Although they had gotten Jack's medication under control, it was still taking an enormous toll on him; Karen saw it more and more every day. He was growing weaker, usually requiring the service of a wheelchair to get around. It was only in the penthouse that he would shakily and slowly walk the halls. He walked a lot at night, restless and unable to sleep. Karen was worried that he was going to fall some night in the dark, but he wouldn't be contained. It was like he was a prisoner in his own body.

Now, three weeks after Jack had been discharged from the hospital, Karen grimaced as she reached to turn out the light on her bedside table, the arthritis in her elbow sending a shooting pain through her arm. She settled back down onto her pillow, but sleep would not overtake her. An unsettling feeling had come over her, and although she knew it was probably just her imagination, she couldn't shake it.

Quietly she crept down the hall, gripping the handrail along the wall that had been installed for Jack so that she wouldn't stumble in the darkness of the house. When she reached Jack's door, it was closed but she could see a thin string of yellow light glowing at the bottom, indicating that he was still awake.

Karen raised her fist to knock on the door, but stopped it just centimeters from the wood when she heard a soft sob from inside the room. She frowned, listened harder, and heard it again.

"Jack?" she asked softly, pushing the door open slightly and peeking in. Jack was sitting up in his bed, his glasses off with his hands at his face, weeping into them. He didn't even look up when she said his name.

"Oh, Jackie," she cooed, closing the door behind her and swiftly moving to slip under the covers of the bed next to him. As soon as he felt her touch he shifted his weight and wrapped his arms around her, continuing to sob into her shoulder as she shushed him and rubbed his bony back. "What is it?"

"I'm so tired, Karen," he cried. "But I'm too scared to go to sleep."

"You're scared to sleep? What are you scared of?" Karen rubbed her hand through his hair. "Have you been having bad dreams?"

"No, no…" his breathing calmed and he sniffled before speaking again. "I'm scared that…that I won't wake up."

Now Karen felt her throat tightening and her eyes stinging as she digested his words. In nearly 15 years of fighting with this, first privately and then with her by his side, Jack had never displayed any indication of fear of death. And it had never been something that had seemed like a possibility until only recently, and Karen was suddenly hit hard with the seriousness of his situation. Unlike the other rough patches they had gone through or all the times she had taken care of him when he had been sick with the flu or a cold, he wasn't going to get better this time.

"I think we're all scared of that," she told him, her voice soothing and gentle. She pulled back and made him look her in her glistening eyes. "Nobody ever knows when it's their time, though. If you let yourself dwell on that, then the rest of your life will be nothing but fear and sorrow." She stroked his pale cheek with her thumb. "But Jack, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you're happy and fulfilled. It doesn't matter how much money it will cost or how many nights I have to lie awake with you in this bed. I'm going to be right here with you."

He smiled weakly and she wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

"Am I really worth it?"

"Oh Poodle," she chuckled and tousled his hair. "You are worth every penny spent and every moment of sleep lost," she told him, repeating the same words Stan had told her all those years ago that had turned her life around.

Jack just smiled and leaned in to kiss her lips. When they broke apart, Karen lay down onto the pillows, and pulled Jack down with her. He nestled into the crook of her arm, resting his head on her chest and listening to her steady heart beat. He closed his eyes as he became comfortable, assured that she would be there with him - now and until the very end. This must be true love, he thought.

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to make it to our wedding," he yawned apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Karen smiled sadly to herself and caressed his arm that was draped across her stomach. She swallowed as she looked up at the ceiling, not altogether surprised.

"I know, Jackie," she kissed the top of his head. "Don't worry about that. Just try and go to sleep."

"Ok," he mumbled, sleep finally overtaking him. "I love you."

Karen shut her eyes tightly. Every time he said those words, no matter their meaning, they went straight to her heart. If only he could mean them like he did in her dreams, after they would finish making love, and he would whisper them into her sweaty hair.

"I love you too," she whispered. But he was asleep, and she was left to be the insomniac for once, her mind running wild with thoughts of the past, the future, and the burning affection in her heart for the gray-haired, youthful soul that was wrapped in her arms.