A/N: just a short chapter to keep momentum. It was part of a larger chapter but seemed it would be too long. Thanks for reading and for the reviews!

Chapter 12: Waiting for Something

12:10 p.m.

LaGuardia Airport, Hanger B, Queens

He was waiting for her just outside the conference room. Leaning back against the wall ever so nonchalantly, she sensed the purpose in his stance.

"J.T.?" Lady Jaye paused before the closed door, hitching her thumb toward it, the sum of her question evident in her actions.

J.T. acknowledged her with a slight nod before holding out a pair of oversized Ray-Ban aviators with dark tint lenses. "I asked around and one of the fellows in the tower had a spare. Thought you might need them."

She took the proffered glasses and placed them on her face. Sure enough, they did the trick, hiding the majority of her swollen eye. Blinking a few times, her eyes quickly adjusted to the shade. It was welcome relief. "Um, thanks. I appreciate it."

An uncomfortable silence followed. She knew he still had questions and she felt like she owed him an explanation. "Listen, back there. Um, about that, I, well, I thought it was the only way. . ."

J.T. interrupted her, "I understand that lady. I may look like I'm wet behind the ears but I played these war games once upon a time. Y'all have your thing you do but for whatever reason I have to watch your hide on this one. Just help me out?"

Lady Jaye felt the tension leave her body. This was something she could do and nodded in agreement.

"Well, that's settled then, partners?" J.T. held out his hand, which Jaye readily accepted.

"Partners." The glasses started to slide down her face and she pushed them up with her free hand.

J.T. chuckled, "I reckon those things are mighty big but I asked for Texas-sized ones to cover that shiner." He opened the door for her, "Man, I can't wait to hear this one."

12:15 p.m.

George Washington University Hospital, Intensive Care Unit

The afternoon air had the sharp crispness of the approaching fall. It was the undertones of coolness to the air that, despite the sunny day and relatively mild temperature, foretold the end of summer and the coming cold. It was different than spring. A cool spring day had a newness to it. As Sarah leaned her forehead against the window of Michelle's hospital room, she felt the bitter winter to come.

Glancing behind, she felt some relief that Michelle had finally settled down. This morning, Michelle's temperature spiked and she had floated on the edge of consciousness, tossing and turning, mumbling words no one could understand. Sarah tried to reassure her through the haze but knew that Michelle was far too lost for her words of comfort to reach her. Sarah had given up on prayers; she wasn't even sure she wanted them answered anymore. Would it be better for Michelle if she slipped silently away? Sarah shuddered at the morbid thought. Here her sister was struggling for a breath and she was thinking about what she would wear to the funeral.

Sarah walked the few feet and plopped down in the chair at the foot of Michelle's bed. The heart specialist had pulled her out for a family conference not too long ago, informing Sarah, with some hesitance, that there would be a point in time at which the constant cardiac seizures would take their toll on Michelle's body, depriving it of necessary oxygen. After that, the doctor wouldn't say. The doctor didn't have to.

Sarah felt like she was in a stasis, waiting for something. She sighed, stretching her arms overhead in an effort to keep awake. She tilted her head to the right, working on sore muscles. Try as she might, she had to acknowledge that her prayers had turned dark. Say Michelle did pull through, what kind of life would she have? Sarah couldn't ignore the resigned look of the nurses when they came in to check Michelle's vitals. They gave off the impression of going through the motions purely for appearance's sake. They were making an effort for Sarah, not Michelle.

Then there was Tom. What kind of box did she open by dragging him back into the picture? She hadn't lied when she told Tom that it killed Michelle when he left. It nearly did. After Tom slinked out of Michelle's life, Michelle spiraled downward into a dark place Sarah couldn't reach. Sarah was the one on the phone with Michelle until 2 am, reassuring her that life would go on, ignoring the sobs coming from the other end. Sarah was the one who had placed the discrete notice in the paper regarding the terminated nuptials. Sarah was the one with Michelle in the hospital, fighting for her life after the miscarriage caused her to hemorrhage. Where was Tom then? Michelle said not to blame him, that there were things Sarah would never understand, couldn't possibly know. Michelle said Tom's brother needed him more, that there was something very wrong with the brother. Funny, despite the approaching union of the two families, neither Michelle nor Tom had seen fit to introduce his supposed brother, his only living relative. Sarah called BS on the brother. She called BS on the whole thing. She hated Tom. She blamed him every day, literally ruing the day he was born. But Tom was back and fate rested on his shoulders. Sarah let out a half-hearted snort, to think, after all this time, she would be beholden to Tom.

That was when Michelle started to flat line.