Note: To Bofbanoff Special J at Twop. They also recommend my fic and it makes me smile.

To Christine, who I can count on to give me the biggest review and which I positively LOVE! I have a feeling you wont let me down this time either!

PS: Princess Oats 435 has a story out called Such Great Heights - if you havent read it you should, cause it just seriously freakin rocks,but there is a scene that is similar to one in here, and I wanted to make sure that I sweaaaaaaaaaar on my life I did not steal any scenes what-so-ever. They're similar but when dealing with little kids, its kinda hard not to bring up the nightmare scene thing cause they're so damn adorable. Besides she knows Im like her huge advid fan, lol.

SO. like I said, Review Kids! Vamanos!

-

"Do you think our love can do miracles?"

"I do."

"They didn't agree on much. In fact they rarely agreed on anything. They fought all the time and they challenged each other everyday... But in spite their differences, they had one important thing in common, they were crazy about each other."

-The Notebook.

-

"Without suffering there would be no compassion."

"Yeah, well tell that to those who suffer."

­-A Walk to Remember

-

The pitter-pat of bare feet echoed softly down the hall. The door peeked open and a tinge of dimly lit light rushed in.

"Mama?"

Kirsten was stretched on her left side, Sandy's warm protective arm around her stomach, his head buried into her back, against her shoulder blade.

Silence.

She cast her curious blue eyes to the dark hallway before whispering louder, "Mama?"

Kirsten stirred slightly and opened her eyes to meet the inquisitive frightened stare of her child.

She shifted and leaned up on her elbow, "Hey baby-girl, what's wrong sweetie?" She reached out and tucked the rush of blond hair back behind her ears.

"Bad dream," she whimpered closing her eyes against her mothers reassuring touch. Nobody bad was coming in here.

Sandy felt his wife shift as the movement had awakened him and then he heard Allie say, "Bad dream."

Never hesitating for a second he leaned up and pulled the blanket away from their bodies. A cool rush of air prickled his skin. "C'mon La niña ala Bella," he whispered sleepily making room for his baby-girl and using her middle name. Bella meant beautiful in Latin and Sandy fell in love with it when they were looking for names. She chose Alexandria, he chose Bella, and then on occasion he combined them both in a small nickname and in this case the meaning for little girl in Spanish combined with her middle name. Sandy seemed to call their daughter everything but Alexandria, unless she had done something wrong.

He smiled groggily as she climbed over her mother and lay between them, Kirsten lying down and Sandy getting himself situated.

Kirsten now laid on her right side, and Sandy his left so they faced each other. Allie faced her father, her back pressed tightly up against her mothers, reveling in her security and warmth that she provided. Kirsten placed a protective arm across her daughter and held her closely against her, silencing the small tremble that wanted to erupt.

Sandy covered them both and when he finally settled again he felt her small hand find his, while she wrapped it around his pinky finger. He leaned up and kissed her forehead tenderly and whispered, "It's okay baby-girl, go to sleep. We're here."

She pulled his hand tightly to her chest so that she could feel both her parents' joined security. He watched her tired blue eyes flutter before she drifted off to sleep in the shelter of her parents. He smiled as he gazed at his wife tucking her head down against their little girls shoulder. He found himself listening to their steady breathing, making sure everything was okay before he let sleep overtake him.

-

He woke up with a stiff neck from leaning against the wall.

Five days.

It had been five days since she had screamed at him to leave. "Get out Sandy! JUST GO!"

It had been five whole days since she had seen him consciously. He would sneak in her room when she was sleeping, he couldn't be away from her. Not now, not ever.

His color was pale, his dull and lifeless eyes could only gaze adorningly at her, his heart hammering every single second as he sat on edge if she was to wake up and start yelling at him to "Get out, JUST GO," that he could shuffle quietly out the door. But she hadn't, she never woke when he was there.

The other night she had been moaning his name in her sleep, apologizing softly, tossing and turning in her bed. Her forehead was covered in perspiration and she was again feverish. He pulled up a chair beside her bed and took her hand in his, amazed at the size in contrast. Her hand was smooth, delicate, her fingers long and graceful, her hand was always warm and comforting when she placed it in his. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, "Relax honey, I'm here," and she quieted under his touch. But he was gone when she woke up, and she thought she dreamed it.

So instead he sat here in the early hours of the morning, on the cold floor watching her. He watched as she moaned in her sleep, as wince of pain fluttered across her face. He watched as her hand ran over her face and wiped the sweat away and her arm covered her eyes from the painful light. He looked at his watch, she would be waking soon, and he didn't want to distress her further than she already had been.

She was coming home today, and he would be there, whether she liked it or not.

-

Jimmy Cooper sat down at the beach, simply starring at the dark churn of the water. It was amazing the way that water had an effect on people. The depths churned blue and green, the waves crashing over themselves with fuzzy foam, as it reached up on the beach for peoples ankles and then just as quickly washed away stealing sand, seashells, anything in its grasp. It was easy to forget how unforgiving the ocean was, like life, if it wasn't respected it would show you how powerful it could really be.

The ocean held power over life and death. It could be forgiving and release you letting you live, or it could take you quietly screaming down to your death.

Sandy's words haunted him. "You had a past Jimmy. HAD, It's past tense. She now has cancer, and she's pregnant with OUR second child. That's her future, Jimmy."

It waspast tense. Had. You HAD a past. The word was a past participle of have. If he was talking to Kirsten he could have simply said, "We have a past." But instead it was to Sandy and therefore the man said the word, HAD.

"That's her future Jimmy. Her future. Jimmy, that's her future. I'm in love with him, Jimmy, not you him, that's her future Jimmy. With him."

It's kind of like saying it and then dismissing the past without a second thought. Sure, they had a past and now you have a friendship.

"Friendship can turn into love. But love, to friendship – never." That was a good true quote, he thought to himself.

It was true, being friends with Kirsten was better than being nothing at all, but he wanted her, he still did, he always would.

To her their affair would have simply been the past – "It's been had," as Sandy would counter. But to him, it lived on still in his heart and memory and now faced with this new set of trials.

'God, life sucks sometimes,' he mused while taking a swig of beer. 'Just plain sucks.'

That had been his motto when things ended with Kirsten.

The times she had said, "I love you Jimmy," with that smile that could dazzle the world. He thought those times would last forever. He smirked; he had been so stupid back then.

Kirsten

She didn't deserve the pain she was in right now. No one with cancer deserved the pain they were in.

Jimmy tipped his bottle to the ocean and drank to that.

-

Ryan sat at the kitchen in the early hours with a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. He leaned on the counter where Sandy normally mused with Kirsten and Seth talked. Lately no one talked. Any minute now Sandy would walk through the doors of the house coming home from the hospital. He would look like hell, his hair falling down across his face, a new mornings stubble gracing his cheeks.

Ryan wasn't born yesterday.

He knew about the fight, it was evident upon Sandy's pale face. It was even more evident when he babbled about it in his drunken state, and then looked at Ryan with sorrowful eyes, "I shouldn't be doing this to you, you've had enough of this shit, and I'm sorry Ryan. I'm sorry I couldn't have been there, before you came to us, I'm sorry you had to go through everything, and now this."

The house had been full of apologies lately but even Ryan didn't know how to respond to that. "It's okay Sandy."

He pulled a blanket up over the older mans chest so at least he wouldn't freeze to death because he was shivering, now whether it was from the alcohol in his system with the increased blood flow to the surface of his bodythat lowered his body temperature or whether he was just shivering with memories.

Ryan suspected both.

Sandy hadn't slept in his own room since Kirsten was taken to the hospital that had been close to two weeks ago.

Sandy had taken a liking to alcohol in the past few days, not being a full-fledged drunk, but enough to numb the pain, enough to try to make him forget the horrible images in his head, the awful words and thoughts that scorched his brain.

The door opened and Sandy stumbled though it looking like he had been through a war and back.

Ryan held out a cup of coffee that he had poured for him.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Silence.

"So she's coming home today?" He asked quietly.

Sandy nodded, the rumpled hair on his head falling down with the movements.

"Have you two made up?" There had been an obviously painful answer to that.

He shook his head, 'No.'

Ryan pursed his lips and nodded. "I see."

Sandy stared out the window and Ryan looked at the floor. It wasn't an awkward silence it was just disheartening. No one knew what to expect.

-

The day was depressing; the outside world was a foggy gray. Once Sandy convinced the boys to go into the parlor there was no turning back. So they stood there. In the beautiful clad funeral home, they stood there.

Gorgeous piles of flowers lay sprawled upon the places; some people had taken to buying quilts with Jesus, and Virgin Mary on them, along with other holy images.

Lilies, roses, daffodils, gorgeous rushes of reds, yellows, whites, pinks, and purples greeted their eyes. The flowers were almost to much.

They were from various places, Julie, Caleb, the Newport Group, Jimmy, Marissa, Summer, and pretty much everyone else who knew her. Hell the whole town had shown up when they read the paper that flashed a headline something like this, 'Daughter of Caleb Nichol, Kirsten Cohen, passed away.

The casket was closed and great white Lilly's were sprawled lazily over the casket, sculpting it with pink and red roses.

There were pictures of her throughout the room, a huge gorgeous portrait of her decorated by the casket, and surprisingly someone had blown up the chrismukkah card and set it near the casket. Ryan, suspected that was Julie Cooper-Nichol's doing.

So they stood and waited for everyone to show up. Sandy was first, then Seth, then Ryan and finally Caleb taking up the rear.

Sandy cast a sorrowful glance around the room. He felt sick, the collar was to tight and if Kirsten were here she would smile at him and loosen his tie enough so that he still looked appropriate. But she wasn't here. She would never be here again.

He shifted on his feet uncomfortably his palms were sweating and again he fussed at his tie. Ryan looked at the floor and refused to meet anyone's eyes. Seth, was just Seth in his bummed out stage, his arms to gangly for the rest of his body, any self confidence he once had was tossed out the door today.

She would never fuss over his tie again, Sandy realized, startled. The simplest things mean so much and he could never have that again.

The funeral directors opened the doors.

"Here we go," Seth mumbled.

Ryan looked up sharply and swallowed, he wasn't ready for this.

First came the Newpsie's, all dressed in black, and they expressed their condolences, Sandy was sure they were fake, but it wasn't his main concern.

Then Jimmy wondered through, taking in the room with sweeping eyes. He looked miserable as if he spent the whole night awake.

Sandy met his eyes and instead of the handshake he was expecting Jimmy pulled him into a hug. When he pulled back Jimmy had tears in his eyes and that made Sandy's eyes water.

"I loved her Sandy, I always did. She was a wonderful woman."

Sandy gave him a grim smile, and politely said, "Thank you." He watched as Jimmy moved down the line to Seth, Ryan and Caleb.

Julie then came next and Sandy was surprised that she had tears. Ice-queen Cooper he once nicknamed her, now cried on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Sandy. I know you and I haven't seen eye to eye in the past, but Kirsten was probably my only friend in this stupid town. My only true friend," she smirked softly shaking her head.

It's funny how death changes things, changes the way people think, and see things, the way they act.

"Thanks Julie." He was on autopilot. Thanks. It was all he could muster and if everyone kept coming up to him with tears he wasn't going to make it through this.

"I'd like to stop over and keep seeing the baby, if that's okay with you?" She was genuine when it came to the baby. She had actually been over the house a lot lately.

"Sure Julie that would be great," he said somberly. His little Alexandria Bella. Or when he said it, it rolled over his tongue and came out Alexandria ala-Bella. The first time her name rolled off his lips Kirsten smiled and so did his daughter. So he kept it.

He smiled at the thought of his little girl.

Julie was never one to just stop over unless there was a reason, until the baby. Well, she had been stopping over a lot when Kirsten was sick too. Maybe she just wanted to hold on to what little she had left of Kirsten. What little they all had left of her.

Marissa followed suit with her mom and said the tearful goodbyes to the group before going to sit down waiting for the service to start.

After that came, Jeff Smith, Macy Little, John Block, and Erin Palmer, people who worked at the Newport Group.

And then Summer.

That's when Sandy lost it. Seeing Summer and when she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck he couldn't contain his tears any longer. Summer was there with them the whole time, though it all the pain and the tears. She was there when they broke down, and eventually it just came to be that Summer was a part of their family. Kirsten made sure of that. They just accepted that at dinner she would be there, or at movie night, she would be there. Her smart-ass comments kept the family on their toes and she was what they needed.

-

Even when the end had come and Sandy was on the opposite side of her holding on to her hand, Kirsten reached out for Summer and gazed upon her.

"Hey honey."

Summer's bottom lip trembled.

"Hey Kirsten," she whispered back unable to contain the tears that dripped down.

"Awe baby, don't cry. You'll be okay, you'll see sweetie."

"How?" She sighed through her tears, how would they all be okay?

Kirsten said nothing but she managed to lean up enough to kiss Summer on the forehead. "I love you sweetheart, I always have," she swallowed. "And I'm glad that I got to know what it was like to have a daughter."

Sandy looked away at that point, glancing to Seth who wouldn't meet his gaze, and to Ryan who had taken a great interest in his hands.

The words tore at her heart as Summer sniffled and gave a weak smile, her words caught in her throat. Her brown eyes already filled with tears and she stared into Kirsten's beautiful fearless gaze.

"Take my little girl shopping okay?"

She nodded through her tears. "I will."

Her hand tightly clenched on to Kirsten's and she laid back on the pillow again. "I love you baby."

Summer managed to find her voice as she whispered, "I love you too."

Summer was going to go when Sandy's voice boomed, "Stay Summer, your family."

And so she did.

-

Now she held on to him because he was the only person who could make it better. He was the one person who knew how badly it hurt. Her body shook against his and he tightening his grip upon her until he felt her calm down.

He did what Kirsten would have. "I love you Sum, like you were my own. Come stand with us, because you're family."

She smiled grimly, and wiped the tears away as much as she could before taking her place between Sandy and Seth.

The line continued.

-

Kirsten groaned in her sleep. Waking up she saw two Seth's leaning over her with a cool cloth. At first she thought it was Sandy.

She blinked, once, twice. The two Seth's cleared into one.

"Thanks sweetie."

Seth smiled, "Excited to come home today mom?"

She smiled weakly, "It will be nice to come home Seth."

He settled in the chair, "Have you talked to dad?"

She flushed, "No," her voice was stony, but far away as if she wished she would have talked to him.

He just looked at her blankly almost at a loss for words. "So what did the doctor say?" He asked with a raise of his brows changing the uncomfortable subject.

"That I'm good to go, that he respects my decision. Next week there's going to be some tests, and such to see how far things' are along. That's when I'm going to make more informed decision, and see about chemo, later on"

He nodded. What do you say when your mother is almost giving you the time limit on how long she is going to live?

"I'm going to take a few more days off and then I'm going back to work."

Seth had a shocked look on his face. "That's good right?"

She smiled, "No sense in sitting around Seth. I'm not dead yet."

He cracked a smile with her but the comment didn't go unnoticed in his head, it auto-replayed I'm not dead yet. Yet.

Yet.

-

She gingerly climbed in Rover the heat from the leather seats warmed her icy body. She shivered amongst the heat, as the icy chill slowly left.

She quickly wiped away the perspiration from her forehead from the effort of walking to the truck. She was going to have to learn to deal with the weakness if she expected to go back to work and have a semi normal routine.

Seth opened the back hatch of the vehicle, putting in her things that had accumulated over the past week.

The doctor had given her nausea medication, which was good, painkillers that could be taken with the pregnancy, which was also good because as of right now, the gnomes were slowly coming back with their pitchforks raised.

She leaned her head against the window of the Rover, sighing. Time to face the music, time to face her husband whom she kicked out of her room because she was too scared to admit that she needed him, when he had come with an apology and all he wanted to do was support her.

So she pushed him away. And from what she heard from the boys' visits it wasn't sitting well. But neither one spilled their guts that he sneaked into her room at night. Neither one would deny him that privilege.

The world began to move as Seth put the SUV into drive. She closed her eyes if the world went by to fast she might get ill.

She didn't want Seth to see her like that.

-

Sandy didn't know what to do, whether to stay or go, or come in late.He abided on staying and simply sat on the couch.

He waited.

Then he stood. He looked around the room. Then he sat down again. After that he walked to the front door and waited.

He opened it when they pulled up but he never said a word. He cast her a distressed glance but he kept his mouth shut. Her tired blue eyes met his quickly and she saw how badly she hurt him. But he saw in her eyes exactly how badly she was hurting too. Too stubborn for either one to say anything, they passed by each other in stony silence.

So he said nothing, just shut the door and followed Seth and his wife into the house. He wordlessly took the bag from Seth's hands and began to walk up the steps.

As Seth would say, "Holy Awkward."

-

She walked up the steps as Seth watched expecting a full-fledged argument but there was none. It was silent and Seth didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

She walked into the room and gently eased herself on the bed as he came out of the closet. He was slightly shocked to see her and it showed upon his face and his rigid stiff body.

He froze like a deer stuck in headlights with the horn blowing.

He waited for her to yell at him to 'Get out, or to move, or what are you doing?'

But there was only quiet.

He edged slowly out of the room and kept his head down like a beaten puppy. He sidestepped the bed and walked out the door, not saying one word.

She only sighed, and put a weak arm over her tired eyes. She was too tired to argue.

Sleep would eventually get to her.

-

She awoke with severe back pain and an achy sweat over her body. Her stomach churned and lurched and she swore silently to herself as she realized that she forgot to take some of the nausea medication the doctor prescribed and she was now going to pay for it dearly. Debating on whether she should haul her aching body out of bed now and sit by the toilet, or do what had become her new routine which she nicknamed "Rushing."

"Rushing" entailed waiting until the last possible moment and literally rushing to the bathroom and making barely on time.

"Rushing" was her least favorite thing to do because it entailed uncertainty, like what if she didn't make it to the bathroom, or the pain that roared up her back and legs make her collapse before she reached the toilet, the small scenarios like that popped into her head. The thought of having an accident like a school child or worse, actually having an accident that involved her losing the baby frightened her to death.

So she nominated for the "Non-Rushing" technique and sat up in bed, grimacing at the pain that roared up her spine. She closed her eyes to make an attempt on stopping the room from spinning so much. Slowly she dragged a blanket from the bedroom and brought it with her, sitting down and leaning up against the tub.

She wished Sandy were here with her, at least she wouldn't be alone.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, trembling with the effort that it took to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom. Her face held a feverish glow; the paleness of her cheeks accented the dark circles under her brightly lit, glazed eyes. The normally bright blue eyes that held laughter and love were now dark and glassy with pain.

Leaning back against the tub she closed her eyes and either willed the inevitable to come up or for it to go away.

'God, this hurts so bad,' she thought as the pain seared up her back like needles stabbing against her skin. Her bones simply ached; the shin splints in her legs were on fire. Nothing was worse than running a constant fever, because no matter what she did, every joint hurt, every bone constantly hurt, and nothing could stop it. Her muscles tensed and she willed them to relax.

'Shoot me, whether it be with a gun or with morphine, someone. Please. Take me away from this misery.'

She moaned and wiped her forehead with her hand, slightly surprised at how wet it was. Her heart was pounding with the anticipation that it knew was coming. There was nothing worse than waiting to throw up, the apprehension, your heartbeat drowning in your ears, the constant shaking of your hands and body.

Pound, pound, pound, pound, pound, pound.

The sound of her heartbeat echoed slightly in her ears and she groaned in discomfort again.

'Oh little one, I just want you to know, the thoughts I'm having right now are only because I'm hurting, I will gladly go through all this again just to meet you. Just bear with me. Please bear with me.'

She didn't know if the baby could hear her, but she was positive it could feel her distress and she thought that talking to herself could eventually calm her down. If Sandy were here, he could calm her down. But he wasn't, because she may as well sliced him with a knife again. Her stomach groaned against her will.

Pound, pound, pound, pound, pound, thud, thud, thud, pound.

Again she leaned her head back against the tub, the gagging feeling in her throat much closer now and she leaned up, pushing up the lid of the toilet seat, and gathering her body as it prepared itself to get rid of dinner, lunch and whatever else it had eaten throughout the day.

Not only was she raging with a fever,the severe pain in her back, in her stomach, her legs hurt, even her shoulders ached. Nothing was going right here.

Heave.

'Oh God, please take me now. Please.'

Relax, breathe.

Relax the muscles, unclench the teeth, loosen up the grip on the toilet, and ease back.

Flush the toilet.

The running water through the pipes eased into her ears, the fresh smell of city water, chlorinated water filled the air. The water smelled wonderful and made her more nauseous at the same time.

She once more leaned back against the tub, shivering and she sighed closing her eyes.

'I'm so tired. I just want this to end. So tired.'

Her stomach lurched yet again and she groaned out loud.

She leaned foreword once more and held on as her body trembled and shook, with pain and fear and exhaustion as her stomach said goodbye to whatever was left in it.

Holding herself up was beginning to become a struggle, she trembled from the force of vomiting, and from fatigue. Her own heartbeat pounded in her ears.

With her body preoccupied she didn't hear him but she felt his strong arms slip around her waist and support her body. She felt the hair pushed skillfully out of the way and the gentle words rumble from his voice.

"I'm here."

'Good, because I can't do this alone.'

Her body shook as her stomachemptied the food that had rested there minutes before. But this time when she leaned back, it wasn't against the cold porcelain; it was against his broad chest, his familiarity. He smelled wonderful. With her resting against him he pulled the blanket up over his own shoulders before his hands wrapped around her waist, covering her and keeping her warm. He leaned up and flushed the toilet again, as the fresh smell of city water floated through the air.

She leaned fully against him, her hands grasping either side of his jeans as suddenly a racket of pain seared all the way through her body. Her eyes welled with tears and her body trembled uncontrollably. She relaxed the grip on his jeans slightly as the pain dulled. He wiped the sweat off her brow and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, unclenching her jaw.

'Put me out of my misery. Please Sandy, do something.'

There was nothing he could do other than ride this through with her.

He pulled the blanket down around her body as his arms pulled her lovingly against him. Her back was against his chest and they breathed together, as one.

A tear slipped down her cheek and he reached his hand up moving her blond strands away from her face. He said nothing as he reached up wiping it away and kissing her temple delicately.

If she could see his face, she would recognize the signs that he was hurting too. He was hurting for her because he couldn't ease her pain. He hated seeing her like this, he wanted to take her pain and make it his, but there was no way for him to do that.

Again the pain seared against her back and she clenched his jeans tightly while he placed a hand over her pounding heart, pulling her back against his chest. She gasped softly out loud against him, as the pain this time was too much to take.

"It hurts Sandy," she moaned.

'I know….'

"Deep breaths baby, breathe through it. I'm here." The truth was, Sandy had no idea what kind of pain she was in, but he could see how it registered on her face, the tension in her muscles, and the great sweat that had broken out upon her body.

Her breath hitched in her chest and she shakily let it out. He bent his head and kissed her shoulder tenderly.

"I'm sorry honey. For everything, I would take your pain and make it mine in a heartbeat."

She nodded and swallowed, loosening her grip on his jeans again, letting her slender hand find his and entangling hers with it. She knew he would, if he was able to.

"I'm sorry-" she wanted to apologize but pain gripped her again and she gasped.

"Shh, it's okay," his deep voice was soothing in her ear. "It's okay."

"I love you Sandy. God, I love you," she whimpered.

He smiled against her hair, "I know. It's okay. I love you too."

She trembled again, tears falling down her face, her teeth chattering with the force of the shiver.

"You all right?" He nodded towards the toilet.

He felt her nod against his chest, and he moved to sit up.

Gathering her in his arms he stood up. Her body trembled again and she whimpered against him as a sharp pain roared down her back.

"Sorry babe," he whispered.

She was pale, shaking and feverish, her eyes were fearful as they looked into his. She had never hurt so bad before in her life. It was so frightening.

He laid her down gently on the bed, her hand never letting go of his as he pulled the blankets up around them.

"Just think, when this is all over and we have that beautiful baby, honey. Just think then," his deep voice spoke as he moved his hand down against her stomach. She didn't have the heart to mention that she might not be there. But instead let the fantasy grip her, taking her mind off the pain.

Her teeth chattered against her will and she gripped his other hand as another spasm took hold. Her knuckles were almost white.

"She'll be wonderful," she whispered closing her eyes, letting the reassurance of the thought and of her husband take hold of her. She was tucked against him, the pain she thought diminished slightly as his warm body melted against hers. She could feel his heartbeat against her back and her fatigued body seemed to simply collapse. She closed her eyes, feeling him breath and her body evening its breaths to match his. He squeezed her hand.

He smiled as he kissed her temple softly. "Yes she will."

She trembled against him again, although not as violently as before. Her breaths were turning into small sobs and he could only comfort her by running his hands over her body and whispering,

"It's okay honey. It's okay. I love you. It's okay…."

-