Chapter 20: The Trouble With Snow

It's snowing.

The corners of her mouth curl up. She loves watching it snow. Rachel adjusts her head on her pillow so that she can see out her window a bit more. She sighs. It's not enough. She wants to be closer. Pushing herself up, she's surprised to find herself alone in her room. Very surprised. She was going to wake her mom and ask her to go outside with her.

Rachel stands, though only for a moment. Her legs shake and she has to sit. She has more success the second time. She grabs hold of the door jam and leans on it for a moment. From the corner of her eye she spots her elliptical sitting in shadows, mocking her. She straightens in determination. She will get downstairs and out into the snow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shelby woke with a start. Not from a nightmare, but from a sudden realization. She'd fallen asleep on the couch after her brother and sister-in-law left the night before. Looking at the clock, she saw it was still very early. Despite this, Rachel was left alone for hours. Rachel could die in her sleep. If that happened, and she was alone, Shelby would never forgive herself. Fear courses through her, but it also prevents her from running. She finds her body moving slowly, taking each step as if it knows she doesn't want to find what lies above. She stepped into Rachel's room and froze. She wasn't there. Shelby took in a quick breath. The scene didn't change. The bed didn't become a grave, so she knows she's still awake. It's not her nightmare again. But that makes it worse.

Where is her daughter?

Able to move faster now, Shelby takes hurried steps into the bathroom. Empty. Turning on her heel, she jogs into her own room across the hall. Maybe Rachel moved to her room, looking for her during the night? Her bed is empty. Her pulse pounds in her ears. Her breath quickens. Frantically, her eyes scan the floor around her bed. Empty. Her bathroom. Empty.

"Rachel?"

Running now, Shelby rechecks Rachel's room before checking the guest room. Nothing. Shelby sprints down the stairs. Did she miss her downstairs? Had she walked past her sleeping daughter on the loveseat or recliner? The living room is empty.

"Rachel?!" A half shout, half sob.

No response. Her office is empty. The kitchen is empty. Dining room, empty. Shelby yanks open the door to the basement. It's dark.

"Rachel!"

She flips on the light and runs down the stairs. Shelby slips on the second to last step and falls, catching herself on her hands and knees on the floor. She scrambles to her feet, head swiveling wildly as she jogs. The basement is empty. She has checked the entire house. A sudden vision of Rachel slipping out during the night to die alone in the park flashes before her mind. A hand flies to her mouth, catching a sob. Her mind blanks. The room spins. No. She has to be here somewhere. Ignoring her panicked breathing and aching knees, she takes the stairs two at a time. As she re-enters the kitchen, something catches her eye.

The back door is unlocked.

She'd locked it the night before after everyone left. Recalling how Rachel had gone to walk in the snow after her nightmare on Saturday, Shelby feels like smacking herself. She yanks the back door open and steps out, her eyes instantly zeroing in on Rachel sitting on the patio. The relief is so intense that she has to catch herself on the doorframe. She gazes at her child and feels her heart and breathing return to normal.

Shelby smiles slightly. It had snowed again. It must have only just stopped snowing because there's still fresh snow on Rachel's dark hair. Her daughter had fallen asleep, probably while watching the snowfall. She's leaning sideways on the arm of the bench. Fresh powdery snow covered her hair and the blanket she'd wrapped around herself. As she nears her daughter, her smile fades. What she's seeing slowly sinks in. There is an undisturbed layer of snow on Rachel. One of Rachel's hands is out of the blanket. It appears it had been holding her phone. But the phone slid out of her limp hand and onto the patio. Rachel's head is slumped forward, her face extremely pale. Now that she's closer, her body's positioning now appears uncomfortable. Unnatural. Shelby moves faster, fear igniting in her chest. Gently, she takes hold of Rachel's cheeks and raises her head. Her cheeks are ice cold. She's outside in the winter, in the snow, and there's not a hint of red or rosy cheeks. Just stark white. The only color whatsoever that Shelby's frantic eyes can find is the bluish tinge to her daughter's lips.

The flicker of fear in her chest erupts into a raging inferno. There's a roaring in her ears. Shelby moves her hand to Rachel's mouth and nose. She can't feel anything. She can't tell if there's warm breath emerging or not. Shelby gasps out a desperate cry.

"Rachel?"

She doesn't react. Shelby sits beside Rachel on the bench, pulling her daughter against her.

"Rachel, baby, I need you to wake up now. Wake up for Mommy."

She shakes her. No reaction. Shelby presses a hand to Rachel's chest, but can't feel it rise through the blanket. Is it rising and falling? Is it moving at all? She can't tell. Her own chest is aching. A quiet cry slips from the mother's lips. She holds her daughter closer, arms around her frozen, unresponsive body.

"Rachel!"

She tries to scream. The overwhelming horror strangles her, keeping her voice a hoarse whisper. Shelby grabs Rachel's hand. Like her cheeks, it too is ice cold. She presses her fingers to the inside of her wrist, feeling for a pulse. She presses in hard, trying desperately to feel something. Anything. Any flicker of life. Shelby cries, calling her daughter's name. She can't tell. She thinks she may have felt a very light thump against her fingertips, but she's not sure. Did she really? Was it her own frantic pulse she was feeling? Was it wishful thinking?

Shelby presses her face into her daughter's hair, her warm tears melting the snow. She rocks Rachel and cries, her grip tightening. She'd imagined it would be agony to lose her child, but she'd underestimated it. There is a raw, gaping hole in her chest that is bleeding out. The world around them fades, colors gone. Each breath feels like shards of glass are imbedded in her chest.

"Mm."

The quiet groan brings everything to a halt. Her eyes snap down to her daughter's face. It is no longer placid and peaceful. Rachel's brow is furrowed, her lips moving slightly. Shelby sucks in a breath.

"Rachel?"

"Hmm."

Rachel moves her hand, pulling it under the blanket. Her head shifts against Shelby's shoulder, coming to rest with her forehead pressing into her neck. Shelby cries again. Now, though, her tears are different. She buries her face back in Rachel's hair. Shelby has no words. She cannot define how she is feeling. Relieved isn't enough. Not nearly. Still scared, definitely.

"M—mom?" A quiet voice rings through her panic-stricken thoughts.

"Yeah, honey?" She looks down at her and watches Rachel's eyes blink open. Rachel's brown eyes meet hers.

"It snowed."

Shelby laughs. Hysterical laughter that helps release the last of her more extreme emotions. More tears leak out. "Yeah, it did."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Her mom is rocking her. Her body warmth is starting to thaw her. It makes her realize how cold she is. She shivers. She's not sure if she should say anything. With her head pressed into her mom's neck, she can feel and hear her mother's racing heart and shuddering breaths. It didn't take her long upon waking to realize what had happened. Rachel feels horrible for putting her mother through this. She hadn't intended to fall asleep out here. When she'd gotten downstairs (sitting on the stairs and sliding down one step at a time) she'd seen her mom sleeping on the couch. She knows she should have woken her. She'd intended to! But she didn't know how long it'd keep snowing for and she didn't want to miss it. So rather than take the time to wake her mom, explain what she wants, convince her to agree, and get out back, she just went out back. She brought her phone and alert button with her. And a blanket. She had picked up her phone and intended to call Kurt, but then she got dizzy. She'd…..fallen asleep….moments later. She didn't mean to fall asleep.

She shivers harder. She's really cold. She thinks her mom is calming down, but the woman still hasn't noticed her shivering. She can't not say anything. She needs to be warm. Being this cold is almost painful.

"Mom? I'm cold."

Her mother jolts as though electrocuted. "Shit! Of course you are. Shit! I'm so sorry, honey. Okay, let's get you inside and warmed up."

Her mom helps her stand. Rachel's feet and legs are numb from the cold and from sitting so long. They wobble under her. The arms around her tighten and keep her up. Slowly, one step at a time, they head indoors. She sits in a chair at the kitchen table while her mom runs to grab her a warmer blanket. Once it's wrapped around her, her mom steps back outside to grab Rachel's phone and alert button.

She's still shivering hard. So hard that she worries she's going to topple out of the chair. Her mother apparently thinks the same thing, because she helps her stand again. She puts most of her weight on her mom and lets her half carry her to the living room. They curl up on the couch together until her shaking eases. Her mom hums and rocks her. She's still cold, but as she is starting to warm up and relax, her exhaustion becomes more apparent. She closes her eyes.

"Rachel?"

"Yeah?"

"Open your eyes, please." She doesn't like the edge of desperation in her mom's voice. She opens her eyes. "Thank you. Would you like eggs? Waffles? I think it should be something warm."

"Not hungry."

"Rachel…..I need you to at least try. How about oatmeal? I can make oatmeal for us. Maybe with cinnamon and chopped walnuts?"

She just wants to sleep. Preferably while cuddling with someone, to help her warm up. She hates being cold. Outside in snow, she's fine with it for a while. Being cold while inside is aggravating and uncomfortable. She has less tolerance for it. Rachel pulls the blanket tighter around her and fights to keep her eyes open.

"Okay. Oatmeal sounds good."

"Okay, we'll have oatmeal."

Her mom doesn't seem to want to let go of her to do it. Rachel is fine with that. She'd rather her mom keep holding her and let her sleep. After a minute, when her mom hasn't moved, Rachel lets her eyes slip closed once more. She's so tired.

"—chel…..Rachel…" She's being shaken.

"Mm."

"C'mon, baby girl. Open your eyes for me."

She can't. She's so tired. Fingers press lightly on her neck, feeling her pulse. The hand moves, pressing on her chest.

"Rachel." Another nudge. Sharper this time.

Accepting the inevitable, Rachel opens her eyes and lifts her head off her mom. "Oatmeal?"

"Yeah. I'm going to go make it now." A kiss to her cheek and she's alone on the couch. "I need you to stay awake, though."

Rachel contemplates what to do. She needs to sleep. But her mom is freaking out. She's constantly calling out random questions to her or poking her head into the living room, making sure she's still awake. If this continues, she's going to end up passing out which will make her mom panic even more. Eyeing her phone, she decides to call someone. But who? Her grandparents are due to arrive later today. Aunt Kelly is closest, but still half an hour away plus she'd have to deal with traffic. Rachel is aware that she won't be able to stay awake that long. Uncle Burt? Even closer, but what reason could he give as an excuse to be over? And on a school day. Still, it'd take him a good 15 minutes to get here. If traffic is bad, then longer. Can she stay awake that long? She doubts it.

She's cold. Hot cocoa would be nice. Hot cocoa. Magical, special hot cocoa. The Johnsons are right next door. They could be a distraction; either it'll help her stay awake or distract her mom so she can sleep. But her mom needs someone else. Someone who can get through to her and support her. Comfort her. Aunt Kelly would be best, but again, too far. She lightly shakes her head. A thought for later.

"Mom?"

Her mother practically sprints to the living room. "Yes?"

"Can I call the Johnson's? Ask Mrs. Johnson to bring over her special hot cocoa?"

"I can make you hot chocolate, Rachel."

Rachel grins, hoping it doesn't appear as fake as it feels. "Not as good as hers."

Her mom huffs out a laugh, then looks at the clock. "Well, they are normally up now. Go ahead and call."

Rachel smiles until her mom leaves the room. Mrs. Johnson answers.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. Johnson. It's Rachel. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all." The woman sounds surprised to hear from her. "What can I do for you?"

"Is there any chance you'd be willing to bring over some of your special hot cocoa?"

Mrs. Johnson laughs. "Of course! Having an early morning craving?"

"I'm cold." Rachel leans so she can glance into the kitchen. She spies her mom preoccupied with chopping the walnuts and takes a chance. She lowers her voice to a whisper. "Mom is freaking out. When she found me asleep on the patio this morning, she thought I was dead. So I'm cold and she's…..kind of hysterical. Can you make hers extra special?" Rachel is aware that 'extra special' cocoa means it has alcohol in it.

Mrs. Johnson's tone changes, becoming serious and worried. "Rachel, do you two need help? Can I call someone?"

Glancing once more towards her distracted mother, Rachel continues quickly. "I'm going to call someone, I just don't know who yet. But I'm really tired and cold and I don't want mom to freak out more if I fall asleep while she's alone. She panics whenever I close my eyes."

"Okay Rachel, just relax. I'm going to make the cocoa and be right over, alright?"

"Thank you." Seeing her mom turning to look at her, she raises her voice to normal volume. "I really look forward to it."

"We'll be over in just a few minutes." Mrs. Johnson assures her before hanging up.

Rachel heaves a sigh of relief.

"They coming over?"

"Yeah. They'll be over in a few minutes, she said."

Her mom smiles. "Oatmeal is almost done. You can eat it with the cocoa."

Rachel looks at her phone. She's tired and her head is starting to hurt. She can't call anyone else without being obvious. But she can text. Who, though? Since the Johnsons will be over soon, she decides to message Aunt Kelly.

R: Can you come over? Quickly?

AK: Of course. What's going on?

R: Mom is freaking out

AK: Why? Did something happen?

R: I fell asleep on the patio alone. Mom found me out there and thought I was dead.

AK: …

AK: …

Rachel watches her screen, seeing her aunt repeatedly start a message only to erase it and start again.

AK: on my way

The doorbell rings. Rachel glances at her mom as she heads towards it, then down at the new message.

AK: Honey, are you two alone?

R: The Johnsons just arrived. I called and asked them to bring over hot cocoa.

Rachel hesitates, but then goes on.

R: I'm really tired. I'm not going to be able to stay awake long. But every time I close my eyes Mom panics.

AK: Don't worry about your mother. If you need to sleep, you sleep. She will handle it. The Johnsons will help and so will I once I get there.

Rachel looks up as the adults enter the living room and sets her phone face down. Her mother's smile is brittle. The Johnson's look wary but sympathetic. Their good cheer is also faked. Rachel sees both sides and wonders if the adults can as it well. They all hesitate, unsure if they should stay or move into the kitchen. Rachel doesn't want to move, so she pulls her legs under her, making it obvious she's getting comfortable and not planning on moving. The adults take their cue from her and sit down around her. They pass around mugs and pour the hot cocoa. Rachel takes hold of her mug, but quickly releases it. The adults frown at her worriedly. She shrugs awkwardly.

"It's hot. I'll wait."

Mr. Johnson moves, sitting next to her. "Can I see something? Give me your hand, please."

Rachel frowns curiously, placing her hand in her neighbors. The old man holds it gently, cupping it between his for a moment. Then he slides his hand up her arm before releasing her. "Rachel, how long were you outside in the snow?"

Her mom sits up straighter.

"Um…I….I don't know." She really doesn't. "Why?"

"The cocoa is very warm, but it's not hot. Your hand and arm are still cool to the touch. Almost cold. Which is why the warm mug felt very hot to you. Unfortunately, that also means you can't drink it yet. Not only would it be very uncomfortable for you, but it could cause damage."

"Damage?" Her mother asks, tense once more. Mrs. Johnson places a wrinkled hand over hers.

Mr. Johnson hesitates before going on. "You might want to check her temperature, Shelby. If her body temperature is too low, she may have mild hypothermia. If we try to warm her up too much too fast, such as with hot cocoa, it would put too much stress on her heart."

Her mother stands quickly and leaves the room with large, shaking steps.

"Stan." Mrs. Johnson glares at her husband.

"What?" He asks at a defensive whisper. "It's true. We don't want to give Rachel a heart attack by warming her too quickly."

Mrs. Johnson looks between her husband and Rachel before sighing. "I know, but…..she's on edge as it is. Phrase things more gently until she's calmer."

Her mom hurries back in and hands Rachel a thermometer. Obediently, she places it under her tongue.

"96.3" Her mom's face falls and she looks at the Johnsons.

"So she doesn't have hypothermia, but….it sounds like either she had very mild hypothermia and is warming up or was just very close to hypothermia but is slowly warming up. Still, better to be safe. Rachel, we'll let your cocoa cool to room temperature before you drink it." Mr. Johnson states.

Her mom runs a hand down her back. "What….what else? I don't know anything about hypothermia."

The old man shrugs lightly. "She doesn't have hypothermia. But, just to be on the safe side, don't rub her arms or legs or apply too much heat. She's inside and under a blanket, she'll be fine. It may take a while, but it's safer to let her warm up slowly."

Her mom's hand stops moving. Wanting to nip this in the bud, Rachel asks her own question, her eyes wide. "But it's not like a concussion, right? I can go to sleep. Take a nap."

Knowing how tired she is and how her mom is already panicking, the Johnson's look at her knowingly, then attempt to reassure her mother. "Of course. Sleeping is just fine. Nothing at all dangerous with that."

"Good." Rachel smiles tiredly. Hopefully that'll be enough to keep her mother calm. Her head is hurting more, but now she doesn't want to say anything. She doesn't want to add to her mother's stress and worry.

"Stan, how do you know so much about hypothermia?" Her mom asks, trying and failing to sound casual as she starts playing with Rachel's hair.

He smiles. "I used to hunt. In the winter, we had to be careful not to let ourselves freeze. We learned about hypothermia so we'd know the signs and how to handle it."

Listening to him go on and share hunting stories, Rachel's eyes become heavy. She's losing the battle to stay awake. And the will.

"Rachel." Her mom nudges her softly.

"She's okay to sleep, Shelby."

"But…"

"Just hold her. You can keep an eye on her breathing if it makes you feel better, but she's fine." Mr. Johnson insists.

Rachel feels her mom slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her against her side. Rachel shifts to get more comfortable. She falls asleep listening to the conversation resume and feeling her mom rest her own head on hers.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kelly sits on the shoulder of the interstate cursing. The flashing lights behind her just add insult to injury. Rachel and Shelby need her. Andy is going to laugh at her for getting pulled over for speeding. The officer knocks on her window.

"License and registration, please."

Tight lipped, she hands them over. She keeps her hands gripping the steering wheel tight while waiting.

"Do you know why I pulled you over, Mrs. Winters?"

"Because I was speeding."

"Do you know how fast you were going?"

Nerves make her bluntly honest. They always have. "Frankly officer, I don't think I was going fast enough."

The officer pauses. He's shocked. He also looks torn between being appalled and being amused. "Why?"

Unexpected tears jump to her eyes. She hands him her phone, open to the conversation she had with her niece. "My niece, Rachel, is 16. She is currently in stage 4 of a rare blood disease. She has about a month left to live. She messaged me this morning."

She waits, impatiently tapping her fingers on the steering wheel while the officer reads the messages. The officer reads through it several times, eyes jumping to her wet eyes and tense face between each read.

"This may seem callous, but…do you have a way of proving she's sick?"

Kelly reels back. She's about to insult the man but stops. The way he asked wasn't cruel or even disbelieving. He sounded like he was hoping she had proof. Trusting her gut, she takes her phone back and scrolls through her photos. She finds the one that jumped to mind. It was taken while Rachel was in the hospital after her heart stopped. In it, Rachel is wearing an oxygen mask and laying on the hospital bed. Shelby is on the bed with her, holding her.

"That's my sister and niece. It was taken two months ago, right after Rachel was taken off life support because she'd finally started breathing on her own."

The officer nods and hands the phone back. "What's their address?" Kelly gives it. "Okay. I'm going to pull in front of you. You will follow me. I'll get you there faster."

Gratitude fills her. "Thank you!"

He nods and hurries back to his patrol car. He turns on his siren, pulls out and waits until she gets behind him. Then, he takes off and she follows. When he enters the neighborhood, he turns off his siren. When he gets to their street, he turns off his lights. He stops in front of the house. Kelly parks in the driveway and jogs to the front door. It's unlocked. The officer is walking up behind her.

"I need to verify that they're here and okay before I leave. Mostly so that I can say I wasn't suckered out of giving a ticket when I explain this to my supervisor."

She smirks briefly and they enter the house. The Johnson's have apparently left. They find Shelby and Rachel in the living room. Rachel is asleep in Shelby's arms. Both mother and daughter are pale. The look on Shelby's face as she strokes her daughter's hair breaks Kelly's heart. Clearly, Rachel was correct. Shelby is still very shaken. She kneels next to them. Shelby's eyes jump to hers and tears immediately start flowing.

"I thought….I thought…."

"I know. Rachel messaged me this morning." She kisses Rachel's cheek. It's still chilled. "She's still this cold?"

Shelby's face tenses. "Stan thinks she had hypothermia but is slowly warming up."

A cough draws their attention. The police officer is standing there awkwardly. "Um…I can…check for hypothermia. And check her vitals. If you'd like."

Shelby looks confused. Kelly grins slightly. "I was speeding and got pulled over. He offered to get me here faster to check on you two."

Shelby doesn't even smile. "Okay. Can you?"

The officer nods. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

"Shelby."

He nods. Kelly moves, letting him take her spot kneeling next to the couch. The officer, Daniel, feels her cheeks and hands. While the thermometer reads her temperature, he checks her vitals. His face stays calm, but Kelly catches the tightening around his mouth when he spots her chest port.

"96.9. Low, but not hypothermia. It's almost in normal range. And her vitals are normal."

"My neighbor said not to warm her too fast."

"He was right. However, since she does not have hypothermia, there are things we can start doing now. Don't try to warm or rub her arms or legs. But, you can warm her core. Holding her is fine. You can put another blanket on her. Have her drink a room temperature beverage. If that goes down well, then start giving her warmer drinks. Once her temperature passes 97, maybe have her take a warm bath. Or use heating pads on low to warm her torso."

The sisters nod. "Thank you. Truly."

He smiles. "I'll leave her in your capable hands."

He leaves. For a few minutes, they sit silently. Then, Kelly reaches for Shelby's shoulder. Her sister turns away, preventing her from touching.

"Can you grab another blanket?"

Kelly sighs. Once she tucks a second blanket over her niece, she focuses once more on her sister.

"Shelby. Let's let her sleep."

Reluctantly, Shelby releases her daughter and rises.

"Let's go upstairs and talk."

"No."

"Shelby, you need to—"

"I can't be that far from her. Not now."

"Okay. Come on." Kelly leads her out of the room.

They enter the kitchen. Shelby is starting to crumble. She presses her hands over her mouth to muffle herself. Kelly is worried. Shelby needs to break down, but if she breaks down this close to Rachel, they risk waking and upsetting her. Kelly tries to pull her out the back door, figuring they could leave the door open so they can hear Rachel but be far enough that Shelby crying won't wake her. Shelby violently yanks away, startling her.

"No."

"Shel—"

"No. Not out there. I can't. I found her….out there…." Her knees buckle. Kelly grabs her little sister and helps her sit. They lean against the closed back door, sitting on the kitchen floor. Shelby breaks down in her sisters arms.

"I thought she was dead." Shelby wails as quietly as she can. Kelly cries with her, holding her. "There was a layer of snow covering her. She was pale and her lips were blue. She wasn't moving or responding. She was slumped over. Her skin was so cold I couldn't feel a pulse."

For several minutes, they sit and cry.

"It hurt so bad, Kelly. Finding her like that. Thinking that….that she…was gone….it hurt so much." Shelby sobs, but is actively trying to keep her volume down. "I can't lose her, Kel. I can't. I can't I can't. I can't lose her. I won't survive it." Kelly's stomach plummets. She feels sick. "If Rachel dies, I will not survive."

Kelly pulls back and whispers fiercely. "Yes you will. It'll be hard. It'll be the hardest thing you'll ever have to do, but you will survive it."

Shelby shakes her head.

"Yes. You will have all of us to help you. And this is only if, Shelby. She can still get better. There's still time!"

Shelby gives her a dark, withering look. "Less than a month."

They sit silently, wiping their tears and letting the cruelty of their reality sink in.

"I need to check on her." Shelby rises.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The muffled sobs penetrate her sleepy mind. Rachel's eyes blink open and she flinches. Her head hurts worse and she's still cold.

"If Rachel dies, I will not survive."

Tears pierce her eyes. Her poor mom. She sounds…..broken. Rachel's lips tremble and she sucks in a breath. She cringes. Her head really hurts. A warm hand on her arm gently shakes her. She flinches again.

"Rachel?" Now her mom sounds worried. Her soft fingers wipe the tears on her cheeks. "What's wrong?"

She doesn't want her to know she heard part of her mom's breakdown. Plus, her head really does hurt. "Head hurts."

"A lot?"

Well….yes and no. But Rachel would rather exaggerate slightly than reveal that she overheard her mom. "Yes."

"Oh, baby. I'm sorry." Her voice softens.

Her mom slides onto the couch with her, holding her. Rachel opens her eyes. Seeing the look her mom's face….in her eyes….she can't help but cry. Despite her own pain, her mom's focus is making her feel better. She quickly closes her eyes.

"Oh, honey. Is it that bad? The light is bothering you?" Her volume lowers further, bringing it down to a whisper.

Not really, but she goes with it. "Yes."

Her mom arranges them so that she can not only hold her, but wrap a hand around her eyes to help block out light. The same hold she'd been in a week ago with that horrible migraine.

"Kelly," her mom whispers "can you get her meds?"

Very very softly, her mom begins to hum. Her free hand gently rubs her back. Rachel is hurting, but she also feels very loved. For the first time in a very long time, she truly feels like she is someone's world. She has known with 100% certainty that her mother loves her and puts her first for many months now. But in this moment, she truly accepts that she matters more to her mother than literally anyone else. Even herself. She is the center of her mom's world and her #1 priority and love. And her mom may lose her soon. It's not fair. Rachel feels herself lose her composure even more. Her tears come faster. In moments, she is crying hard.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry." The softest of whispers.

No, Mom. I'm sorry you have to go through this.

Aunt Kelly returns. Even with her eyes closed and her mom's hand over her eyes, she can tell her aunt is closing the blinds and curtains. Another arm reaches under her. The arms slowly lift her. Rachel keeps crying. She's so tired and hurting. Not just her head. Her heart. It's not fair. Not just for her, but for everyone who loves her.

"C'mon, sweet pea." Her aunt whispers. "Just a little more."

She's not sure she should take medicine if it's not that bad. Well…..it is bad, just not as bad as last week. She'd be willing to take the mild, but she doesn't actually need anything stronger. She's worried it'd cause a problem for her to take the stronger meds when they're not needed. They pull her up a little more, then she feels a pill being pressed against her lips, just like her mom did last time. Rachel turns her head, burying her face into her mom's shoulder. Moving that much actually caused a spike of pain, so her moan of pain was real and not exaggerated.

"Please, baby girl."

Her mom's tone matches her words. She's begging her. Desperate for her to not be in pain. Rachel hesitates, crying more. This time, her moan is out of uncertainty and not pain.

"Honey….just take it. It'll help. Please."

Rachel supposes it's better to be drugged up more than necessary and feel nothing than keep upsetting her mother. Slowly, she turns her head towards where she thinks her aunt is sitting.

"There you go. Good girl."

Once more, the pill is pressed to her lips. Rachel accepts it. Water follows, helping her swallow it down. Her aunt uses a soft towel to dry her face of water and tears. Then she takes her hands in hers. Her mom and aunt sit silently with her, just holding her and waiting for the medicine to kick in. Rachel lays there, cocooned in a loving embrace. She smells apples and juniper. She's starting to feel warm, or at least less chilled. Slowly, she listens to her mom's pulse slow down to a normal pace.

"It looks like the drugs have started working."

Her mom chuckles softly. "I'd say. I can feel her body becoming less tense."

Explains why she feels heavier. Knowing her mom is calm, she lets herself drift off. She wakes a little later when she feels something warm being placed on her back. She's lifted slightly and something warm is placed on her chest before they lay her back down on her mom. Warmth seeps into her torso and she sighs happily. Heating pads. Her new favorite thing. She hears soft chuckles before drifting off again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kelly calls Mark and yells at him.

Mark calls Shelby and apologizes for leaving before someone else arrived.

Shelby reassures him it wasn't his fault. He needed to attend the big meeting. It's Shelby's fault for falling asleep on the couch. If she had gone to sleep in bed with Rachel, she would have felt Rachel get up and would have followed her. She would have gone outside with her, then brought her inside when she started to fall asleep. This whole fiasco could have been avoided. Her parents arrive and send Kelly home. They reassure Shelby that it's no ones fault. But that if she was going to take some of the blame, then Rachel also deserves some of the blame for going outside without waking her mother. Shelby debates talking to Rachel about that, but decides against it. With only weeks left, she has no interest in having pointless arguments with her daughter. All she does say to her about it is "next time, wake me".

Xxxxxx