A/N: Fair warning - this chapter is a real doozy in terms of angst! I promise, though - there is a point to it. Thanks again for all of the awesome feedback - knowing that y'all are actually reading and enjoying this helps keep me writing! :-)
Between the five-car pileup on the freeway that had forced them to reroute through heavy street traffic, and the two tickets that Rufus had gotten along the way for running red lights (Wyatt was never letting his friend drive his jeep again), it took Wyatt and Rufus far longer to reach the hospital than expected. Unfortunately, while the extended drive gave Wyatt the necessary time to sober up, it also gave him plenty of time to worry about Lucy.
That Lucy had collapsed at all seriously concerned Wyatt, especially in light of her pregnancy. But it was her continued state of unconsciousness that truly terrified him. What if, as a result of the convulsions, she'd suffered some sort of brain damage? What if she woke up with serious memory loss, or even an entirely different personality? What if she never woke up at all?
Though Wyatt wanted to – tried hard to – cling to Rufus' wise advice that he focus on the fact that Lucy was 'a fighter', he couldn't seem to stop imagining terrible outcomes. As such, by the time that he and Rufus finally strode into the Emergency Room, his nerves were well beyond frayed. Was it any wonder then that he lost his temper when the Emergency Room attendant (who seemed far more concerned with the game that she was playing on her cellphone than actually helping anyone) informed him that he couldn't see Lucy, for no other reason than that Jiya was already with her? When she wouldn't even bother to notify Lucy's caretakers that he'd arrived, let alone arrange for Jiya to trade places with him?
"Listen you idiot, she's my wife!" Wyatt bellowed at the attendant, the often used lie that he'd hoped (until a few hours ago, at least) to someday make a reality automatically rolling off of his tongue. "My very pregnant, seriously ill wife! And there's no way in hell that I'm just going to sit around out here when my whole freaking world is falling apart right now back there!"
Wyatt smacked the countertop angrily, before finally reaching over it and snatching the cellphone none too gently from the attendant's hands. "So how about you do your job, and actually help me, before I report you to Administration. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to learn about how you decided your little game of…." He glanced down at the woman's cellphone screen. "…Candy Crush was more important than their patient's needs!"
"Wyatt, man, you seriously need to calm down right now, or you're going to get us kicked out of here," Rufus hissed, tugging at his irate friend's arm.
"I'd like to see them try," Wyatt snarled. Shaking off Rufus' hold, he glowered at the now cowering attendant who'd had the nerve to try to block him from getting to the woman he loved just when she needed him most.
"Um, s-s-sorry, sir. I didn't, uh, realize," the flabbergasted attendant stammered in apology. "Let me just…." She fumbled for her desk phone to ring the Emergency Room nurse's station.
Seriously frustrated by the seemingly endless string of delays, Wyatt paced back and forth in front of the visitor check-in desk while he awaited the verdict. If it came to it, he'd call Agent Christopher, and have her pull rank. One way or another, though, he was getting in to see Lucy now.
"It seems that your wife has, uh, been moved to the ICU," the attendant abashedly informed Wyatt a few minutes later, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him. "They've, um, apparently been expecting you. Both of you."
Tossing the woman's cellphone back across the counter to her, Wyatt loped off in the direction that she'd indicated, motioning for Rufus to follow.
Less than a minute later, Wyatt rounded into the Intensive Care Unit at full speed. He barely managed to stop himself in time to avoid barreling into an older, silver-haired man who was headed in the opposite direction.
"Slow down, son! Where's the fire?" the man chided gruffly, instinctively reaching out to grip Wyatt's arms in order to forestall the potential collision.
"Sorry. My…my Lucy…she's…they told me she was here." Wyatt explained hurriedly. He shrugged off the guy's hands, and then dodged to one side to go around him.
"Hold on," the other man insisted, quickly moving to block Wyatt's path. "You must be Wyatt Logan, then. Your friend over there…." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder, directing Wyatt's attention to Jiya, who was currently seated on a chair outside one of the patient rooms (presumably Lucy's), her face buried in her hands. "…Said you'd come barreling in here any minute now. Didn't realize she meant it quite so literally, though," he chuckled.
Frightened by the fact that Jiya appeared to be crying (her shoulders were trembling in an all-too-familiar way), and what that might mean about Lucy, Wyatt barely registered that the man was speaking to him. Pushing past him, Wyatt started towards his friend.
Once again, however, the older man halted Wyatt's progress. Slinging an arm around Wyatt's shoulders, he steered him towards the waiting area. "Now I know you must be anxious to see your Lucy, but how about you and I have a little chat first, OK?"
Having trailed Wyatt to the ICU at a much more sedate pace, Rufus entered the room just in time to see his friend twisting out of the stranger's hold, and slamming the man forcefully against the nearest wall.
"What the hell, Wyatt?" Rufus rushed to break up the apparent fight. Clearly, he'd been wrong in thinking that he could leave his hot-headed friend alone for even a minute right now.
"Wyatt, let the doctor go!" Jiya shrieked, the ruckus finally drawing her attention. She sped to Rufus' side, and watched as her boyfriend yanked insistently on Wyatt's arms until he finally released the startled, struggling man.
"Dang it, Wyatt! I know you're really upset right now, but you need to pull yourself together!" Jiya admonished, glaring censoriously at him. She waited until Wyatt's eyes met hers, and then made the necessary introductions. "This is Dr. Ramsey," she huffed, gesturing towards the man that Wyatt had only seconds ago pinned against the wall. "He's the specialist in charge of Lucy's case, so we kind of need him conscious right now, OK?"
Cringing in embarrassment, Wyatt promptly took several steps backwards to give the man in question the necessary space to recover himself. "Sorry about that, sir," he apologized sincerely, lowering his gaze penitantly to the floor. "I was way out of line. It's just…the whole universe seems determined to keep me away from Lucy right now. That's no excuse, though, for taking it out on you."
"No worries, son," Dr. Ramsey reassured him, rubbing at the back of his now aching head. "It's partly my fault for not introducing myself properly in the first place, I suppose. Besides, I'd probably have done the same if the shoe were on the other foot."
The good-natured physician took a moment to straighten and re-tuck his shirt, and then waved Wyatt, Rufus, and Jiya again towards the waiting area. "Now take a seat, would you please, so we can talk about Lucy?"
"How is she, doc? I mean, I know she's in bad shape right now, but she's going to be OK, right?" Wyatt asked uneasily, declining the doctor's invitation to sit. A soldier through and through, he felt certain that he'd handle whatever news the man intended to share with him better while standing.
Having already spoken with the doctor about Lucy's situation, however (and immediately shared what she'd learned with Rufus), Jiya knew better. "Come on, Wyatt," she urged gently, seating herself and then patting the empty chair next to her. "You're going to…well, it will just be a lot easier on all of us if you're sitting down."
Well that didn't sound ominous at all, Wyatt mused. Eyeing both Jiya (whose eyes were inarguably red-rimmed from crying) and Lucy's physician apprehensively, Wyatt finally did as he'd been asked to do.
Knowing from Jiya what was coming, and wanting to be of the greatest possible support to his friend, Rufus seated himself on the opposite side of Wyatt from Jiya, and anxiously waited for the doctor to answer Wyatt's questions.
"So how much exactly has Lucy told you about her condition, son?" Dr. Ramsey asked Wyatt after a short pause.
"Condition? Oh, you mean her pregnancy? Um, not…not a lot." More like zero, zip, zilch, but Wyatt didn't think that the doctor needed to know the exact details. "Why – did what happened tonight have something to do with that?" Though he was certainly no expert on pregnancy, Wyatt had never once heard of convulsions and extended periods of unconsciousness being typical side-effects of that.
"No, although it does have a significant bearing on it, I'm afraid." Dr. Ramsey sighed heavily, realizing that he was now going to have to be the bearer of more than one piece of bad news. As much as he loved his job, he thoroughly detested this particular aspect of it.
"So then what – there's something else going on with Lucy? Something that she already knew about?" Wyatt's eyes bounced questioningly between Rufus and Jiya, both of whom lowered their own eyes guiltily to the floor.
Jesus…exactly how many secrets had Lucy been keeping from him, Wyatt wondered. More importantly, why had she been keeping them? Even if Lucy didn't want a romantic relationship with him, they were still friends, weren't they?
Wyatt cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. His every instinct had been screaming at him for weeks that something was seriously off with Lucy, hadn't it? So why hadn't he pushed her harder for answers? Why had he allowed his fear of ruining their burgeoning intimacy to interfere with simply being the friend that she needed?
Correctly sensing that Wyatt was, once again, sinking into self-blame, Jiya reached over and clasped one of his hands in hers. The fact that he didn't automatically pull away – as Wyatt was wont to do when anyone other than Lucy touched him – confirmed just how utterly lost and low the poor guy must be feeling right now. Recognizing that things were about to get much, much worse for him, however, Jiya clasped Wyatt's hand even tighter.
"Forgive me for being so blunt, Mr. Logan, but there's just no easy way to tell you this." Trying to be as compassionate as possible, Dr. Ramsey leaned forward in his chair, and grasped Wyatt's remaining free hand with both of his own. "Lucy has a brain tumor – a malignant one. Based on what her primary care physician told me, Lucy has known about it for a few months now. Apparently Dr. Harrington spotted some irregularities in Lucy's blood work when he diagnosed her pregnancy, and after running a slew of additional tests, the tumor was discovered."
A brain tumor? A malignant brain tumor? 'Malignant'…Wyatt searched his stress-addled brain for the meaning of that particular word, his heart nearly stopping when he finally stumbled upon it. "Cancer?" he gasped, suddenly incapable of drawing a full breath.
No, that couldn't possibly be what Dr. Ramsey had meant, could it? Wyatt must have simply misheard, or…or misunderstood. Instantly recalling, however, the last time (just a few hours ago, in fact) that he'd been convinced of the very same thing, Wyatt was forced to admit to himself that he'd at least heard correctly. While his brain might not always function as well as he wished in times of turmoil like this one, his hearing…. Well, his hearing had never failed him, had it?
"You're saying that Lucy…." Wyatt swallowed repeatedly, unable to push the rest of the words past the solid lump of terror and anguish suddenly obstructing his throat.
"Has cancer, yes. I'm very sorry, Mr. Logan," Dr. Ramsey solemnly confirmed. "Unfortunately, though, there's more."
The doctor looked to Jiya, who nodded at him encouragingly. However harsh the news might be, Wyatt deserved nothing less than to know the full truth about what was going on with his girlfriend. "The tumor is entangled in a major blood vessel, which means that surgical removal isn't an option. Typically our next steps would be targeted chemotherapy or, at the very least, radiotherapy. Because of her pregnancy, however, Lucy has opted to forego all further treatment."
"Forego all further treatment? What are you talking about? What do you mean?" Again, Wyatt's brain simply refused to process what Dr. Ramsey was saying to him.
"It means that Lucy won't let the doctors do anything to try to make her better, because it might hurt the baby," Rufus softly explained, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces for both of his friends.
"But…but..." Wyatt flung himself from his chair, and resumed his earlier pacing, every last nerve in his body on the verge of short-circuiting in heated protest of what Rufus and Lucy's physician had just revealed. If the tumor couldn't be removed, and Lucy refused to let the doctors do anything else, then that meant that…. Oh god. "Lucy's going to…she's choosing to…." Wyatt rasped, the tears that he'd thought that he'd left behind in his apartment once again flooding his eyes. He didn't even want to think that word, let alone say it out loud.
"If she continues to refuse treatment, Lucy will die," Dr. Ramsey confirmed, knowing from years of experience that it never did anyone any good for him to sugarcoat his words.
No. Just…no. No, no, no, no, no! That couldn't be right, Wyatt's brain insisted. It just couldn't. He'd already lost one woman that he'd loved – he couldn't lose Lucy, too. It was one thing for her to simply not want to be with him. However much the idea of that hurt, Wyatt would at least be able to live with it. But this – Lucy dying…Lucy choosing to die – in order to protect the life of a child that, had he not been so freaking reckless, would never have been conceived in the first place? That Wyatt most definitely could not live with.
For the first time, Wyatt sincerely regretted having ever laid eyes on Lucy Preston. If he'd never met her, then he'd no doubt still be firmly ensconced in grief and self-loathing over the death of his wife – a miserable existence, to be sure, but a far safer one for everyone involved, particularly Lucy. If he'd never met Lucy, then he would never have come anywhere close to developing feelings for another woman besides Jessica. He'd never have kissed Lucy in some lame-ass attempt to prove their so-called 'love' to two of the world's most notorious criminals – never have felt the one-and-only-ever 'lightning bolt from the heavens' of his entire life. He'd never have allowed Lucy to entice him with the prospect of 'possibilities', or to goad him into admitting that the kiss that they'd shared in Arkansas was anything more than 'just playing a role'. And he most certainly would never have endangered her very life by repeatedly and impetuously proving her right.
This was entirely his fault, damn it. From the moment that he'd accepted this assignment with Mason Industries, Wyatt had had one main job to do: protecting Lucy Preston. But he'd foolishly allowed his heart to become involved. He'd allowed himself to care about Lucy – to fall in love with Lucy. And in doing so, he'd not only failed at his assignment, but personally failed Lucy as well, hadn't he? In the most spectacular way possible.
"So what's the prognosis, then?" Rufus blurted, sparing Wyatt the additional pain of having to ask. "Are we talking months, or years, or…?"
"Quite frankly, given the aggressive nature of this particular type of tumor, Lucy's already living on borrowed time," Dr. Ramsey replied candidly. "Without treatment, I'm afraid she only has another couple of months at best."
"And the baby?" Jiya prompted. Although she'd spoken with Dr. Ramsey at length before Wyatt and Rufus' arrival, it hadn't occurred to her then to ask about the child that her friend was carrying.
"At this time the baby is perfectly fine. Obviously, though, it's too early for it to survive outside the womb," the doctor explained somewhat sadly. "If Lucy can hold on for another four weeks, then there's at least a chance that the child will make it, although likely not without some permanent health issues. Naturally, the odds of the child surviving increase with every additional week of gestation."
"So what are we supposed to do then? Just…just wait around for Lucy to…to die?" Wyatt demanded, his voice cracking on the last word.
"Not necessarily." Dr. Ramsey shook his head, recognizing that – quite understandably – Wyatt wasn't thinking logically at the moment. "Treatment is very much still an option, assuming that Lucy consents to it. Unfortunately, that will put your child's health at risk, Mr. Logan, which, as I'm given to understand, is why Lucy refused treatment in the first place. Now that she's past the first trimester, however, the risks would be significantly reduced. The best option, of course – from a medical standpoint – would be to simply terminate the pregnancy. That would allow us to focus solely on Lucy, and what her body needs to heal. Again, though, she made it clear from the beginning that that particular course of action was out of the question."
"So what you're saying, then," Jiya ventured, glancing pointedly at Wyatt, and hoping that her friend truly heard what she was saying, "Is that – in order for Lucy to survive – we need to convince her to go through with the treatment? Even though it could potentially harm the baby?"
"Exactly." Dr. Ramsey nodded in full agreement. "While I know that that baby is currently Lucy's primary concern, the simple fact is that if she doesn't get treatment immediately, neither she nor the child will survive."
The room fell silent as Wyatt, Rufus, and Jiya attempted to assimilate the doctor's final statement.
"Where is she?" Wyatt finally asked after several long moments. He needed to see Lucy now – to be with her now – even if, given her continued state of unconsciousness, she wasn't capable of recognizing his presence. Now that he understood the real reason behind her puzzling behavior of the past few weeks – the real reason that she'd hidden her pregnancy from him – he wanted nothing more than to wrap her securely in his arms, and to never, ever let her go. Yet, in light of Dr. Ramsey's revelations, he knew that that wasn't enough. Somehow, he had to convince Lucy to choose to live – for him, for their child, and, above all, for herself.