After Mary finished writing her letters, she went back to sleep. They actually didn't take her as long to write as she thought they would, and she was able to get in a decent amount of sleep before the alarm went off that Wilson had set for her. The sound rang throughout the room and she rolled out of bed, feeling worse than she had before. This definitely was not good.

Mary arrived at radiation, checked in, and waited for someone to bring her back to administer her treatment. She leaned her head against the palm of her hand and without meaning to fell asleep. George walked in the room about five minutes later. He saw her sitting there and said hello. When she didn't move, her bent down so that he could see her face better. Crouching down, he found that Mary was fast asleep. He gently shook her knee and her eyes opened.

"Hey sleeping beauty," he said to her as he stood. "It's time."

She groaned and stood up slowly, appearing to not be with it that day. George took notice of this but didn't say anything to her as he lead her back to the isolated room. He followed her inside and she sat on the table.

"Are you OK?" he finally asked. "You look pale."

"Not really," she said openly. "I don't feel very well; I haven't since yesterday morning."

"So your little nap in there…I just thought that you hadn't gotten a full night's rest or something. You know, Wilson tuckering you out."

Mary huffed and rolled her eyes at him. "Not quite. But he's not really helping. We got into this fight last night- actually I picked a fight with him, over something really stupid. And then I…never mind. I don't want to be talking about it."

"Did you two make up?"

"Yes, but I still feel bad about it." She sighed. "Being sick and fighting with him really isn't a good combination. It makes me feel worse."

George smiled sympathetically. "Well, I have an easy answer for you then: don't pick fights with your husband." Mary laughed sarcastically. "But you guys are newlyweds. You're bound to fight; it happens."

She smiled forlornly. "But it's not supposed to happen to us."

"Oh gosh," he commented. "I can't listen to any of this mushy stuff. I may be a doctor, but I am not a doctor of love- and for good reason, too. Now, undress so we can get started. If we talk any longer I'll be responsible for gumming up the works and I won't allow that to happen."

This time, her smile was genuine. "OK, OK, I'm undressing. Now go."

George walked out of the room and Mary undressed, placing the sheet over her to cover up her exposed body. George knocked on the door and walked back inside.

"You know what I was thinking about?" she said to him when he walked back in. "I'm Mrs. West and you're Mr. West. That's just creepy."

He laughed at her. "You have a strange mind. And besides, it's not creepy. I'm Dr. West, not Mr. West." She joined in the laughter with him. "But all kidding aside Mary, I wanted to tell you that I am going to be cranking up your radiation about half a notch, unless if you have a good enough reason to protest."

"I probably could muster one up," she told him as he finished positioning the machinery above her, "but I don't want my strange mind to interfere with my treatment. You just do what you think you should be doing George."

"All right then. An extra side of radiation for Mrs. West. You'll be done in twenty minutes."

He stepped back outside and the radiation started once again. When the machine started up, she could feel the medication hit her. She felt even worse in an instant, like being directly exposed to an entire roomful of chicken pox all at once. She didn't think that it could get any worse, but she was obviously wrong. Evidently her recent condition was only the tip of the iceberg.

Wilson arrived home that day and the house was quiet. He didn't see Mary around, so he just assumed that she was in bed. As he took off his jacket he contemplated his options. Since it was close to 6:15, he had two choices: make dinner that she probably wouldn't eat or skip the meal and get into bed with her now. That was an easy choice, seeing as Mary would win out over some pasta any day.

He changed into his pajamas, since he was not planning on getting out of bed until tomorrow morning, and crawled in next to his wife. He kissed Mary's forehead a few times, but she did not awaken. Instead of intentionally disturbing her slumber, Wilson wrapped his arms around Mary and held her close. Still, he did not interrupt her sleep. Several minutes later though, when she went to roll over, she crashed into Wilson's body and woke herself up.

"Hi honey," he whispered to her when her eyes opened.

"What time is it?" she asked as she rubbed her eyes.

"It's early." He kissed her cheek. "I just got home." Mary nodded. "How was your radiation?"

"Fine, but-"

"Have you been sleeping since you got home? Are you feeling any better?"

She smiled. Even though she was very tired, his interrogation was still very sweet. "Yes and no." She rolled her head onto his shoulder. He was so good to her, and so good for her. He was perfect in any way that a person could be and that was what she loved about him. She still felt bad about keeping her will from him. As she reflected upon it with her head on his chest, it seemed so stupid and petty to keep it to herself. But no matter how stupid it might be, she just couldn't bring herself to tell him about it. Mary decided right then and there that she was going to keep from him for good and to just move on. That would go under the "very strictly need to know" category in her mind.

Wilson held Mary tightly, beginning to feel slightly ambivalent. He had been thinking of Mary all day, and about her being sick, and he just didn't know what he should be doing anymore. He thought that he might talk to her about his anxiety, but she was always sleeping nowadays. They hardly ever spent that much quality time together and he was upset. He realized that it was not her fault, or his as he could see it, but he wanted to see her more.

While Wilson was thinking of all this and Mary was thinking of her problems, they both fell asleep early, still holding tightly onto one another for fear of what letting go would bring. They must have released each other at some point during the night, though, because Wilson woke up the next morning without Mary next to him. He went in to give her a morning kiss, but was only greeted with another set of pillows.

He got up to look for her, hearing sounds coming from the bathroom. He saw her slumped over the toilet, purging the entire contents of her stomach. He rushed over to her and pulled her hair off of her face. She wretched again when he touched her, leaning against the toilet for support. Wilson rubbed her back and after a few moments she got up and brushed her teeth.

Wilson made sure that he had his hands on her; he was afraid that she was going to pass out. She looked very pale and sickly, but not without good reason. She hadn't eaten in about thirty-six hours and the last few times her body forced her to puke, nothing that seemed like it could have ever been food came up- only a clear liquid came out.

With the aide of Wilson, Mary was guided back to bed. He tucked her back in and knelt down by her bedside, picking up her hand and holding it lightly and calmly. "How are you doing?"

Mary drew her knees into her chest, shuddering because her whole body ached. "Wilson," she mumbled desolately, not having the strength at the moment to answer him properly.

"You're worse, right?" She nodded. "Are you going to get better any time soon?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him radically. "I really don't know," she answered quietly, "but I hope so."

"Is there anything I can do for you honey?" She shrugged her shoulders and closed her eyes again. It was evident that she was still very tired. "You sleep," he instructed as he gently caressed her cheek. "I'll be right back."

Wilson went out of the bedroom and to the kitchen/living area of their apartment. He picked up the cordless phone from the cradle on the wall and dialed George's home telephone number, with complete disregard for the fact that it was not yet even six o'clock in the morning.

"Hello?"

"Mary's really sick," he said getting down to business.

"Good morning to you, too." George heard Wilson sigh and he knew Wilson was not kidding around. "How sick? Is she OK?"

"I don't know. She was throwing up a few minutes ago and she just looks so pale. I don't know what I should be doing for her or if she's going to be all right."

George sat up in his bed so that he would be able to give Wilson his undivided attention. "She'll be fine, unless she's telling you otherwise. Radiation makes you nauseous, and I know that she gets nauseous from it fairly easily, so that explains her throwing up. And as for her being pale that can be from a lot of different things, but I'm sure it's from the radiation. Actually she was pale when she came for it yesterday. She didn't look well then."

"Did you do something about it?"

"I asked her if she was OK, and she said that she was. People get sick from this Wilson. What was I supposed to do?" he said sounding slightly annoyed. Usually George was more cordial, but Wilson had interrupted his beauty rest.

"You're her doctor. She needs you to do something for her."

George rolled his eyes. "The only thing that she needs right now is you. Just…try to be there for her a little more often. Be nice to her and stuff. That'll probably help more than anything else will."

"Since when did you become an expert on women?"

"Since your wife keeps on spilling her guts to me," he said poking fun at Wilson. "You should be the one listening to that stuff, right?"

Wilson hung his head, and although George couldn't see it he heard it in Wilson's voice. "She's been sleeping all the time. There isn't even time to talk anymore. Whenever she's awake I'm working." Wilson hit himself in the head. "I forgot that Mary has to work today. I have to go; I have to call in sick for her. Thanks George."

"Wait a second," he said as Wilson was about to hang up the phone. "Did you just tell me that she's still working?"

"Yes," Wilson answered reluctantly.

"Why on earth is she still working Wilson? You have money. You have health insurance. Take care of your wife," George ordered. Obviously, Wilson needed him to whip things into shape. "Now put her on the phone. I want to talk to her."

Wilson walked into the bedroom and gave the phone to Mary. "George wants to talk to you," he said.

"What does he want?" she asked as she took the phone from him.

"I don't know." Wilson kissed Mary's forehead and she smiled. He smiled, too, but on the inside he was a lot less happy. He felt frustrated and annoyed that he wasn't as close with Mary as he wanted to be. They only thing that he wanted to was to know what she was going through and to be able to make everything better for her, but he couldn't. It was killing him. The fact that she was letting George in so easily was almost hurting him more.

"How bad are you? Do you need to come to the hospital?" he said in the most doctor-like fashion he could muster.

"No," she said. Wilson walked out of the room, giving her what little privacy she could have in the small apartment. Since he was gone, Mary was free to speak candidly about how she was feeling. She didn't want to talk about it in front of him so that he wouldn't worry about her unnecessarily, so she tended to keep to herself a lot. "I puked up just about everything in my stomach and I feel worse than I have ever felt in my entire life."

"It's the radiation," he explained to her. "I told you you were going to be getting sicker, and since we've increased how many times a week you receive your treatment and the strength of them you are going to get worse. But they good news is that you're probably just having a very bad day; you'll probably be having a couple of bad days. After a while it will get better though, trust me. If it doesn't, there will be some stuff we can try for you."

Mary groaned. "So you're telling me to buck up?"

"I'm telling you to hang in there," he clarified. "Put Wilson back on the phone. I'll call you later and check on you, OK?"

"All right," she said contentedly. "Thanks."

Mary called Wilson back and gave him the phone. George told Wilson to leave the cordless phone at Mary's bedside and that he was going to call her; Wilson should do the same. Wilson huffed but conceded. He didn't like how George was being so pushy, so he quickly ended the conversation before a fight ensued and he was late for work.

Wilson kissed Mary once more before he left for the office. "Are you going to be all right without me?"

"I'll be fine." She kissed him herself. "Now get to work. I love you."

Wilson wrapped his arms around Mary and held her securely. "I love you, too, Mary." There was no doubt in his mind. He did love her, but he was just going to have to try a little harder to gain her affection. That didn't bother Wilson much, though. He was never one to run from a little hard work.

A/N: I want to apologize for the extremely long interval between updates. There was school and midterms, and I updated my fanlistngs…but that is no excuse. And I'm even sorrier that, if you were waiting, you waited this long for such a sucky chapter. I don't even know what I am doing next chapter, but I think I have opened up another conflict now. There is going to be some sort of struggle for closeness; I can feel it.

Again, I am sorry for the wait, but reviews will make it all go faster.