Happy Enough by SLynn

Disclaimer: Any character you recognize, not mine.

Notes: Just realized my goof. Amy mentions in this chapter where's she from. Originally I had it as Torrance, but I'd meant to put Fremont in the San Francisco area. Torrance in near LA. My bad.

Chapter 20: Reactions

Two hours after Nick and Sara left, Greg called the nurse. He couldn't stand the itching. He'd joked about it to ease his own mind, but it was past the point of joking now. He was disappointed when the on call nurse told him exactly what everyone else had said all night. "It's supposed to itch."

Another nurse might have taken some pity on him and at least applied a cortisone cream, but not this one. She'd been there the first night he'd arrived and had been subjected to some of his less then kind words. A little itch wouldn't kill him.

Greg wasn't sure how he'd gotten to sleep that night but had managed. The next morning his entire body felt sore. His arm was still pretty red, but didn't appear swollen so he thought it was probably fine. If anything the itching had only gotten worse, as now it was no longer a surface itch but felt as if the bone itself might need scratching.

Maggie arrived as early as she could. Jeff, Greg's dad, was flying in that afternoon. He hadn't been able to get away sooner. When the whole crisis originated he'd been in Japan and Maggie had insisted he stay. Normally he wouldn't have relented, but he wasn't sure he had wanted to see Greg so run down. He hadn't been sure he could handle it.

The morning nurse was much nicer then the night one. She wanted him to exercise more, at least walk the halls. Greg had balked at the idea until today. At first it was stubbornness that kept him in his room, then it was attire, but now that he had enough sweats and t-shirts from home it sounded like a good idea.

Before he could get going he had a visitor. Amy had come to see him. Greg didn't find it too odd that she came alone, although there was only his mother and Sara that had done it before. She'd apologized for interrupting and said she could come back later if it was inconvenient. Both Maggie and Greg had been warm in their objections and at Maggie's suggestion the two of them took a walk alone so that she could stay behind and write up lesson plans for the substitute teacher assigned to her class. Amy was happy to help.

Stopping at the nurses' station to find out exactly where they could go, they found they actually had a large area to roam. All she'd asked was that given the weather they stay indoors.

"Oh, I got you this," Amy said after a few moments silence. Greg hadn't even realized she'd been carrying anything. "It's a Cal Bears hat. I knew you went there so, surprise."

"Thanks," Greg said putting it on. "My head was getting cold."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Never thought I'd get a Berkley hat from a Stanford girl. I'm glad you've finally realized which is really the better of the two."

"Just because you couldn't get in…"

"No, no, no. I got into Stanford."

Amy looked up at him suspiciously.

"Okay, I could have gotten into Stanford if I'd applied, but I didn't want to go there. And could we not have this conversation around my mother, she's still heartbroken. She'll love you though, that's where she went."

"What about your dad?"

"U of San Fran."

"Nice."

"He thought so. I didn't want to go there either. Berkley was my own mini-rebellion against my parents since I knew they weren't going to let me leave the local area. I didn't even apply anywhere else so if I hadn't gotten in I'd probably be bagging groceries at Save Mart."

"I didn't know you grew up in the bay area. I'm from Fremont."

"No kidding, no wonder you could afford Stanford."

"I got a scholarship thank you very much."

"Sure you did."

Greg smiled at her knowing that despite her frown she hadn't taken any offense. Talking with Amy was easy. They had a lot in common and had worked together fairly closely when she'd first been hired on. After a few more minutes of banter they headed back.

Reluctantly Greg admitted he was tired and sat back down on his bed. The three of them talked for another half hour before Amy also admitted she was tired, having worked last night, and had to go get some rest.

"If you want I could come back tonight," she said casually as she got ready to go.

"Isn't it Friday?" he asked "You're not going out?"

"Okay, no I'm not but thank you for pointing out my obvious singleness. And besides, where would I go? I've lived here for five months and the only places I know of are casinos and strip clubs. Not exactly my taste."

"You should have told me sooner. I could have taken you around."

"Well, you won't be here forever," she said smiling at him.

"No, I won't."

"Good. I'm going to remember this conversation."

Greg nodded, feeling a bit uneasy with his mother in the room, but Amy hadn't been overtly asking him out. Had she?

"I'll see you later," she said as she waved goodbye. "Nice meeting you again Mrs. Sanders."

"You too Amy," Maggie said after her, smiling as she turned to her son.

"It's not like that," he said immediately knowing what was in her head.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but you have that look. That bridesmaids and tuxedos look that you get and that's not the case. Really she's new here and I'm practically the only person she knows."

Maggie continued to smile but said nothing more.

Later that day Greg had his second chemo treatment. This one was about the same, except the itching in his arm began to burn. He didn't say anything because he'd been told by Dr. Tracey that it was normal to have discomfort. Over the years he knew that doctors said discomfort when they meant excruciating pain, it sounded better that way. The ill feelings the drugs produced in him lingered longer this time round. He was still sweaty and nauseous by the time Amy came back that afternoon.

She'd brought a video, hoping they'd be able to watch it but seeing how bad off he was, didn't bother to bring it up. Maggie had been truly glad to see her because she hadn't wanted to leave Greg like this, but had to meet her husband at the airport.

Amy sat down next to him and tentatively put a hand to his forehead.

"Greg, you're really warm. Maybe I should call the nurse."

He was going to object but his chest and throat seemed to feel tight, almost like an asthma attack. His breathing was become labored, but it was happening so fast he couldn't even speak so he had to nod.

Amy didn't bother with the call button; instead she set off to the nurses' station at a jog. After notifying the nurse, she'd come back as quickly as she could. Greg was sitting up now, gasping for breath. He didn't seem to be having any luck as an audible wheeze could be heard from across the room.

"The doctor is coming," she said, trying to stay calm and coming over to the bed. She didn't know what she could do for him. "Try to slow your breathing."

Amy took his right hand in hers and put her left on his back.

"Slow deep breaths," she said again in a forced calm. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Greg was glad she'd been there. He'd started panicking just before as spots had danced in front of his eyes. He wondering briefly how in the hell she knew how to do this, but it didn't last long. The doctor had arrived.

"I'm Dr. Goodman, what seems to be the problem?"

Greg wanted to take the clipboard out of his hands and smack him right on the head. People really asked stupid questions sometimes. The problem should be obvious to a trained physician.

"He's having problems breathing," Amy said in a tone that clearly marked that her opinion of the man matched Greg's own.

"Okay," Dr. Goodman continued, "Second chemo dose was today; does your husband have a history of allergic reactions?"

"He's not…" Amy started and then quickly moved on. There wasn't time for contradictions. "Yes, he's asthmatic."

Dr. Goodman asked her to step aside for a moment as he looked Greg over. At this time a nurse and another doctor had joined them. Greg noticed that the spots had started coming back into his vision with more intensity, but he still couldn't speak. His hearing was becoming muffled too, like they'd stuffed cotton in his ears.

Everything seemed to have sped up. The doctors where moving in and out of his vision silently at a pace that didn't seem possible. As he'd wondered where Amy had gone it dawned on him that he must be lying down because he could see the ceiling now.

Real terror hit him as he knew what was happening. He wasn't just having trouble breathing now. Eyes still open, scared senseless as he looked from doctor to doctor to nurse, trying to pull anything into his lungs without success.

His lungs were screaming now as what felt like hours dragged on. He wanted to yell at the doctors to do something, but couldn't. Finally, the spots that had flared in his vision engulfed it entirely as he blacked out.

Greg had stopped breathing.