AN: I hope that clears up the confusion some people had. For the record, it was intentional.

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.


~*~


Lay Him Down To Sleep

PART TWO

"Let me go home, I'm just too far from where you are."

-Home, Michael Buble


Six Months Earlier-December

Her hands shook as she settled another neatly folded sweater inside the extra large suitcase on her bed. Smoothing out invisible wrinkles, Gabriella reached for a pair of jeans and added them to the growing stash, followed by more sweaters and a smaller pile of tank tops. Nestling her boots in between the layers of clothes, she glanced around the room to make sure nothing had been forgotten. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she ducked inside the tiny bathroom that she shared with her roommate and gathered up her toothbrush and other necessities. Reaching under the sink for her hairdryer and straightener, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and froze.

She looked upset and stressed, something that she could not allow to be seen by others. Sighing, she wrapped cold fingers around the ceramic of the sink and let her chin drop to her chest as she tried to settle her nerves. Sucking in a breath, she held it for a count of ten before letting it out through pursed lips. Raising her eyes to meet their reflection in the mirror, she rubbed her fingers under her eyeslashes to catch any stray tears. Running a hand through her hair and fluffing it up around her crown, she rummaged through the small cosmetic bag perched beside the sink and pulled out a tub of clear lipgloss to slide across smooth lips. Rubbing her cheeks, she frowned at how little color her face held. She was tired from sleepless nights of finals and planning, and exhausted from hiding her nerves while dealing with her boyfriend's anxious twittering movements. Neither one of them could think straight, but she let him believe it was because of the looming awkwardness and not something deeper. Not guilt.

Straightening the neckline of her white longsleeved t-shirt, Gabriella adjusted its hem and grabbed the remaining items from the bathroom that she would need on the trip. Christmas break had begun the day before, having completed her final exam and passed in her last paper to her political science professor, and she had exactly one hour to finish packing and have her things lugged to the front lobby of the residence building in time for her boyfriend to pick her up and begin the drive from Stanford University to Albuquerque, New Mexico where his parents lived.

Gabriella's original Christmas plans had been drastically changed in the last twenty-four hours. She had spent the semester counting down the days until she and her boyfriend could accompany their friends to the ski resort in Colorado where they had all rented rooms in a cozy cabin and purchased a week long ski pass to allow them to hit the slopes every day. They were supposed to be flying there tomorrow morning. They were supposed to be there until the day before Christmas Eve when they would all fly to their respective families' homes and enjoy a relaxed break. She was supposed to be excited, but a phone call the morning before had begun a train wreck that resulted in cancelled flight tickets and cabin rooms.

Her mother was stuck in Spain, held up over a visa problem that meant she would probably not return to Boston in time for Christmas. Gabriella knew it wasn't on purpose, but she couldn't help but be disappointed at the timing. Her mother had taken a leave of absence from work to return to Spain to handle the case of her late father's estate. Having moved to the States at a young age, Maria Montez had handed the care of her family estate in Spain off to an aunt who had until recently, been tending to the upkeep and care of the home. Having passed away suddenly last month, Maria had returned to sort out the mess, and was now overseas until her visa could be sorted out.

That alone would not have altered Gabriella's plans for the holiday. In fact, her boyfriend had readily speed dialled his mother and requested that Gabriella be included for their Christmas festivities. She hadn't been present for the conversation, but she knew when he returned that something had changed. Instead of being giddy and excited to be bringing her home and showing her off like all those times he'd threatened to, he had been closed off and subdued. His usually sparkling blue eyes, something that had drawn her to him in the first place, had looked haunted when he finally looked up at her from his phone that was still cradled in his palm. Her smile at the anticipation had dropped when he met her eyes and she frowned with worry and confusion. When questioned, he had shrugged and told her that his mother would gladly welcome her for Christmas and that he was just worried about his brother. His mother had mentioned that the doctor assigned to the basketball team at the University of Albuquerque had had him benched during the game the night before when he took a hard knock on the court and felt dizzy afterwards. Snapping out of his thoughts, he had smiled at Gabriella and kissed her forehead before running off to his last final exam which left her to begin a packing spree for their trip.

Another phone call from Albuquerque later that afternoon had led to the cancellation of their ski trip and instead they decided to pack their things and drive directly to Albuquerque. This time it had been Jack Bolton, who called just after the completion of his son's exam to tell him that his brother had been rushed to the emergency room after passing out on the basketball court during practice that afternoon. He had calmly mentioned tests and doctors and routines over the phone, but even Gabriella could feel the tension filling the room as his words fell flat on his youngest son's ears. Five minutes after hanging up, Gabriella was on the phone with the airline and her boyfriend was outside checking the oil in his SUV. They weren't going skiing. They were going home.

Zipping her suitcase closed, Gabriella slung her purse over her shoulder and gave the room a final glance before gripping the handle on her luggage and pulling it behind her as she exited the room. Her roommate would be back that evening and would find the note on her bed from Gabriella, explaining everything. Locking the door behind her, she smiled at the group of guys parading in victory down the hallway as they announced the official start to their break. The elevator ride down the three floors was quiet, leaving her too much time to think but also enough time to suck in a breath and steady her nerves. The bells decorating the fake tree in the corner of the lobby tinkled as the wind rushed through the open door. Rolling her suitcase across the sidewalk, she could see how tense her boyfriend was with the way he took the bags from her and piled them unceremoniously in the back of the vehicle.

"Have you heard anything," she asked quietly, climbing into the passenger seat as he jammed the keys into the ignition and forced the engine to start. Watching him, she felt cut off from his thoughts for the first time in months.

"Dad said they were running an MRI and a CT scan this morning. He said it was routine but he wasn't sure what they would be looking for," he answered, his anxiety ringing through the syllables in his words. Looking to her as he waited for traffic to clear at the exit from the residence driveway, his gaze was unsettled and pleading and she knew what he wanted from her. "Gab, I'm a math major. I watch sports and I enjoy a little CSI now and then; you're the pre-med major," he swallowed to give himself time to assure himself he wanted her answer. "What would they be looking for?"

"It could be anything," she answered slowly, her mind working overtime to keep her suspicions to herself until they were home and his parents had better answers for him. "You said the point guard fouled him. It could be a concussion."

"It's not, Gab, I can feel it," he confessed and she realized that he was terrified of what was waiting for them. "I know it's cynical and wrong, but I can feel it in my gut that it's something big. He's been mentioning headaches for awhile; not on purpose, but I don't think he realizes how often it slips out. His game's been off; even dad has been commenting on it." He let out a heavy breath and his hand snaked across the emergency brake to grip her hand. "I need to be ready, Gab. I need to know what the worst case scenario could be so when I walk into that house, I don't crack in front of him."

His eyes bored into the side of her face as she kept her eyes on the road. The interstate stretched before them; leading to a place she had never been but had been told about repeatedly. Guardrails cut off their views of pastures and open fields that held no purpose except to make the trip seem to last an eternity. A house or two, a handful of buildings, a glimpse of a road sign, were all that broke the simplistic view and yet inside the SUV, Gabriella was trying to remain stoic. She couldn't let her emotions dictate her words because he didn't need that right now. He needed cold hard facts because that's how he handled everything in life. He needed to analyze and have a plan, which was why he was begging for her limited expertise. He had never welcomed surprises.

"Eyes on the road," she reminded him gently, pulling her hand from his grip to indicate that he should return both hands to the wheel. Silence dragged on because they both knew she would answer and therefore he gave her time. It did nothing to ease his fears. "You realize that it could just be a concussion? Or chronic migraines?"

"I get that I may be overreacting," he spit, "But I need to know. I feel like they are leaving me in the dark just so that I get home in one piece. My dad would not have been the one to call if Mom was able to; which means she couldn't lie over the phone and that means the worst case scenario."

"A brain tumour," she told him softly, not missing the swift intake of breath from the driver's side of the vehicle. "Do you want to pull over? I can drive."

"No," he replied through clenched teeth, his knuckles white on the wheel and his movements jerky as he guided them along an incline in the road.

"You're twenty miles over the limit," she added. The speedometer dropped as he eased his foot of the gas, and she inwardly smirked at how well she could push his buttons to remain within the guidelines of any situation at a given time. Returning back to the conversation at hand, she propped one elbow on the door of the SUV and twisted to allow all of him to be within her scope of vision. "That's the worst case scenario given his symptoms."

They were both silent as the words hung in the air. She contemplated what that would mean for him. For his family. For a brief moment, she considered what that would do to her, but she pushed it aside as a pointless worry that was unimportant in comparison. On the other side, his thoughts raced as her eyes remained steady on his face, waiting for a moment of faltering. When it didn't come, she relaxed slightly and let him work through it on his own. Sinking into her own thoughts, Gabriella found herself remembering how they had met in the first place.

It had been during the orientation week at Stanford for freshmen back in September and Gabriella had been at the campus bookstore gathering up everything she needed. He had possessed a handful of inches that she hadn't and had helped after watching her struggle for a few moments by reaching a text off the top shelf. They had chatted and Gabriella had left with the feeling that she knew him; his dazzling eyes so intense and yet seemingly familiar at the same time. Her new roommate, ever the romantic, had called it fate. They had met up again at a welcome barbeque and learned that their roommates were best friends from Phoenix. They had joined the newly developed group of people for pizza that night, but the next night it was only the two of them seated at the coffee shop just off the main pathway between the library and the administration building. It had gone from there; their mutual areas of interest aiding in a budding relationship. They both enjoyed mathematics and science, although they were not pursuing the same career paths.

It had been so easy, Gabriella remembered, considering how her history with boys had gone in the past with the constant upheaval of her mother's job. They just clicked and along the way, it became second nature to call each other over everything. Gabriella often wondered how different her relationship with him was from best friends, never having had one past the age of seven when she lived in Charlotte, South Carolina. He wasn't her first boyfriend, but he was the first for a lot of other things. People called them perfect, but on the inside, Gabriella found herself questioning the depth of their feelings. They had yet to say those three little words, and she wondered what it would take for her to feel that way. Everything between them was fun and simple. She was happy, but she wasn't content. She was restless, but he never budged from his place of comfort. She wanted something that she had expected from him, but after peeling away as many layers as she could, she had come to realize he didn't have whatever it was she sought. A quick movement as he turned on the headlights, the sun slipping lower, caught her attention and she shifted from the cramped position she had settled into almost thirty minutes ago.

"So what happens if that's what it is?" he asked as if the conversation had never lapsed. It always irritated her when he did that, but she sighed and cut him some slack. "They cut it out? Chemo?"

"Possibly," she replied slowly, letting him weigh her words. "It could be benign; it could be inoperable."

"So the worst case scenario is that he could die," his voice sounded high to her as he said it out loud. The lines around his mouth tightened and Gabriella wished she had never answered him in the first place. For what seemed like the hundredth thousandth time since meeting him, Gabriella found her eyes wandering over every aspect of his face. The blue eyes were piercing through the windshield, barely flicking away from the road except when he felt the need to make eye contact with her. His hair, always slightly unruly, was in need of a haircut but she realized that would be irrelevant at the moment to mention. Her gaze slid down his neck to his shoulders, to his arms that were well defined from playing years of basketball before dropping to a strictly recreational level in college. His words rolled through her and the meaning behind them made Gabriella nauseous to the point of needing to swallow the rising bile. "You're saying that my twenty-one year old brother could die."

The rational, educated side of her wanted to tell him the odds and the chemistry behind her prediction. She wanted to mention the article she had read for fun the week before about new treatments. She wanted to be unemotional and detached, but it was impossible given the personal ties to the situation. Instead, she wanted to deny everything. Trying to push away her own feelings of discomfort and panic, she found that underneath her rational side was bubbling anger at how he had managed to drag her into his world of doubt. She couldn't be there. She couldn't sit for the rest of drive wondering about the future of the Bolton family. She refused to think of it with one person less.

"You asked what it could be. There are a hundred things that it could be. He could be overworked, for God's sake. You're putting yourself in a place you don't need to be," she told him darkly, never one for doling out pessimism where it wasn't necessary. "Just focus on driving home and you can deal with whatever your parents throw at you then."

"You mean 'we'," he corrected absently. "You're going to be there too."

"It's not the same for me though, is it?" she asked vaguely, "He's your older brother."

"You're going to love him," he told her with a smile, all thoughts of death vanishing for a moment. "He's just one of those people everyone loves and everyone wants to be around. He's really excited to meet you."

"He knows I'm coming?" She wasn't sure how she felt about how much the two Bolton's had discussed about her without her knowing.

"Yeah, of course. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She let him return his gaze to the road as she went back to looking out the window. Fifteen minutes, when the silence had been sufficient enough to convince him of her act, she pretended to fall asleep.

~*~

They drove through the night, only stopping long enough for Gabriella to take over the wheel and navigate the familiar roads through Arizona. Just before sunrise of the next morning, she slipped out of the driver's side and entered McDonald's to grab enough greasy breakfast to sustain them for the next few hours. When she returned, he had taken his spot behind the wheel once again and she silently slid in on the other side. The food was divided and eaten, the whole practice taking less than thirty minutes and only a handful of words tossed between them about the route they would take and the predicted good weather. He guided them back to the interstate while she used her phone to text a message to her mother and their friends who had arrived at the ski resort and wanted to check up on the two of them.

Gabriella started up a conversation when the tense quiet in the vehicle began to make her restless. He joined, reluctant at first, and they discussed their classes for the next term and their predictions for their final marks. They chatted about Christmas shopping and Gabriella managed to keep him interested in her family connections in Spain and her mother's job. He in turn understood her need to keep his mind of things and gave her answers to questions she asked. He talked about his old high school and how his dad's basketball team was doing in the Albuquerque and surrounding area standings. A few childhood memories were mentioned and Gabriella smiled softly, thinking of the image he painted of two little boys helping their dad build a tree house in the backyard. When he broke off, she realized he had asked her a question.

"Sorry," she apologized and he laughed at how common it was for her to get lost in her thoughts.

"I said we're going to need gas," he explained as he turned the car off the main road and into a service station, "Did you want anything?"

"No, I'm good," she told him, leaning back into the seat as he got out to fill the tank.

The sun was rising behind the trees, its light casting shadows across the parking lot and the dashboard of the SUV. Gabriella pulled her sunglasses from the console between the seats and jammed them into place. Turning her head, she saw her boyfriend replace the gas nozzle and dig out his wallet as he trekked to the building to pay the attendant. He paused halfway and dug the phone from his pocket, glancing at it before answering, and then ducked inside where he disappeared from sight. Pulling her fingers through her hair, she fished an elastic out of her purse and pulled down the visor to use the mirror. Piling her hair in a messy bun, she swept a hand across her forehead to adjust her bangs and then flipped the visor back into pace when he returned with a receipt in hand.

"Who was on the phone?" she asked lightly, clicking her seatbelt back in place.

"Dad," he answered, his voice even. "The hospital released him an hour ago. They're at home; he said we'd talk then." He took a deep breath before merging into traffic and continuing. "That could be good, right? That they let him go home so soon?"

"Yeah," she told him softly, "It could be."

He seemed to accept her answer, settling into the seat and fiddling with the radio stations as he drove. The silence this time was calm and hopeful, but Gabriella felt that the quiet was smothering her. As the trees blurred by her on the highway, she couldn't help but think that the stillness was like a building hurricane, threatening to spin away anything peaceful.

~*~

The neighbourhood that he guided the SUV through was quiet. Moderately sized homes lined the streets, their lawns sprawling around them with perfectly tended garden beds lining the driveways with two shiny cars per household. Here or there a child`s bike lay temporarily abandoned on a front yard or a soccer ball rolled lazily on a porch. It was so serene and perfect that it screamed of golden childhoods and stable family lives. Yes, Gabriella was not naive enough to think that these people were as flawless as their exteriors would like her, a stranger, to believe, but it still made the reality of her situation that much more hard to swallow.

Behind each door they drove past, she knew each family inside had their own story. Maybe their lives weren`t so stable. Maybe money was not as assessable as their shiny cars made the neighbours think. And maybe things weren`t so happy go lucky as the carefree children playing tag in the backyard. As the vehicle rolled to a stop beside the curb in front of a two-story, brick fronted home with a low slung porch and a two-door garage off to the side, Gabriella knew that no one approaching the Bolton home would ever guess that their world was not serene or quiet or peaceful at the current moment. No would guess that uncertainty rocked the family`s foundation.

Nervously touselling some life into her limp curls, Gabriella waited for the person in the driver`s seat to cut the engine and gather himself before pushing open the door, and then she did the same. Her feet hit the pavement and she looked up just as the front door opened and a tall man in his fifties that she recognized from pictures, stepped out onto the pathway. Jack Bolton shared many of his youngest son`s features, such as the broad shoulders and well proportioned chest and waist. The sandy blond hair that ran in the family looked like it had been harassed multiple times since being out of the shower and there were lines around his eyes that hadn`t been there when Gabriella met him once before when he was visiting campus the week before Thanksgiving. He offered her a weak smile as the two students approached the front walkway, turning his focus to his son as he folded him into an embrace that Gabriella could see was more intense than a casual `welcome home` hug.

She turned to step back, intending to unload the truck while the family had a moment of privacy, but Jack called out to her and no one present was oblivious to the pain in his voice. Lifting her face, she felt like her life was stamped across its planes; every secret bare to the world. The feeling washed away as she saw the tears shimmering in his eyes. Her worst case scenario rang in her ears, the finality of what she had told her boyfriend on the drive home crushing her.

"Dad?" he asked from beside her, and she shifted her gaze in time to catch the disbelief flashing across his face. His skin had paled and his jaw was set in preparation to deny whatever was coming. "Where is he?"

"Upstairs," Jack answered with an even look that made every word hold weight, "Harassing your mother to make chocolate cheesecake for supper."

"But they let him come home, so that's good, right?" Gabriella's heart broke as she got her first glimpse of the little brother in him. The hope was quickly extinguished and she watched the air rush out of him and take his strength with it. "He's fine, right? He has to be fine."

"Son, he's not fine," Jack replied quietly, his hand reaching across the space only for the younger boy to step away. "He's not going to be fine."

"But, I don't understand-," he stopped to swallow and Gabriella noticed how fast his breathing was. "-He can't be-They could be wrong-"

"They're not wrong," came the gentle response and Gabriella turned to see Lucille Bolton standing in the doorway looking worn and exhausted. "Believe me, I have argued that with them more times than you'd like to know. They didn't even have to look that hard to find it." The words seemed to choke her before she was able to continue, her husband using his calloused hands to squeeze her shoulders. "Apparently, your brother was keeping secrets."

"Secrets? Like what? What did they fucking find?" His voice was so low that no one could call it screaming but Gabriella knew it was only for the sake of the open door and the other occupant inside the house.

"He's been having dizzy spells for awhile. Vomiting, too, when it got really bad. The migraines were nearly every day and he's mentioned tingling in his hands to Chad more than once lately," Jack explained softly and Gabriella could feel her own assessment coming back to haunt her. "His grades were slipping because he couldn't concentrate."

"So what does that all mean?" He spun to plead with Gabriella, knowing that she would be able to follow the flow of information more than him. She had tried to hide it, but he could read the answer on her face. "The worst case scenario," he murmured, eyes shut to avoid anyone seeing the tears. He had caught the nod of her head though, the response to his question. "So what do they do? Gab said that sometimes there are options. He has options, right?"

"Honey, that's why he's home. It's gone too far," Lucille's voice caught and Gabriella wondered how it was she hadn't broken down yet. She was a mother losing her child and yet she was hanging on to strength for her youngest.

"But, he's twenty-one. It doesn't make any sense."

"I know it doesn't, but that doesn't mean we can change it," Jack reminded him. "He needs us, right now. All of us."

"How long? How much time do we have?"

"Six months if he's lucky; it's a guessing game," Jack murmured. "Nothing's certain anymore."

"What do I do?" He sounded so young to Gabriella then, lost and frightened.

"You go see your brother. You act like this was any other Christmas vacation. You introduce him to your girlfriend. He's still the same person, Buddy," Jack told him, winding an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. "He's waiting for you upstairs. He knew that we wanted to be the ones to tell you."

"What about Gabriella? She doesn't have anywhere to go, but if he doesn't want her here-," he stopped when his mother frowned and shook her head vigorously.

"Nonsense. He wants her here as well. Be ready for him to tease you, though; he's done nothing but talk about when you two would get here," she replied kindly, giving Gabriella a sympathetic look. "Take her up there with you and tell him if he wants cheesecake for supper, he'd better plan to eat the actual meal first."

Gabriella knew that no words could cut through the pain all of them were feeling at the moment, so she simply muttered a quiet 'thank you' and followed her boyfriend inside where he kicked off his sneakers on the mat and proceeded to the staircase off the living room. Pausing at the bottom, he turned to look for her, squeezing the hand she offered as she came up behind him. He searched her face for hesitation, but she had managed to hide it quick enough that he drew courage from her stance and put one foot on the stair tread.

"You don't have to do this now, if you don't want," he assured her, turning around to look over his shoulder, "I can introduce you at dinner, after you've settled in."

"I'm fine," she told him, giving him a fake smile, "Don't worry about me."

"Alright," he breathed, licking his lips and sucking in a heavy breath, "Let's go see Troy."

And Gabriella followed Andrew Bolton up the stairs to his brother's room.