Sally's bedroom door. The doctor had come and gone, and Sally had been sleeping since he left. Jonathan knew that when she woke up, the first thing she was going to do was ask what the doctor had said, and how…how could he tell her that when the doctor had spoken with him in the hallway just outside her room, he had said that there was something blocking the blood flow to her brain, that there was nothing that could be done about it, and that she didn't have much time left? He was regretting having told the doctor that he wanted to tell Sally himself; he didn't want to break down in front of her. Jonathan had forced himself to leave the room while she slept because he was not able to look at her anymore without beginning to cry. It just wasn't fair…she was lying there, sleeping so peacefully, having no idea how sick she was…he couldn't handle it. It was almost as if he was lying to her. He had to get out of that room. But she was bound to wake up any minute, and…Jonathan realized the phone was ringing. He hurried down the hall to his bedroom to pick it up before the ringing woke Sally. "Hello?"

"Hi, Jonathan." Brian. He had forgotten to call Brian. "Do you know anything yet?"

"Yes." Jonathan took a deep breath and slowly repeated to Brian what the doctor had told him.

"Oh my God," Brian said. "Jonathan, I'm…I'm so sorry. How is she taking it?"

"She—she doesn't know yet."

"You haven't told her?"

"She's asleep. She's been asleep since Dr. Warren left. God, Bri…how am I supposed to tell her something like this?"

"Do you want me to come over?"

"No, I…I think I can handle it alone. I think Sally will take it better if it's…just me."

"I understand."

"I'll call you later. I might want you here and…Sally might need you here, too." Jonathan heard Sally calling for him from her room. "She's awake, Bri…I'd better go in there."

"All right. Call if you need me."

"I will." Jonathan hung up the phone and sat on his bed for a minute, trying to compose himself. Inhaling deeply, he got up and walked down the hall to Sally's room.

She was indeed wide awake, and she had moved her pillow so that she was sitting up, resting against it. "There you are," she said, smiling.

He attempted a grin. "Here I am."

Sally's smile quickly faded. "It's bad, isn't it?"

He pretended not to know what she was talking about. "What is?"

"Don't do that, Jonathan. What…what did the doctor tell you?" She was looking straight into his eyes. Oh God, Sally, he thought, you have no idea. He sat on the side of the bed and took one of her hands, clasping it tightly between both of his.

"Listen, darling," Jonathan began gently. "Dr. Warren told me that there is something in your brain, and…and whatever it is…well, it's not supposed to be there, and it's causing your blood to…to not get to your brain fast enough." He heard his voice breaking. "…And there's not any treatment f-for it."

Sally was still looking at him. "I'm…I'm not going to get any better, am I?" Her voice was nearly inaudible.

"No, darling, you're…you're not." He struggled to blink back the tears that were welling in his eyes. He wasn't going to let her see him upset; she didn't need that now. It was quiet for a few minutes.

"Jonathan?" she whispered meekly.

"What?" He already knew what her next question was…the question he had been dreading.

"Am I going to die?" Jonathan couldn't bring himself to answer. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Oh God," Sally whispered. Jonathan crawled up onto the bed and pulled her close to him. He was sitting up, leaning back against the headboard, holding her in his arms, gently rocking her back and forth and crying silently. She lay crumpled in his lap, sobbing. "I don't want to leave you, Jonathan."

"I know…"

"This can't happen…I'm not ready yet."

"Shh, Sally…" He wished she would stop talking and just let him hold her. He couldn't handle what she was saying.

"I…I wanted to get married some day. I wanted to—"

"Sally, don't. Please. Not now. You're…you're just getting yourself worked up." For the next few minutes, the room was completely silent except for her muffled sobs. Finally, she raised her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were glassy with tears. "I love you."

"I love you too, Sally."

Sally had calmed down a bit, and for a while they just lay there together, holding each other.

"I guess we should call Brian and ask him to come over…so we can tell him," she said.

"He called earlier, when you were asleep. I told him."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed.

"Do you want to see him now? I'll call him if you want me to."

"Would you, Jonathan? I just…"

"Sally, you don't have to explain. I know that Brian is important to you too…I'm not jealous. Or worried."

"Well…good," Sally said softly, lowering her eyes. She felt terrible for lying to him…not telling him about kissing Brian. But she hadn't meant to, she hadn't planned on it…it had just happened. So it was all right not to tell Jonathan.

"I'm going to go downstairs, call Brian, and make you some tea," Jonathan was saying as he rose from his spot on the bed. "You get some rest until I come back." Sally nodded. She was already getting tired again…she figured she could take a nap before Brian came over. As she was starting to fall asleep, she fully realized what Jonathan had said earlier…she was going to die. It hadn't really hit her until just then. There were so many things she was never going to get the chance to do…be an actress, a real actress, just like she'd always wanted to be. Get married. Have children. God, Sally thought, this is it, this is all I'm going to have…ever.