When Wilson arrived back at his parents home that night, he was surprised to find his brother, George, playing with his son. When Billy saw his father, he walked over to him and his face lit up like a candle on a birthday cake. He looked up to Wilson in more ways then could be counted, and most of the time Wilson didn't know what he had done to deserve such a great son. Upon further reflection, basically everything in his life right now was great- with the exception of all but two things. His parents being one, and Mary being the other. He couldn't get Mary out of his mind. All he kept thinking was…something he shouldn't be thinking. He always seemed to jump to the worse case scenario, scaring himself in the process.

He was so shaken up over Mary's poor health that he had to do something about it. If he left himself to his thoughts he would go crazy with anxiety and fearfulness for someone who still held her own little place in his heart. Wilson pulled George aside, determined to squeeze out any information he could about Mary from him.

"I can't tell you anything. Patient-doctor confidentiality. That goes against just about every doctor rule in the book."

"So? I'm your brother," Wilson said, although he knew George would need more convincing.

"So what? Just because we are related doesn't mean I can discuss Mary Camden with you." Wilson sighed heavily, saddened by his lack of information. This made George curios. "Why is she so important to you though? I don't get it Wilson."

"Mary and I dated for four and half years, not continuously. We were engaged, kind of…we almost got married. I've known her since she was only fourteen. We used to be so close."

"Why didn't you say so?" he said to Wilson, his tone of voice completely changing. He sounded almost astonished that Wilson used to be so serious with Mary and that George never really knew about her.

"You'll tell me something?"

George sighed. He knew that he shouldn't be doing this, but Wilson sounded desperate. It wasn't like Wilson was some psycho, either, and the two of them were very close. It was all that wrong. "Depends. What do you want to know?"

Wilson looked down at the floor and was quiet for a few minutes before being able to voice the one question he had been asking himself over and over for days now. "Is she going to die?"

George turned serious. "Well, that's really hard to say. Cancer affects everyone differently. She hasn't started any treatment though, and that is pretty much a deciding factor on how things are going to go." George was frank with Wilson, "Basically, she'll either be pretty much OK, or not too good. And, if you want a sincere answer, this is when women get this type of cancer- generally when they are in Mary's age group. But…"

"But what?" Wilson said, scared for his brother to finish his sentence.

"Any type of cancer, though, at that young of an age, is not the best thing- I'm sure you know that. Cancer when you're old is like your body shutting down or malfunctioning after so many years of use; there is more of a reason behind it. Cancer in your twenties is unexplainable in a scary kind of way."

"So she's not going to make it?" he asked sullenly.

"I didn't say that. She has a tough road ahead of her, but she seems like someone who can handle it. Besides, she is in good health everywhere else, so she has a better chance of beating it." Wilson looked almost optimistic, and George frowned. He didn't want to give his brother false hope. "She has a good chance Wilson, but cancer is still cancer. There is no way of getting around that."

***

A few days later, Mary had yet another one of her many appointments with Dr. George. No examination was going on today, but rather they were talking in the "discussion" room. After all, that was what the room was there for. Dr. George had become accustomed to having these types of appointments for his patients every so often. He knew that if he were diagnosed with cancer, it would be almost impossible to cope, so he scheduled appointments for them to talk about things often. It was more like a mental breath of fresh air, at least in the philosophical sense.

These meetings also allowed George to get inside of his patient's head and see what they were really thinking about him and their illness, besides getting better acquainted with one another in general. One thing he took away from his medical training was that being mentally prepared was almost half the battle. If his patients weren't thinking correctly, or thinking "healthy", then everything would be much harder on everyone- family, friends, themselves, and him. No one liked unnecessary roughness.

His appointment with Mary was more of a combination appointment. Part of it was for the mental evaluation; the other was to discuss her impending treatment. You never just had cancer and did not do anything about it. There was always treatment, and the treatment was what everyone was afraid of. It was not the disease that was painful, but everything that it entailed.

"So," George said trying to make friends with his patient, "you seem to be doing OK on the outside. You don't appear to be depressed or any of the normal stuff."

Mary laughed. "I can promise you that I am not depressed. But, I'm not all that wonderful. I mean, I feel just fine, but on the inside it's a mess."

Dr. George cocked his head. "Why is that?"

"Because this has all changed my life so much. But then again, maybe it hasn't changed my life. This is just yet another thing to add to my list of things I've hidden from everyone." Mary bit her tongue as soon as those words came out of her mouth. She didn't want to tell him that she had not yet told her family. Mary didn't need any more undue pressure to divulge the secret inside of her to every warm-blooded Camden walking the earth.

"Well, cancer is a hard thing to deal with, especially when you have your whole life ahead of you. But," he said clasping his hands, "it is not the death sentence that you might think it is. Let's talk about treatment."

"Let's not," she joked.

He laughed at her, like many other people did. Not only was she nutty, but she was witty, too, and not as unintelligent as everyone might perceive her as being. Everyone, that is, except for the brothers West and the spawn of the younger one. "With your early stage of cervical cancer, I want to go with radiation therapy- it's a very effective treatment especially for cases similar to yours. Now, you'll have to be treated every four or five days- five for our initial test run, weekends and everything. Even if I am not here, a nurse will be and they can administer it for you. The whole process will only take a few minutes, and it will be external."

Mary nodded the entire time, but the last thing George said caught her attention. "External? As opposed to…" she let her sentence drop, allowing him to fill in the blank himself. He did so and nodded at Mary. She made a face that was priceless and indescribable, and George laughed at her again. "Yeah, you are nowhere near at that point so I'll be nice and won't go into it. So, does that sound OK to you?"

"I guess so. It doesn't sound to painful or anything."

"Speaking of painful, would you care to know the side effects?" She told him that she would, just like he had expected. "Most commonly, patients don't have too much of a problem with radiation. After the first two or three weeks you'll start getting tired, and it will gradually get worse, possibly to the point where you can't work or really do much of anything. The other thing is loss of appetite. Not completely, just enough to notice some sort of a difference."

She shook her head affirmatively. "That doesn't sound all that bad."

"Honestly, it's not, but that is just the general side effects from radiation," he explained.

"Oh," Mary responded quietly, allowing him to continue.

"Due to the sensitive area we would be working on…usually women experience tenderness and are inflamed even for several weeks after treatment. And…" Mary's eyes started to get wide; George knew he was scaring her and decided to stop. "But, we haven't started yet so you don't need to worry about any of that now do you? Besides, I'm going to take good care of you. Don't worry."

Even though she was still scared, Mary knew that he meant it. She could tell by looking at Dr. George that he would do everything in his power to ensure that she was healthy and received the best care. For a fraction of a second, Mary was happy. "Thank you."

"Don't mention. You're my patient; it's my job to look out for you. Now, any questions?"

"Just one," she said. "You said I wouldn't be able to work. I have to work. I need health insurance and money for food."

"Medical disability?"

"I took the job after I found out I was sick. It's a little Mom and Pop type bookstore thing, and I've only been working there for about a month."

George sighed. "I don't know what to tell you then. Talk to your employer if you are that concerned, maybe you can work something out. That probably won't be for at least another month, so you have some time to think about all of that."

Mary's face was again sad. "Well, thanks again."

"Like I said before, you're more than welcome. Now if you would be so kind as to make an appointment for sometime later in the week for the radiation I would appreciate it." Mary agreed to do as she was asked. "And if you have any questions Mary, I am in the office a lot. Please don't hesitate to contact me. I realize that this is a lot to swallow in one sitting. And, if you want," George handed her his business card, "you can call me at home. The number's right on there."

Mary smiled appreciatively and exited the room. George watched her as she left before sinking down in his brown leather desk chair. There were not many occupations where you dealt with life and death situations day in and day out. They were few and far between, just like gentlemen as kind and handsome as the young West men were. With what Wilson had told him the other night, he felt a very personal connection to Mary, just as she did with him. He didn't feel like that with any of his other patients, and that made him promise himself to concentrate as much energy as he possibly could into Mary. With himself as her doctor, there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that Mary Camden was going to survive cervical cancer.

A/N: Well, I am definitely out of my rut, at least temporarily. Next chapter may be soon, may be not, I'm not all that sure yet. I don't quite know where I am taking this. I have an end without a middle.

Anyways, again, I have to make my statement: I know nothing about anything. However, I did do research on this, a lot of it as a matter of fact. So, most of the stuff in here is pretty factual- health-wise. Anyway, I doubt that I would actually have a gynecologic oncologist reading this, so it should be sufficient enough. But, if you do happen to be one, feel free to correct me.

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