Disclaimer: Neither Inception nor 50/50 belong to me.

Adam sighed and burrowed down into the couch. He vaguely looked at the flickering screen on the wall, even though it was a programme he wasn't even vaguely interested in. His mind flicked gloomily to the day's events, seeing Rachel in the coffee shop, then Ariadne, and then her with that guy.

His mouth turned down at the corner. That guy. Yes, he did have terrible dress sense - Adam had never before seen a man wear a shirt that was so unapologetically orange - but that didn't matter. What did matter was the fact that he looked as though he actually had strength and fitness. Able to run ten miles or go for a walk without feeling sick and weak and having to sit down. Able to actually go on a date without complaining that his back hurt or having to make feeble jokes to cover his baldness. Yes, Adam thought bitterly, given a choice between him and that guy, who would pick him?

He stood up, and wandered over to the refrigerator. He wrenched it open. Some cheese, he thought dully, maybe on some toast...

His cellphone began to bleep. He pulled it out of his pocket, and answered. "Hello?"

"Oh, sweetie," came the anxious sound of his mother's voice. "You haven't called!"

Adam sighed and gritted his teeth. Another reason why Ariadne would prefer that guy. He was willing to bet 10 bucks he wasn't constantly harrassed by his mother. "Hi, Mom."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making dinner."

"What are you having?"

"Um...cheese, with toast. And soup," he added as an afterthought. He winced as his mother sighed down the phone.

"Adam, you really should eat more than that. You're getting so thin!"

"Well, I do have cancer." He stopped. Too blunt, now he had upset her. He heard a slight sniffle on the other end of the phone.

"I know you do." His mother's voice had a slight edge to it. "And, Adam, I want to take care of you, but you make it so hard for me!"

"Mom, I can take care of myself." Adam realised he was losing the battle. "My toast is burning, I'll call you later, ok?"

He clicked off before she could protest, and slammed the phone down. His mother was stifling. He knew she loved him, and being an only child, had had attention lavished on him, but as he became an adult, he'd begun to realise it was smothering. She wanted to call his landlord about the paint on the house, she berated him about his diet, she worried about his friends...and that was before he got sick. He had wondered if his mother's attention was partially to blame for driving Rachel away.

He looked at the bread, lying limply on the counter. Great, he thought bitterly. Sighing, he put the slices in the toaster, and reached for the cheese.

"So, you met someone?" Eames looked at her, over the rim of his coffee cup. "Do tell!"

Ariadne blushed slightly. "Well, we met. He...knocked me over."

"Really?" Eames raised an eyebrow. "Very romantic!"

"Well, he was walking his dog." She looked into her coffee cup. "He was very..."

"What?"

She frowned slightly. "Well, I could tell he was cute, but he looked almost sick."

Eames put his cup down. "Maybe he wants you to play nurse..."

"Eames!" Ariadne went red. "Stop it!"

Adam got off the bus, and entered the hospital. Chemo. Four hours, letting his life drain away, where something that would apparently lengthen his life drained into him. He sighed, and trudged down the corridor.

"Hey Adam," the nurse greeted him. "This way!"

He followed. The same routine. Sit in a chair, get the halperin lock plugged in, then the IV. Today, he was on his own. He sighed, and let his mind drift.

"Hey, wake up! Its all over!"

Adam's eyes flickered. He felt the IV tube being gently disengaged.

"All done," the nurse said, smiling.

He nodded. Getting up slowly, he began to leave. Chemo left him tired, and drained. He began to walk to the bus stop, and as he reached it, a wave of defiance hit him.

Why should he wait for the bus? He was tired of feeling like an invalid, someone who had to be cosseted. With a surge of anger, he began to walk home. Never mind it was three miles, and he felt exhausted. He determinedly began to put one foot in front of the other. Despite the slowness, he could feel himself walking. Down the street, like a normal person. One who wasn't shackled to chemotherapy or facing surgery and who hadn't lost their hair-

A wave of nausea hit him. He staggered slightly, and grabbed a tree planted in the middle of the street, hoping it would subside. It surged.

Oh Christ...

Adam couldn't help himself. Bending over, he vomited over the base of the tree, causing disgusted looks from passers by. He felt humiliated, but as his stomach lurched, he found himself bending over again.

"Are you allright?"

He blinked. A voice - a British voice - was speaking. He turned his head, and realised with a shock it was the man he'd seen Ariadne with. He gulped, and felt the bile burn his mouth. The man looked at him, sympathetically.

"Come on," he insisted. "Let me take you to my office. I can get you some water."

Adam shook his head. "I'm all-"

He was cut off. The British man took him by the shoulders. "No you're not. Come on. I won't take no for an answer!"

Nodding dumbly, his mouth full of the sour taste of bile, Adam allowed himself to be led by the other man.

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