Hi, guys! Took me a little longer this time, but here ya go!

Disclaimer: I don't own Cause of Death.

The next day came and went with little incident. Mal's first chemotherapy session was relatively easy, aside from the weariness he felt afterwards.

"You know, you could go home and actually get some rest."

Natara looked up from the pamphlet she was skimming over. "Don't worry about it. My apartment's a bit too cluttered to enter anyway," she said with a grin.

"I thought hospitals scared the living snot out of you?"

"No, they don't. Being a patient in one just makes me paranoid."

"So chasing a dangerous armed suspect is fine, but tiny nurses with needles are a death threat?"

Natara rolled her eyes. "Just forget it." She glanced at him. "Are you tired?"

"Yup," he said, yawning as if on cue. His partner stood and turned off the lights.

"Better?" He nodded, and Natara sat back down. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"You don't need to-"

"We just discussed this. I'm staying here," Natara interrupted. "You'd do the same for me."

"Sure would," he admitted.

Natara gave him a reassuring smile. "Just rest, alright?"

His eyes slipped shut, and she watched as he gave into exhaustion. Once he was asleep, she sighed softly. They hadn't discussed his illness since he had been diagnosed, nor what he wanted to do upon being discharged. Natara knew they would need to discuss it soon, because he would need somebody to stay with him.

Secretly, she was worried about him. On the outside, he seemed to have already accepted what was going to come. But Natara didn't fall for it. Her career involved getting into people's minds, and she knew how to read Mal like an open book. She knew he was trying to hide how he really felt, but she desperately longed for him to open up to her. It wouldn't be easy, but she had already promised him- and herself- that she would stand by him.

And that was a promise she refused to break.

CoD-CoD-CoD

The second chemotherapy session took place two days later, followed by radiation. It had been more difficult than the first, leaving him feeling weak and nauseated as he laid in the hospital bed that night.

"Mal? You still awake?"

He nodded. "Somewhat." He shifted uncomfortably. He was growing tired of being in the hospital, and longed to find himself in his small apartment once again. More than that, he wished that he hadn't been in the hospital to start. But he couldn't change that.

"The doctor says you can leave soon." The words were quite possibly music to his ears, and a small smile played on his lips. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"You sure? I mean, I'm sure taking down psychos more fun than babysitting me."

"Don't worry. I don't have a case, and Ken is taking care of the one you were on. You're out of excuses, partner."

"I guess so. So I can scurry it out of here soon?"

"If all goes well, in a couple of days. You'll need to take it easy, but yes, you'll be out of here."

He couldn't help but grin at her anxious tone. "Are you sure you're not gonna smuggle me out just so you can leave?"

"Hey, would you stop that?" his partner complained.

"Does it bug you?"

"Yes!"

"Then no."

Natara rolled her eyes. "You love to do that, don't you?" she sighed.

"Sure do," Mal yawned, followed by a soft groan that he unsuccessfully tried to cover.

"What's wrong?"

"Tired... a little sick." The doctor had warned him that the side effects from the chemo could settle in at any given time, and Mal was prepared. He wasn't looking forward to it, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was fight back.

He rested his hand over his churning stomach, and Natara grabbed the small trash can a moment before he sat upright. She rubbed his back comfortingly as he retched into the can. When he was finished, he collapsed back against the bed with a groan. Natara fixed a glass of water and handed it to him. He took a long sip, the cool liquid relieving him as it slid down his throat.

"You okay?" Natara asked softly. He forced a nod, cringing.

"Fine..." He closed his eyes wearily. "But I'm really starting to miss my own bed and my couch."

"Just two days at the most," she promised. "Do you need anything?"

Mal shook his head, then hesitated. "Maybe some ginger ale and another pillow."

"Of course." Natara left the room, and soon returned with the items he had requested. The fizzy beverage didn't entirely get rid of the sick feeling, but it reduced it enough so that he was comfortable. When Natara offered him the pillow, he shook his head.

"That's for you. I'm sure that even this bed is more comfortable than that chair."

"I'm comfortable," she insisted. "You need it more than I do."

"I only asked for it so you would use it. Humor me."

She sighed. "Alright." She inwardly admitted that she felt much more comfortable, and Mal smirked in triumph before closing his eyes. Natara followed suit, and soon, they both slept soundly.

It was around midnight when something stirred Mal from his rest. He wasn't entirely sure what, but his eyelids fluttered open. Natara still slept in the chair next to him, her hand resting over his.

Sometimes he found it hard to believe he had such a dedicated partner. Natara had been by his side for the last couple of days, only leaving to shower or grab them a bite to eat. And he didn't know how he would ever be able to thank her with simple words.

His situation hadn't quite hit him yet. He knew what was going to come, and a small piece of him understood that. But that didn't mean he was alright with it. Another part of him, larger than the other, hadn't fully realized the situation yet. The part of him that never wanted to admit how he felt.

Denial. The first stage of grief, as Natara would say.

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