"Hey there."

"Hey Connie," I greeted, draining the disposable coffee cup I held in my hand and threw it into the trashcan beside me.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, and fell into step with me as we entered the hospital, a big bunch of roses clutched in her hands.

"I'm ok."

"Are you lying?"

I nodded. "I'm trying to be ok."

We stopped at the elevators and I pressed up.

"Did they move him?"

I nodded. "Up to the cancer ward."

Connie shuddered involuntarily as the rickety carriage stopped and the doors slid open.

"It's so weird to see him in there. He seems to be doing better." We climbed in and rode the four floors up.

"How's he doing? Really?"

I shrugged. "He looks a lot better the ceftriaxone they have him on is keeping him comfortable, while the zithromaz and the anaprox is fighting the cancer from the inside."

Connie nodded at the elevator came to a stop and we stepped out onto the fourth floor. "I just can't believe this is all happening."

"You and me both."

As we walked down the hall, the dread that I felt every time I walked these halls took over me. It started as butterflies in my stomach, but progressed to shaky hands, sweaty palms and dry mouth.

"Ok," Connie said as we stopped outside the closed door to 4A.

"I can't go in there."

She looked at me. "Dakota, are you ok?"

I grabbed her arm. "Connie. It's so hard...I can't go in there..."

"Ok," she said, putting her arm around my waist and lead me away from the room. "We'll go sit in the cafeteria for a while." She led me down the other end of the hall where a small dining room was situated.

She sat me down at a table and sat down across from me.

"I'm sorry," I murmured softly, looking down at the chipped Formica table.

She reached across and patted my hand, her cold silver rings brushing over my knuckles. "Don't be sorry, Dee."

I took a shaky breath. "This is all so hard...I love him, Connie."

"I know you do."

I looked up at her and smiled. "Remember the first game you guys ever played as the varsity team at Eden Hall?"

Connie nodded. "After playing at the Goodwill Games, we thought we could play anywhere, but gearing up for that game was the scariest."

"Adam came up to me before the game and told me say a prayer for him." I took a deep breath. "I told him I wouldn't, that he didn't need it. So I didn't say a prayer, none at all. And after the game he came up and asked if I said one. When I said no, he smiled and told me I was his prayer." Tears rolled down on my cheeks, landing on the cracked table ceremoniously.

"Oh Dakota," Connie breathed, getting up and moving to the chair next to me to throw her arms around my shoulders.

"I just can't do this Connie. I can't accept that he's going to be gone, I want to spend the rest of my life with him, and he's going to die!" I buried my face in her shoulder and sobbed, my shoulders shaking with raw emotion, my throat hoarse.

"Shh," Connie soothed, smoothing my hair. "Just let it out, Dee."

I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. "I'm sorry," I apologized again, lifting my head from Connie's shoulder.

She shook her head. "Say that once more I'll take you down.

I smiled a watery smile. Scary thing is, she probably could. "I want to see him."

"Make up your mind," she joked.

I sighed. "I know. It's hard. Do I really want to see him?"

"Dakota, only you know that."

"You go ahead," I told her. "I just want to sit here alone for a bit."

She nodded and got up and fetched her flowers and left the dining room.

I sat in the cafeteria alone, silent. I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted to be surrounded by normal. Even though that was practically impossible sitting in a cancer ward cafeteria.

"This seat taken?"

I looked up to where the deep voice had come from and smiled, a genuine smile.

"Jesse Hall," I greeted, and gestured to the chair opposite me.

He sat down. "Dakota Reed. Or should I say Dr Dakota Reed."

I shrugged. "You can call me that if you want."

He smirked and lifted his close fist. I bumped it back with mine. Jesse bought out the ghetto in me.

"What are you doing with yourself?" I asked him, resting my chin on my palm.

He shrugged. "This, that and the other. Working my ass off to pay for college."

"Haven't you graduated?"

Jesse nodded. "Yes, Dr Dee. But the bills don't disappear just because I got a degree. In fact, I think they multiple."

I smiled. "You're getting lots of work at the garage aren't you?"

"Yeah. I start my job with Wallace and Webster next month."

"Good for you," I told him. "Jesse Hall, lawyer extraordinaire. How's Terry doing?"

"Not quite extraordinaire," he amended with a laugh. "And Terry's doing great. Second year at NYU, doing graphic design. I swear, that kid was born with a computer attached to his hands."

I gave a small smile and ran my finger along a long crack on the table.

"Question?" Jesse asked.

I nodded.

I'd known Jesse for as long as I'd known most of the other Ducks, except I'd always had a connection with him, he was a great friend.

"How is he, really?"

"He's ok," I answered with a sigh.

Jesse gave me a wry look. "So that's why you're sitting all alone in the cafeteria, looking like you're going to cry?"

"Pretty much."

He rolled his eyes. "You pathetic, girl." He stood up and reached out his hand, which I took gratefully, and let him pull me up.

I wrapped my arm around his waist as we walked slowly down the hall towards Adam's room.

"You ok?"

I nodded. "You ok?"

Jesse smiled. "As long as you're ok."

I gave Jesse an impulsive hug. "Let's go."

I pushed the door to 4A open and put on a brave face.

"Hey you," I said to Adam, adrenaline running through my veins. "Look at what I found wandering the halls."

Jesse stepped into the room and Adam smiled.

"Hey cake eater," Jesse greeted, walking over to the bed to lean down and hug Adam.

"Hey," Adam returned with a smile, looking noticeably less pale than the day before. "I was just talking to Connie about you."

"Nothing bad I hope," Jesse said as he gave Connie a hug and sank down into the orange plastic chair beside her.

I stood at the edge of the private room, my eyes scanning it.

Adam had been moved upstairs just that morning, to a private, much nicer room. The walls were painted a pale blue, and there were framed photographs on the wall of sunsets and the ocean.

The room had it's own bathroom and kitchenette.

"Dakota?"

I looked up at Adam. "Yeah?"

"Come sit." He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of his bed to Jesse and Connie.

I moved over and sat down, inching my chair forward so I could hold Adam's hand.

"I was telling Dee how Terry is doing graphic design..." Jesse said to Connie, but I tuned out.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Adam, running my thumb absently over the back of his hand.

"Good, actually. I feel a lot stronger today. I even got to get out of bed to shower before."

I smiled. "Good to hear. I was talking to Dr. Marks, the resident in chief this morning, and if he said if all goes well, you'll be able to go home with a private nurse."

"That'd be nice," Adam said softly. "I just want to be back in my own bed."

I reached up and brushed his newly washed hair out of his face. "You're doing good, Ads."

"Because you're here."

"Good morning!" Fulton boomed as he entered the suite, followed by Charlie, Averman, Goldberg and Portman.

"Hi," Connie greeted and accepted a hug from Charlie before he sat down.

I stood up and pushed my chair towards Fulton. He gave me a curious look but took the chair and sat down, and I inched my way out of the room.

I found a bench in the hallway and sank down gratefully, glad to be out of the room. I didn't know how they could all be so happy when Adam was dying.

I put my head in my hands and pushed my hair out of my face and tried to breathe calmly. It felt like my throat was closing up, that I was dying with him. Because I knew, deep in my heart, that when dies, I'd die to.

"Hello Dakota."

I looked up at Melanie Banks and offered a smile. She sat down next to me.

"How are you doing, dear?"

Mrs. Banks has called me 'dear' for as long as I can remember.

"I'm not good," I answered truthfully. If there was anyone who could possibly understand my pain, it was Adam's mom.

She wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. "I'm sorry, dear."

"You shouldn't be sorry," I told her. "I should be. This isn't affecting me as much as it is you, I'd assume."

"I'm losing a son," she said softly. "But I've been losing him for the last two years. You've been losing him for the past two days."

I bit my quivering lip. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just don't want to believe he's leaving."

Mrs. Banks squeezed my shoulder. "I just spoke to Dr. Marks. We're taking Adam home this afternoon. After his chemo session."

I smiled. "That's so good. I'm glad he gets to go home."

She nodded. "Yes, it'll be much more comfortable for all of us, I'd imagine."

We sat in silence, watching the nurses and orderlies rush up and down the halls, consumed in our own thoughts.

"Mrs. Banks? What does it feel like? To lose a son?"

She drew in a shaky breath, which was the closest thing I'd ever seen to Melanie Banks falling apart. "It feels like a dream, a practical joke. Like it's not real. In some ways, it feels like he's already gone. But I hold onto the hope that the chemo will work. That's all I have left."

It was my turn to wrap an arm around her waist. "I'm so sorry."

She smiled and shook her head. "I'd always hoped you'd be my daughter-in-law someday."

"I'd always hoped that too. But I guess I can marry Daniel if you want me to."

Mrs. Banks laughed, a hollow sound, but a laugh nonetheless. "I wouldn't subject you to that, sweetheart."

"I think I'm gonna go home," I told her softly. "I need to sleep."

She nodded and stood up. "Good idea. You get some rest. Come by the house this afternoon if you feel up to it."

I nodded and was taken aback when Mrs. Banks reached out and pulled me into a hug.

"Take care of yourself," I whispered in her ear and let go. "Tell Adam I said goodbye."

I walked away from Mrs. Banks and waited at the elevators, thoughts whirring around in my head.

I sighed and collapsed down on my bed, burying my face in my pillows. I hugged my favourite pillow to my chest and stared out my window. The same window Adam had climbed through countless times before.

But it was different now. I knew Adam wouldn't be climbing back through my window ever again.

I rolled onto my back and looked up at my ceiling, trying to decipher the jumble of thoughts in my mind. But it was useless, I couldn't form a single thought, my mind was compacted with images of Adam.

Adam at the Goodwill Games, Adam at his 13th birthday party, Adam's expression when Charlie, Fulton, Portman, Connie, Guy and I got caught TP-ing the bronze statue at Eden Hall, the way Adam looked at the senior prom, like a prince. All I could think of was Adam.

The way his hair hung in his face after a shower, the way he frowned when he was concentrating really hard, his smile, his eyes, his heart. The way he used to know everything, so if I ever needed help with my physics homework, he'd know how to help.

Adam was an institution in my world, he was my reason for living some days. And other days, he was my reason for wanting to die. He made me feel good just by the way he'd look at me. And in those looks, I'd see our future. But now when he looks at me, I see everything I could possibly miss. Our wedding, and our two kids, and our house on Lake Minnetonka. I see a void, an uncertainty.

My heart was slowly breaking, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.