Much to Riff's disappointment, the Jets hadn't been able to figure out who'd jumped Baby John by the time he had to head back to the hospital for his spinal tap. He could feel himself itching for a fight, wanting badly to shake off his nerves about what else was going on with him, but Tony had given strict orders not to cause any unnecessary violence.

Course, he mainly was talking to Action who'd pick a fight with a soda can bottle. But Tony's word was God, so until they had solid facts, everyone was kind of at a standstill.

Riff hadn't seen Bernardo since the night he told him he might have cancer-more so because Riff was embarrassed he'd even revealed that information-he didn't know for the life of him why he'd spilled that or how to act after spilling it, so Riff himself wasn't able to bring any special intell.

Then of course even if he did know something, it wasn't like he could come right out and say he knew.

Cuz then he'd have to explain how he knew.

And he wasn't about to tell the Jets he liked guys….much less that he liked being with guys whose name happened to be Bernardo.

Of all fucking people.

Riff could barely admit to himself what he was and who he did what with.

Riff woke up the morning of his spinal tap feeling overly exhausted and dizzy. He lay in bed for what seemed like forever, just trying to shake off the feeling that something might actually be wrong.

Finally, he got up to shower. It seemed like it took everything out of him just to raise his hands to shampoo his hair. Another wave of dizziness hit him, as he turned off the water, making him close his eyes to lean against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He towled himself off, allowing himself to sit on the edge of the tub for a few minutes, trying to catch his breath. Then he struggled into his clothes, before he headed outside to meet Tony.

"Hey." He said, walking down his apartment's stairs where Tony was already sitting, reading a Superman comic book.

"You look pale, Riff." Tony said, frowning, looking up at him.

"Nice to see you too." Riff said, giving him a grin.

"Did you eat something?" Tony asked, getting up, tucking his comic book in his back pocket.

"You know I don't ever eat breakfast." Riff snatched the comic book out of Tony's pocket flipping through the pages quickly, "Why start now?"

Tony took the comic book back, this time holding it in his hands. He didn't say anything more, although Riff could tell he wanted to.

They walked the rest of the way to the hospital in pretty much silence, making small conversation every few blocks about nothing really important.

Riff paused when he saw the big letters outside the side of the hospital building that read "ONCOLOGY". He felt his heart drop a little as he felt himself swallowing down the heap of emotion he normally tried to avoid.

Being here brought back memories of his ma. This was where she spent a lot of her final weeks.

This was where she died.

He'd been with her every step of the way.

From diagnosis to the end.

He'd held her hand when she was given the news,made her soup when she was too sick to keep anything else down, and would hold her hand if she needed a good cry. He'd even do his homework when she had her chemotherapy sessions, reading out loud to her whatever book they were reading for class. That was before he started cutting classes and not giving a fuck. That was before he dropped outta school altogether.

His pops naturally was never there for any of it. Riff hated the guy. Growing up he was hardly ever around, and if he was he was hitting or screaming at one of them.

His pops not being around only got worse once his ma got sick. He seemed to spent more and more time drinking or picking bar fights.

Riff sometimes wasn't sure if he hated his pops more for not being around when his ma needed him, or for the regular beatings he somehow felt obligated to carry out.

He just knew he hated the bastard with everything he had.

His ma had deserved more.

"You gonna be okay?" Tony asked, clearly understanding Riff's hesitation.

As much as Riff had been by his Ma's side during her illness, Tony had been by Riff's just as much.

"No." Riff answered shortly, before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open.

He registered at the front desk then sat down in a chair. He was careful to avoid the place where his ma and he sat, knowing he couldn't be that up close and personal to where she'd once been.

Finally, after what seemed like forever after Riff had pretty much wore a hole in the floor with his incessant tapping of his foot and Tony must have been on his fortieth read of his comic book, a nurse came out, calling Riff's name.

Riff glanced at Tony before they both got up and followed the nurse into the exam room. The nurse told him to change into a hospital gown, leaving him and Tony alone for a few minutes.

"You doing okay?" Tony asked, as Riff slipped into the gown, tossing him his shirt and jeans.

"Okay as I can be." Riff shrugged, "This ain't exactly on my top ten things of fun."

Tony nodded, biting his lip as the nurse came back into the room, motioning for Riff to climb on the exam table. She then started explaining the process of what was going to happen.

He wasn't one to be squeamish over needles and such-he wouldn't have tattoos if he was-but when they told him what they were actually going to do-he felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

They were going fo stick a fucking needle into his goddamn spine. A fucking long ass needle.

"Okay, honey." A nurse said gently. "I'm going to use a numbing agent in your back first. You're going to feel a slight pinch okay?"

He felt the coldness of the alcohol as the nurse gently wiped his lower back, cleansing the area. Riff couldn't help but flinch slightly as he felt the prick of the needle. He felt his ears flush slightly as Tony winced along with him.

"Trust me sweetie." The nurse soothed back Riff's bangs, "The worst is over. Now we just have to wait for your back to get numb, then the doctor will be in to do the procedure."

Riff nodded, laying down on the table, feeling tears prick his eyes.

He suddenly felt terrified. Terrified of what was going to happen. Terrified of what might happen. Terrified that he actually might be sick.

He wasn't sure if he was strong enough to be sick.

"What are we going to do about Baby John?" He said, almost in a rush, turning his head to Tony, who was looking just as nauseated as Riff felt.

"What?" Tony asked like he hadn't heard him. Riff repeated the question, swallowing hard. Now wasn't the time to fall apart. Hell, he wasn't even sure if anything was wrong with him yet.

"The kid was already scared of his own shadow." RIff said, shifting slightly, "Kid didn't deserve it."

"None of us deserve any of this." Tony answered. "But we'll figure it out. And when we do, we'll make them pay."

They both fell silent. Riff turned his attention to the faucet that was making a dripping, and then listened to the sounds of the city moving around outside.

The doctor came in about ten minutes later, followed by the same nurse.

"I need you to lay on your side and hold your knees up to your chin." The doctor said, clearly all business. "Then, I'm going to insert the needle. It's important you lay as still as you can."

Riff nodded, doing as he was told. He locked eyes with Tony, who was looking awfully pale, his eyes huge.

Riff shut his eyes tight as he felt the needle being inserted. He'd never quite felt anything like it in his life. It didn't hurt exactly….but the pressure was incredible. Like someone was trying to both push and pull something out of him all at the same time. He felt his legs numb slightly, which scared him, but he was too nervous to say anything.

Then, he felt Tony's hands grip at his arms, holding on tight, as if he was trying to share the pain himself. Tony whispered softly to him that it was going to be okay, and that he was there, and just to hang on. Riff couldn't even begin to say how much comfort that gave him.

The whole process took a long forty-five minutes. Finally, the doctor pulled away, telling him he was done and that he'd get the results in a few days.

The nurse stepped in, wiping off RIff's forehead and cleaning and dressing his back. She told Tony that they had to watch for leaking and infection, but that she didn't anticipate a problem.

Riff was then told to lay as still as he could to try to prevent getting a headache. He lay as still as he could but even with that he felt his head start to throb.

Riff guessed that's what happens when some asshole decides to suck something out of someone's spine.

After about two hours of laying in bed, and pumping Riff with IV fluids to prevent dehydration, he was released from the hospital.

Tony luckily had enough money in his pocket and the good sense to hail a cab. Despite his protests, Riff was grateful because he honestly didn't think he'd be able to make it home by foot.

Riff spent the next day and a half in bed with the worst headache he'd ever known and puking in a bucket. Tony on his end, camped out on his couch, forcing Riff to drink about a gallon of water (it was supposed to "help" the headache), patting his back as he retched, and putting cold clothes on his forehead.

Right as Riff was starting to feel like himself again, the results came back. And they weren't good.

Acute Myeloid Leukemia.

The er doc was right.

Riff had cancer.

And no amount of his denying he was fine, or Tony's tears would change that.