Angel lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She was dressed only in boxers, as was Collins, who was sleeping peacefully beside her. It must have been 65 degrees in the tiny apartment she shared with him, but she was scorching hot. A thin veil of perspiration coated her forehead, and she felt flushed and overheated.
It was nothing, of course. Just a cold, she told herself over and over again. She closed her eyes. Just a cold, just a cold, justacoldjustacoldjusta--
"Angel, baby, you okay?"
"It's just a cold," she snapped automatically, glancing over at him. He had obviously just woken up, though why, she didn't know. He looked tired, but worried.
"What?" The corners of his eyes crinkled with silent laughter at her accusatory tone.
"Nothing." She shook her head and smiled weakly at him. "Never mind."
"Are you feeling okay? You don't look so good, baby."
"I'm fine." She faked a little yawn. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all."
"Oh." He sounded relieved, but not altogether convinced. "Are you sure you're not--?"
"I'm not sick, Collins," she glared at him. I'm fine. Just fine."
"You look flushed," he said, studying her. He frowned. "And...baby, there's something on your face. Oh...oh my God. Shit."
"Collins, stop it." Her voice took on a slight hysteric note. "I'm fine, I swear."
"No...no." His voice was breaking. Angel felt like crying. "Come on. We have to get you to the hospital. Now." Collins tried to scramble out of bed, but Angel grabbed his arm, holding him back.
"Tom, no. Don't," she begged. He turned to face her. His expression nearly broke her heart. She had never seen him look so lost before. Tears brimmed at her eyes.
"Please, baby...please. Let's just go get you checked out. Anything...please," he begged.
She bowed her head, a tear escaping. I'm not sick. I'm not sick...I... she blinked, a tear falling onto the sheet wrapped tangled around her waist. I'm sick.
"I'm sick." She sniffed. "I'm sick, aren't I? I...I'm dying." She broke down sobbing and buried her head in her hands. She felt Collins' arms wrap around her as he rocked her comfortingly.
"You're not sick," he whispered, his voice raspy. "You'll be fine. I promise." He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Come on, let's get you to the hospital. We can call the others once we get there. Come on." He helped her out of bed and into some clothing, then out the door.
---
Angel didn't even need to listen to what the doctors were saying.
"You're sick."
But she already knew that.
And she was dying... but she had known that for months. It was only a matter of time.
FIN.