By the morning of the 5th day of chemotherapy, Monica wasn't sure she had the strength to go through it, even if it was the last day in this series of treatments. Nothing anyone told her seemed to help her from getting so violently ill a few hours after the chemo was administered and her human body now felt as if it had been hit by a Mack truck. Everything ached and she was just exhausted and what was even harder was trying to put on a front when Andrew would visit her between assignments.

She would force herself to chatter aimlessly, always insisting that she was doing fine and wanting to hear about his assignments. The visits took all of her energy just to keep up her façade and she wasn't even positive she was doing all that good of an acting job as the same look of concern was always visible in his green eyes when he would tell her good-bye and promise to be back as soon as he could.

It had been as such this morning, after a night of nausea and vomiting, that he had shown up and she had done her best to be cheerful and optimistic, but after he had kissed the top of her head gently as he had bid her good-bye, she had sank back against her pillows as soon as he left the room, as she was completely exhausted.

"You know," Kayla remarked, eyeing her friend thoughtfully, "You have two really wonderful friends in Tess and Andrew, and it just blows my mind that you try to hide things from them. Tess found you out a few nights ago, but you have yet to tell Andrew how things are really going for you and it seems to me that you are expending a lot of energy in not being honest with him."

Monica's eyes widened for a moment, surprised at what her assignment knew about her, "You don't understand, Kayla," She began tiredly, gazing over to where Kayla sat on her bed, thumbing through a magazine, "Andrew…it just wouldn't do any good for him to know. He worries about me a lot and there is nothing he can do this time."

"He can be there for you," She replied pointedly, "My parents have been here to see me once, Monica, as they live so far away and I've been here so long that my colleagues rarely visit me anymore. This is a terrible disease for anyone to go through and people who have it, need all the help they can get in the way of emotional support. I'm thankful to your friend, Tess, as we have had a few good talks once you fall asleep at night and it makes me realize just how lucky you are to have the two of them in your life. If you think your little charade is keeping Andrew or Tess from worrying, then you are just lying to yourself."

"I'm tired," The angel stated wearily, deciding against commenting on Kayla's words to her, "I'm going to grab a nap before they come and take me away for my chemo."

As her friend drifted off to sleep, Kayla shook her head sadly, wondering what it would take for Monica to tell Andrew the truth.

***

As was her practice when her chemotherapy was being administered, Monica opened the journal that Andrew had given to her and dated the top of a new page. Before, she never would have been able to imagine herself journaling, but now, with being placed in this situation, the angel found it strangely comforting to be able to jot down her thoughts at random.

Today is the last chemo session in this series of them and for that I am forever grateful. It's amazing to me that though I didn't feel completely like myself when I entered the hospital last week, I didn't feel all that bad. Tired mostly. But now, with this medication that is supposed to be helping me, I've never felt so sick in my entire existence. Tess had mentioned when this first began that cancer treatments often make the patients feel sicker then they did when they were first told that they have cancer, and this has definitely been true for me. The nausea, the getting sick half the night, and just being so tired, makes me wonder if this is how some humans feel before they die. In my darkest moments, I sometimes wonder if this is what being close to death feels like. I just sometimes wish that I could just wake up from this and realize that it has never happened, but I know that is not the Father's plan for me at this time.

Kayla has been feeling a bit better as she finished up her treatments two days ago and I haven't heard her say anything recently about giving up. I don't know if my talking to her about fighting is what is helping her or if it is due to her feeling better now that her chemo is finished for the moment, but for whatever reason, I'm thankful that she has not said anything more about not wanting to go on as she has so much to live for.

She thinks that I should be honest with Andrew about how I've been feeling, but I just can't burden him with that. Tess, more or less knows, as she has made it a point to be around the last few nights when I'm at my worst after treatments. I hate seeing the deep worry in her eyes for me, and to see that in Andrew's as well, if he knew the truth of it, would be more than I think I could handle. He would feel as if there should be something he could do to help me, and this time, there just isn't.

Monica smiled tiredly as her nurse returned to dispel of the empty chemotherapy bag and the rest of her tubing, before wheeling her back to her room. As the angel sat down on the edge of her bed and prepared to lie down, something on her pillow caught her attention.

Several strands of her auburn locks were clumped together on her pillow and Monica felt her face pale even more as she just stared at them for a moment as tears threatened her brown eyes. Picking them up, she knew in her heart that it wouldn't be much longer before there would be more than just a few strands on her pillow and she shakily threw them into the trashcan next to her bed, now only wanting to lose herself in an exhausted sleep before the tears came.

***

In the wee hours of the morning, Monica moaned softly in her sleep as she tried to shift positions in her bed, but her body ached so badly, that she could scarcely move and her brow furrowed in pain as she tried.

Standing next to her bed was Andrew, his face a mask of deep concern. This was the first nightly visit he had paid to his friend, but he had just come off of an assignment and the nagging feeling he had been having about Monica had led him to come and check on her and he had been more than shocked by her appearance, even in sleep.

He now knew that she was anything but "all right" as he gazed down at her, seeing her sweat dampened hair and how her eyes were red rimmed. Brushing the hair back from her eyes gently, he noted how deathly pale she looked. He remained in angelic form, unseen, even to her as he sank down in the chair beside her bed, his compassionate eyes never leaving her face as he wondered why it was that she had not been honest with him. They had always been so close and there wasn't anything that the little Irish angel would not tell him, especially if she was troubled.

Deep in thought, his head shot up as Monica let out a tearful moan as she struggled to get out of bed, almost too weak to be able to as she managed to get to her feet and propel herself to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

The Angel of Death followed and stood outside the door, his heart racing as he heard the sounds coming from the other side and realized just how ill his dear friend was. He longed to go to her, but there was something he needed to know first and could not find out till the morning, even though he was sure in his heart that he already knew the answer.

His heart broke as he heard the little Irish angel finally give way to tears on the other side of the door, pleading to the Father in a hoarse whisper to just make her feel a little bit better if it could possibly be in His plan.

The following morning, Andrew and Tess walked into their friend's hospital room, the younger of the two paying far more attention this time to the things his friend was not telling him. He had been hoping that perhaps last night had been the first night that she had been so sick, but he had a sick feeling that it was not.

"Good morning, baby," Tess smiled, watching as Monica sat up in bed and smiled.

Though the smile was forced, Monica held it in place as her two friends greeted her, "Good morning to you the two of you."

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" Andrew asked her gently after his friend had hugged Tess and he sat down on the side of her bed.

"Andrew, you ask me that every morning and the answer is still the same," She laughed, but he knew it was forced this time, "I'm all right, my friend, really."

Monica watched with confusion as her friend lowered his eyes briefly as if trying to hide something from her, before he finally looked back up and smiled at her, though his smile looked a little sad to her.

"I'm glad, honey," He replied softly, now knowing the truth that she had not been honest with him from the very start and he was sorely troubled to know why.