Within the next week, America could already see the difference in the quality of Maxon's health. He grew more tired, circles forming around his eyes. He started losing weight even though he was eating the normal amount he always did. Sometimes he had days where he couldn't keep anything down. Work started to pile up on his desk as he had less and less energy to do it all. A week after the party, he could not even get out of bed.

Marlee and Carter helped America move Maxon's things up to his desk in their bedchambers. America sat in their bed and attended to her own work but got little done. At around noon, a guard told her that Kenna was outside wishing to talk to her sister. America stepped out quietly, careful to not disturb Maxon, who was sleeping.

"What's up?" America asked, leaving the door to their open a crack behind her.

Kenna looked unnerved. "I am so sorry to do this to you Ames but we have to go. James just got a call from his parents that one of his little sisters was in an accident this morning."

America nodded. "No, I understand. Go. I think I have everything under control here."

"Well," Kenna began hesitantly, "I was wondering if you would mind keeping May here with you? I don't think she's ready to be moved yet."

"Have you talked to her?" America suddenly asked.

Kenna shook her head. "No. I was never as close to her as you. However, Graham filled me in a little. He said that she really needs you."

America let out a long sigh. "Everyone keeps telling me that but what am I supposed to do? She wanted to kill me!"

"No one ever said anything about her wanting to kill you. I think she was just doing what she was told. She was young and stupid and I know that's no excuse but it was a long time ago. She basically grew up without us. The least we could do is listen to her," Kenna said calmly.

This was one of the times America felt resentment for Kenna boiling in her. Kenna was always poised and reasonable; everything America wasn't. Kenna would have made a much better choice for a queen. Then again, it was probably America's veracity that really won her the Selection. "The least I could do was not throwing her in a jail cell."

"So instead you put her in a servant's room?" Kenna asked. America didn't answer. "Look, Ames, it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. I know you have a lot on your plate right now but May is family, no matter what."

America slowly nodded. "Anything else?" she snapped, getting tired of the conversation.

Anger flashed in Kenna's eyes as a response to her younger sister's tone but she shrugged it off. "No. James, Graham and the kids are all waiting for me so I need to get going." She walked back down the hallway.

America felt guilty, seeing her sister distraught and not helping her or comforting her. "Hey Ken!" she called. Kenna turned and looked back at America. "Travel safe," America simply said but she knew Kenna heard what she really wanted to say: I love you. I'll do what you asked me to do.

America stood outside her door for a few more moments. Her silent reverie was broken by a crash in her room behind her. She spun and ran inside, along with one of the guards posted outside their room. She ran to the other side of the bed and saw Maxon lying on the ground, convulsing. America was temporarily paralyzed until the cries of her daughter registered in her head. The guard didn't even wait for instruction, he called for help and together two guards lifted Maxon and started to run him down to the hospital.

Georgina ran into America's outstretched arms. "Are you okay?" she immediately asked the young girl. She just cried into America's stomach and nodded. America gently pushed her away, kneeling down to look her in the eye. "Go with your brothers and play with your cousins, okay? They're down in the gardens."

Georgina reached a hand up to wipe a couple of America's tears away. "What about Papa?"

"Send Christian to meet me at the hospital, okay? You and Michael are in charge of Uncle Gerad's little ones," America said, wanting the comfort of Christian with her when she knew that the day was going to be another long one spent in the hospital, talking to doctors about surgeries Maxon didn't want them to perform on him that would save his life.

"Mama, I'm scared," she whispered.

America nodded and tucked a piece of Georgina's red hair behind an ear. "Me too. But you're a princess and you have to learn to put on a brave face no matter what, okay? So just do this one thing for me, please."

Georgina nodded and ran off. America wiped the rest of her tears off of her cheeks and followed the guards down to the first floor. She tried to walk in the room that was now reserved for Maxon for the timebeing but a nurse stopped her. "I need to see him," she told the nurse.

"Your Majesty, we have work to do," the nurse said urgently.

America shook her head. "No, he needs me!"

"Your Highness, please!" Dr. Macky shouted from behind the nurse. America could see that he was frazzled and distraught. "If you want your husband to live another day, you will allow us to work in peace."

Taking a couple steps back, America watched the nurse pull the door closed with a slam. She stepped up to the window and pressed her hand to the glass where she could see inside. Doctors were attaching machines and lines to Maxon, his clothes torn away from his body. The shaking had stopped but he was left looking deathly pale. Blood dripped slowly from his mouth.

"Mom?" she heard a small voice ask behind her.

She held an arm out for Christian, knowing it was him. He walked up to her and tucked his body into her side, putting an arm around her back. He was about her height at just the age of twelve and she knew that within months he would probably be towering over her, growing to the same impressive height as his father.

"Let's sit over here," Christian suggested quietly, nodding to a bench seated underneath a wide window that looked out over the gardens. He tugged on her arm but she didn't move. "Mom, c'mon, you can't watch this."

America nodded and sighed, following him over to the bench. She sat with her hands pressed underneath her legs, trying to think of anything but her husband lying in that room.

Christian pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. "Wanna see a card trick?" he asked her, shuffling the cards on the empty space on the bench between them.

She smiled, a small hint of pride blooming in her heart when she realized that he was trying to take her mind off of things. She welcomed the distraction. "Sure."

Maxon was required to stay in the hospital from now on. He had suffered a seizure, the overture to cerebral hemorrhaging which according to Dr. Macky, was expected with his infection. America always shivered at the word infection. Anger built within her over the subsequent days. There was this invisible killer that she was not capable of fighting. Only one person was capable of fighting it and he was in a medically-induced coma.

The days blurred together into a marathon of meetings with doctors, vital checks, and children passing in and out of the hospital. Kenna called America just to say that Graham would be stopping by the palace within a week to drop off the kids because she and James needed some private time with his family. America got the impression that Graham was absorbed into his family much more easily than May was.

Four days or so after Maxon first went to the hospital, America woke up and went about her new normal morning routine: get up, check on the kids, shower, get dressed, grab breakfast and eat it in the hospital. She walked through the kids' rooms and saw that Christian and Georgina had apparently gone out riding with Kota while Gerad had taken Michael to the gardens to play soccer. She sighed, wishing she could see the kids and get some hugs from them and then headed back to her room where her maids were waiting.

She stood in the shower and looked down at the bump now visible between her hips. It was small, probably only noticeable to her, her maids and Maxon if he weren't comatose. Water dripped down over her body as she put a hand on her lower stomach, just below her belly button, fighting back tears. She knew that if she broke down now she would never be able to put herself back together. She had to stay strong for her family and for her country but she had to admit that she had barely done any work in a week. She took comfort in the fact that the advisers knew Maxon and America well enough that they knew how to handle things without direct instruction from their sovereigns.

She asked her maids to just leave her dressing and makeup to her so she could have some more time to herself. She managed to hold herself together through that but as she walked downstairs to the hospital, she passed the portrait just recently hung of her, Maxon, Christian, Georgina and Michael. That's all it took. The portrait of capturing her seemingly healthy and vigorous family.

She collapsed into the chair sitting directly under the portrait and curled up in it, pressing her face into the back. Someone cleared their throat next to her.

In her periphery she saw Graham standing in front of her. "We really need to stop meeting like this," he said. She shook her head, not having the energy to respond. He sighed and sat down in a chair on the other side of the hallway, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. "You wanna talk about it?"

"You don't handle crying well, do you?" she asked.

"Most men don't."

She nodded, remembering her conversation so many years ago with Maxon where she had to tell him how to comfort crying women. "I'm just having a bad day."

"From the sounds of it, you've been having a bad week."

She rolled her eyes. "There are good things. The kids always cheer me up."

He nodded slowly. "That's good. I've never had the honor of having my own children. But I was married," he added matter-of-factly.

"What happened?"

"She died from a seemingly incurable disease. And anyway, I was just a Three, a meager one at that and couldn't afford proper treatment."

America frowned, seeing the uncanny similarities to that and her life now. "I'm sorry," she apologized quietly.

He waved her off and smiled wryly. "It was a few years ago. Time heals all wounds, right?" He stood and crossed the hallway, brushing a hand down the side of her face. "You can tell me what you're thinking."

"I can't. Once I say it, I can't take it back."

He shrugged. "But you can't take back the regret of never saying what your heart wants you to say."

She paused. "I want you to stay here."

"I see," he nodded, taking a step away from her. "I can't let you do that though."

She frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I've been here. I've been in this position that you're in right now. This is your heart wanting to fill the hole that Maxon will inevitably leave and I'm just the first person outside of your family that you've really related to in all of this and that naturally makes you think that you want to fall in love with me."

"This isn't something I'm imagining!" she defended.

He shook his head. "No. It's a defense mechanism. You're a great girl America but I'm not going to be a rebound. Use your family to fill those holes. Take time to care for yourself, your baby, and then let everything else happen. If you find yourself still wanting to be with me a year from now, then call me. But for now, I can see that I shouldn't be here."

"So you're just leaving?"

"I'm not going to stay America. I am not going to do that to you." He turned and started walking to the top of the staircase that led down to the foyer. "See you around America."

She stayed in place, stunned and confused. He was right. Unbelievably right. That didn't make his rejection hurt any less.

again, sorry for the longer update. though I'm done writing everything for this story it is hard to update because I haven't had much time. if you're reading my other Selection fic then you know that I've been dealing with this computer that has a virus and it is making it really difficult to update anything. hopefully I'm getting my laptop tomorrow though so that I don't have this issue anymore. anyways, hope you liked it! I promise, there are only a couple more sad chapters!