AN: Because it was asked of so nicely, I dug this out of the dust riddled collection of unpublished works.

The moment he'd opened his clinic he'd become everyone's personal doctor, unless of course it was something that needed specialized treatment, then he would refer them to an appropriate physician. All records and changes to anyone's chart came back to his office, though, so he still knew just about everyone's medical history unless they had decided to stay with their previous doctor. He'd never been offended and he'd never felt the need to badger anyone about their health. Even as a licensed physician, he wasn't exactly a spokes person or prime example on what and what not to do in taking care of yourself.

Emily hadn't seen any reason to remain with her family's physician, and as soon as he'd gotten the clinic officially open, had become his first official patient. She trusted him with everything, but she'd also never been very good at telling a nasty cold from the flu. If she was miserable, it all fell under the same category.

He kept better track of her health than his own throughout their marriage, and once they'd hit the age where certain exams and physicals needed to become routine, he hadn't let her skip out.

She was in her early 60's when they'd started the multiple testing, after a regular yearly physical where he hadn't been happy with the results.

She'd sat patiently and had grinned at how he always held his hand over the end of the stethoscope, knowing she hated how cold the metal was. She breathed at the appropriate times, staying quiet so he could listen, but when he'd positioned the stethoscope for the third time just under her collar bone she huffed.

"I do have a heart, in case you can't find it."

"That's not the problem." Jesse looped the scope around his neck and reached for the blood pressure cuff.

She had raised a brow and held her arm out obediently. "What is the problem?"

"You've developed an abnormal rhythm."

"Well you know doctors make me nervous."

"I'm sure they do." He'd grinned faintly before holding the end of the stethoscope against the inside of her elbow, returning the ear pieces, and getting a reading. Undoing the velcro of the cuff, he shook his head. "Your blood pressure is high too..."

"What does that mean?"

"Did you have anything with salt in the last half hour-"

"What at Flo's doesn't have salt..."

She'd watched him look over her chart as he spoke aloud, more to himself than to her.

"Your rhythm might be something as simple as a leakage-"

"Leakage? What would be-? My heart's leaking?"

"No." He shook his head and sat on the edge of the examination bed beside her. "The valves in the heart weaken over time, it just means that some blood comes back because the valve doesn't close all the way. It's common."

"How do you diagnose that?"

"You'd have to go for imaging." He'd set the chart aside and she could see him go through a mental checklist before he stood and continued with the physical. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, but when he'd gone to listen to her heart again he'd stopped and took her hand. "Relax, Em..."

A second reading was useless by then, she'd remained as calm as possible but the thought of tests and whatever might be causing this change had made her unusually anxious.

So Jesse had opted for another route, going through a line of questions.

"We'll you've got the rapid, irregular heartbeat...shortness of breath, fatigue or weakness?"

"I'm 62, love, of course I deal with that from time to time."

"62 isn't that old."

"With you, it is."

"See the mind is sharp as ever."

"Well with you it has to be."

He'd grinned again but continued down the form he'd flipped to. He read over it in silence before tossing it aside and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think...We'll do a CBC and go from there. It's not an emergency, you're fine otherwise..."

Her blood tests had then led to more tests and exams in the larger hospitals and when she was about to tell him she was done with being prodded at, they'd gotten the paperwork back from Flagstaff.

She let him read it, because she was sure he'd have to translate anyway.

Her personal care was far less formal than anyone else in town, and instead of opening up the clinic, he'd merely taken the mail in to the house where they sat at the table. He'd barely gotten halfway through the results when she saw his jaw set and his expression become tense.

"Jesse..." There were times now and then she wished he hadn't become a doctor, but the last time had been nearly 40 years ago during his residency. "What is it...?"

He set the packet down, brows lowered and she instinctively reached for his hand, apprehensive over whatever it was that was happening, but concerned for him as well.

"You're-" He paused, teeth clicking together as he sorted his thoughts, refusing to be too professional. "You're Class II, Stage A...congestive heart failure..."

She nearly shook her head in bemusement. "What? I feel fine-"

"And you are fine. Class II means that you're only fatigued when you exert yourself. Stage A means that there are a number of risk factors present but there are no signs of symptoms, aside from the high blood pressure anyway..."

"I thought you said it was normal this last time..."

"It'll come and go."

"Ok..." She tried to rationalize what he was saying. The term heart failure sounded so sudden and threatening that her immediate reaction had been to panic, but seeing Jesse fairly calm, while maybe still upset, gave her a little bit of relief. "So...what do I do?"

He picked up the packet again in one hand, her hand firmly gripping the other, and read back over the specifics of her results, speaking as he did so. "You need to alter your diet and lower your sodium intake...I'm going to overnight some prescriptions from Flagstaff."

They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing exactly what was happening and where she fell on the scale. She'd been relieved to hear they'd caught it early and that with medications it could be slowed to a stop or nearly reversed.

Her mother had dealt with heart problems later in life, though, and Jesse wasn't happy about that little piece of family history.

Overnight she was suddenly taking two medications and two vitamins daily.

Over the next few years medications were changed or dosages strengthened until she was put on something else. She had made sure to watch how active she was, and really, by the time she was in her late 60's there wasn't much she wanted to do aside from tending the flower beds in front of the clinic and off the back deck. She'd told Jesse he didn't need to cut back at the clinic but he wasn't exactly a doctor that kept regular office hours anymore.

Sally was a blessing. Emily had been thrilled when she had decided to stay in town, and when Jesse wasn't readily available if she needed help with something, Sally was always right there. They'd grown close in the years following Sally's accidental stop in Radiator Springs and more than once she'd chided the girl on spending her afternoons sitting outside with an old woman.

"You should be out with a crowd your own age, you might even find the one if you weren't sitting around here all day."

Sally had laughed the one time dating was ever brought up. "I'm in no hurry. It'll happen when it happens..."

"It happens when you least expect it."

"Yeah?"

Emily had nodded, going back to her coffee. "Trust me."

She'd grown used to routine check ups every six months, reviewing changes and where to go from there. Jesse was more than clinical when it came to her health care and whenever he felt something needed changed concerning her medications or something cut from her diet, she never argued. She'd trusted him from the day he'd graduated and never once doubted his ability, he'd given her no reason to ever question him in her own care.

She could see it wearing on him, with every alteration made and every change in her tests she'd see a resigned frustration in his eyes. There were more than a few check ups that ended in tears for both of them and he'd even asked if she wanted a second opinion, that maybe there was something he wasn't seeing.

But she trusted him, she'd always trust him.

Sally began to help more and more, even as renovations began on The Cozy Cone. She'd do as much as she could in the motel until it got to the point of some jobs being too big for her and allowing the men to take over. She, Emily and Flo would sit together at one of the round tables in the little courtyard behind the lobby and efficiency, where the older women would share stories of the town's origin and early years.

Emily broke the lull in their conversation one afternoon, the only other sounds being a tablesaw that Ramone was using while Michael and Jesse bickered over what building permit Sally should have by when.

"Don't let him get like he was."

Sally hadn't been sure what she meant, but judging by Flo's expression she must have. "Wh-?"

Emily's tone was low when she replied, tracing a bead of water condensation on the glass in front of her. "When my husband first came to Radiator Springs he was very withdrawn. He'd had a rough time of it and it took a long time to work through a lot of hurt. I'm just afraid that-" She hadn't really addressed the issue with the others, though she was sure they knew, she was no longer in the best of health and her fatigue was obvious even on good days. "-when I go...he's going to step back in to old habits..."

Sally's expression had shifted from surprise to confusion to grief in an instant. She knew Emily was in poor health but hadn't expected this conversation. Emily and Flo had already spoken at length and Flo excused herself to allow the two a private talk.

They'd gone back to sit on the deck Jesse had built in '56, on the porch swing near the back door, where Emily had very gently explained the severity of her condition.

"There's nothing else-"

"Modern medicine is a wonderful thing." She took the girl's hand. "But we don't live forever."

"You're not even 70- that's supposed to be like the new 50..."

"Sally, honey-" Emily had always known they had a close friendship, especially with how they spent the majority of the afternoon sitting together. She'd spoken comfortingly, petting the girl's hair and reassuring her that everything would be ok, even when the worst was happening with the current predicament, everything would be ok in the end.

She was tired, all the time, but refused the idea of a walker or chair and was silently thankful that Jesse had never asked or suggested she use one. He never left the house without making sure she had everything she needed at hand, he always had a phone on him, and she'd scolded him a few times knowing he'd only be gone twenty minutes...

Emily knew why he was that way, though. Old routines from decades past had become the norm again and he never left the house without her knowing where he would be or how long he figured a job or trip would take. She could very easily compare his actions to how he must have been with Ruth in the 50s.

What she wouldn't give to go back to the 50s...

It was the 2000's now and she was no longer a girl in her twenties.

The town did everything they could for them, sometimes bringing meals a few times a week. Jesse never touched them aside from picking, and she was sure there was a story behind that but never asked. If someone couldn't help physically, or bring something, they'd at least provide their company. The deck off the back of the apartment had become a general meeting place anymore and nearly every night there'd be at least half a dozen people chattering, or sometimes squabbling over any given subject.

They were also given their space, though. Jesse appreciated the fact that everyone in town seemed to have silently agreed upon only ever visiting until a certain time, and most evenings they spent on the swing, looking out over the landscape as the sun would set.

He kicked the wooden surface beneath them to get the swing moving gently, holding his arm up on instinct when she moved to rest against his side.

"You know it bothers me that you picked up smoking again." She muttered.

"I know."

He never did so around her, and it had started on those nights he just couldn't sleep, sitting in the garage and poring over every test and medical report. If he couldn't stop it, he could at least track the rate in which her health was declining and give her the best possible treatment available. Of course he wanted to increase the amount of time she had left but it wouldn't be fair to her unless the quality of life was increased as well.

She'd been feeling pretty well one particular evening and had woken up to find he wasn't there. Having a fairly good idea of where he'd be after 45 years of marriage, she'd stood in the doorway to the garage, watching in silence as he continued to work. He'd been oblivious to her presence until she'd moved down a step, and he looked up to meet her gaze while crushing what was left of his cigarette in the ashtray beside him.

She ignored it, because the look on his face crushed any of her upset. Emily stepped down the two remaining steps and stood beside where he sat at the work desk. It was a clash of worlds, looking at the Hornet on one side of her and a folder of medical forms on the other. Silently she'd reached out and rubbed her hand across the back of his shoulders.

"Burning the midnight oil?"

Jesse rubbed at his eyes. "Double checking...cross-referencing..."

"It can wait."

"No, it really can't."

"I think I'll manage the next several hours."

He'd only sighed and put an arm around her, staring at the paperwork on the table in exhaustion before finally speaking.

"I just wish I could do more. Em, I-"

"Even if you weren't a doctor you'd still do everything you could. Don't ruin your own health trying to do any more for me."

When he went to protest she pushed the papers back across the desk, forcing him to give her his full attention. Her voice was soft, but serious. "When it is my time, nothing can keep me here. Nothing. The very best physicians with the highest credentials can't keep anyone from dying when their time has come."

They both knew her time was running out, but she was going to do everything she could to keep him from isolating himself.

"You can stare at these files until you can't see straight but they won't give us the date or time I'll pass-..."

Emily hesitated, eyes welling up, and she attempted to regain her composure as he pulled her closer. Her voice cracked. "Jesse, until then...please just be my best friend. Stop dividing your attention. I want you here-" She gestured between them. "- not here." Reaching up, she tapped a finger against his temple before continuing. "You'll have more than enough time for that after I'm gone."

"I'm right here." He reached up to dry her eyes, and she couldn't help but notice the tightness in his own voice. "I'll always be right here..."

She nodded, unable to speak around the knot that had formed in her throat.

He'd tightened his hold around her, and they sat in silence in front of the Hornet for a good portion of the night, only getting up when they were too exhausted to keep their eyes open.

Jesse had kept her records in the clinic after that, only ever reviewing them if she needed something.

So they spent their evenings together on the back deck, sometimes at the small round table in the corner but usually sitting on the porch swing, reminiscing over any memory that came to mind. More than once they'd both lamented over never knowing each other during the years he'd raced in Piston Cup.

"Your brother wouldn't have known what to do."

"When did he ever know what to do..."

Jesse only smirked, shifting to get more comfortable in the cushions of the swing as they'd fallen in to a comfortable silence. He brought their joined hands up and kissed the back of her hand, looking at her when she began speaking again.

"You should go back...give them an upset."

He hadn't picked up on her train of thought. "Back where?"

"Piston Cup."

"No."

"Really, Jesse, it's been 50 years."

"Why would I?"

"Because it's who you are. You've spent-"

"The majority of my life as a physician."

"And I've spent the majority of my life watching you and you've never really left it behind."

"Yes I have."

"It'll give you something to do."

"I'm not doing it, Emily."

"Not even for me?"

She watched his jaw set and his expression darken. He stared ahead for a moment before looking down at their joined hands.

"Why would I go back without you."

"You were there without me before."

"I didn't know you before." He looked up to meet her eyes.

She only grinned faintly and leaned against his shoulder. "Because you'll still have a life to live when I'm not here."

"Won't be worth it without you."

"Jesse." She scolded. "Don't say such things."

"Well if it's true..."

"Stop it." She slapped his shoulder lightly. " You can think whatever you want, just don't verbalize it..."

She was so afraid of what would happen to him. Her confidante, best friend and biggest supporter, who'd shown her before they'd ever met that a name meant nothing, was once again going to be left alone. If just strength of will alone could keep her with him she'd have nothing to worry about.

She trusted him, but she knew him too.

She knew Jesse was going to emotionally collapse, possibly shut out the rest of the town and she could only hope that he'd find something that made him happy until they met again.

She hoped he still had a lot of time left.

Her tests and records seemed to have evened out, and while they weren't exactly encouraging, she wasn't declining at an incredibly fast rate.

Jesse was always right where she needed him, she'd barely have a question fully formed before he was helping with whatever she needed. Whether it was something as usual as reaching the top shelf, which had become a fairly common need throughout their marriage anyway, or help getting up from weeding the flower bed, he was always right there. She'd hold his arm to keep her balance whenever stepping in to shoes or if there was a step up or down much larger than usual. It had just become habit.

Emily felt guilty when they were stuck in the clinic on their anniversary, but July could be brutal in Arizona and the central air of the building was far better than the air conditioners in the house.

She'd apologized and Jesse had repeatedly told her it wasn't her fault. He'd advised they spend the afternoon there anyway...

"We'll just get something from Flo's."

"But try for something a little more upscale than a sandwich...it is our anniversary."

Their tradition of going away on anniversaries had come to an end, and even though they wouldn't have gone away that year, because it hadn't fallen on one of the five year marks they kept track of, they both knew it was probably the last they'd spend together.

Sally stopped at the house every day, sometimes only to check in, but usually she spent hours in the house or outside with the two helping with whatever project might be going at the time. She knew the house as well as her own efficiency by then, and had been told repeatedly to make herself at home.

On particularly bad days, she took the guest room she'd been given when she first arrived in town.

They knew things would never be the same when Jesse was forced to move a bed from the clinic to the house.

She didn't want the sterile atmosphere of the waxed floor or the bright lights. She wanted her home, she wanted what she'd built with her family over the last 46 years.

She wasn't immobile, she could still do for herself but in small amounts at a time with frequent rests in between, and she'd gotten in to the habit of chiding Jesse lightly if he tried to do too much for her.

"I'm capable of putting sugar in tea, thank you."

He'd only lean back against the counter and murmur an agreement, watching her quietly.

Sally hadn't been too surprised when Emily asked for her to over see drafting a will together, but had been surprised that she didn't want her husband to do it.

"I have family living that-" Emily had paused and glanced toward Jesse as they sat at the kitchen table. "Well, I have a brother who would find it a conflict of interest, think that Jesse influenced my decisions."

"Or just wrote it myself..." He huffed.

Sally had been surprised, going through the different statements and records, as to how Emily was so connected to such a popular sport, had been given quite the inheritance from her father decades ago and immediately understood Emily's comments concerning her brother.

"So you want this transferred in to Jesse's name-"

"No." Emily shook her head and Sally raised a brow.

"We want it divided equally between these four foundations."

Sally had taken the slip of paper from her, glancing between the two before reading over the list. They'd done their homework, finding small but reputable agencies that helped those struggling with different ailments, there was no corporation on the list known for skimming funds from the people they were supposed to be helping.

"Any personal belongings will go to Jesse, but you're free to have whatever he might not want.'

Sally had blinked a few times, looking up from the notepad she'd been taking notes in and looked between the two. Emily sat upright, Jesse slouched in the chair beside her, one leg propped on the knee of the other, a hand fisted against the side of his head and his other hand over the arm of the wooden chair. Emily had taken his free hand and they stayed that way the rest of the meeting.

"I'll leave my part out." Sally muttered.

"Probably a good idea." Emily replied with a look toward Jesse. "Alex would still find some conflict there. Just put it all in Jesse's name."

Jesse was constantly being hounded by the others in town to make sure he was eating, to make sure he was still taking care of himself as well. The more Emily was forced to remain indoors, the less anyone saw of him as well.

Frequent visits from everyone became the new normal, and Emily was proud of how well Jesse accepted the constant stream of people in and out of the house. She knew he hated it, but he hadn't said a word concerning it.

Instead of them going out, the others came to them. On any given day, there could be ten or more people in and out of the house. Where she used to walk over to Filmore's because no one else seemed to know where to get real Earl Grey tea, he would bring it to them. When she couldn't tend the flowers anymore, she became teary eyed when Jesse explained that Red was making sure they were fine.

When she wanted Jesse to at least take a walk, Michael stayed in the house and kept her company.

Most nights it was Michael, Ramone, Flo and Sally that stayed later. The older generation reminiscing and relating stories to Sally and sharing anecdotes of events long past.

Sally enjoyed those nights, and while spirits were high, she'd still notice looks between Emily and Jesse now and then. They both knew there wasn't much time.

She hoped she found something like what they had someday. Her parents had divorced before she was 10, they'd barely made it 8 years. She couldn't imagine something that lasted more than 40...

Radiator Springs had grown used to the new routine concerning the rich girl who preferred the simple life.

Until one morning town was exceedingly quiet.

The phone rang at the cafe and the few that were up that early looked expectantly at Flo as soon as she'd hung up the phone and busied herself with getting a large styrofoam to go cup of soda, leaving the main door of the cafe and meeting Jesse on the sidewalk.

"What can we do, honey."

"Nothing." He'd replied lowly, eyes shining as he took the cup from her, because something as simple as a Sprite was an odd request when you were dying.

"Is-"

"It doesn't look good." Jesse had answered while pushing the lid on to the cup more securely. The fact that his voice was barely above a harsh whisper fold Flo what she needed to know.

"Tell her we love her."

He'd only nodded, turning back for the house as she had spoken.

She'd rounded the counter and thrown her breakfast plate in the trash, looking at the spot at the counter Emily had claimed as her own the moment they'd met.

For a town that had become so quiet over the years, it took on a whole different silence the rest of the day.

Jesse stared at the monitors that had been moved over to the house, he'd gotten used to sitting at the edge of the hospital bed and would fall asleep on occasion while keeping track of her numbers. He'd wake up when she'd run her fingers through his hair and panic over how long he'd slept.

He sat with an arm propped on the side of the bed, watching the monitors while she brushed a hand over his ear.

"That scar never really disappeared."

"Stitches weren't a refined art back then."

"Does it ever hurt."

"No..."

After a moment she spoke again. "I'm glad you never lost any hair."

He laughed in surprise, despite the situation.

"I am. You just wouldn't look right."

"I thought we hadn't married for looks."

"Well it helps."

He'd grinned faintly, shifting to sit closer and watching her with a fond and heartbroken smile. "I'm going to miss you."

"You'll be alright."

"I don't want to be alright."

He'd always expected to be the one to go first, he didn't want to watch her like this.

He'd walked multiple people through their last stages of life, he knew the signs, he knew the science of it, but it never got any easier. He wouldn't want anyone else to be with her during this time but he hated it.

They spent hours alone and he'd periodically ask if she was in any pain, what he could do for her and her answer was always the same.

"Just be here."

The topic suddenly took a drastic shift to the 50s and Emily spoke of how she'd followed his career from his first official race and how she'd never had the nerve to speak to him. What was a street smart, handsome, moonshiner going to want with a sheltered aristocratic girl who'd had everything handed to her in life.

"You'd be surprised." Jesse muttered good naturedly.

She was so tired, her limbs felt heavy and her eyelids especially. She took his hand as firmly as she could. "You know I love you."

"Mmm, I know." He murmured. "I love you, too."

She went on to explain how important he was to her, how proud she'd been of him during medical school and how she was still proud of him. She thanked him for being the one her soul loved, and how in a world where relationships had grown to become so trivial, that they had withstood the test. That even through arguments, times of stress and especially now, he'd never stopped caring for her. She wanted him to know she'd never stopped either.

Jesse of course reciprocated. With a thin smile, his brows drawn together and expression pained he'd glanced up at the monitors briefly and back at her. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek and muttered in a strained tone.

"Tell Ruth I said hi..."

"Mmhmm, I can't wait to hear what a horrible brother you were."

He huffed in pained amusement, studying her face in silence before whispering, "Rest, Em. You deserve to."

She'd fallen asleep shortly after, and he'd stayed at her side until late in the afternoon, forcing himself to breathe as he recorded her time of death.

Michael found him in the clinic, leaning back against the desk pinching the bridge of his nose. He made no move to hide the fact that he'd been crying, or could again at any moment.

Jesse had called the cafe as soon as he'd gotten off the phone with the appropriate connections he'd needed to verify with.

Flo had been sure of what she'd be told even before picking up the phone, and Jesse's muttered 'she's gone' had been enough.

Sally had made sure to go with him when he made sure all arrangements were handled, she was afraid to really leave him alone for any length of time. Emily had asked that they make sure he was ok, and that's what she was going to do.

The day of the funeral had been gorgeous, and it felt a little wrong to be taking a loved one to their final resting place in such beautiful weather.

A number of people Sally didn't know had come in from around the country and she'd briefly met Emily's brother, quickly learning why she had left him out of her will at all. She thought people mellowed with age but he was something else entirely.

Looking across at Doc, because calling him Jesse without Emily there seemed strange, during the few remarks Alex had made, it was hard to tell his thoughts. Doc's expression had revealed nothing, but he hadn't looked in his brother-in-law's direction, he'd stared at the photos in the ceremony program.

It was his comments that made Sally cry. He wasn't speaking to them, he was speaking to her.

Sally felt like she shouldn't be listening, it wasn't something for her to feel better, it was his heartfelt response and feelings on losing his wife. He didn't speak as long as she had expected but it was more emotional than anyone else that had gone forward. His last comment hit her the hardest.

"46 years of marriage might seem like a lifetime to some, but it's not enough. It's not nearly enough."

He tapped a heavy envelope against his mouth a few times before stepping aside from the small podium and tucking the parcel under the flower arrangement. If he said anything else, it was spur of the moment, but they didn't need to know what she meant to him or how he felt.

She was the only one who needed to know and it was all written in black and white. He'd sealed his heart in a cream colored enveloped and addressed it to her.

For weeks following, instead of checking on her, they were checking on him, wanting to help in any way they could as he figured out how to manage such a loss.

Sally had gotten in to the habit of staying with him for hours, and he'd become resigned to the fact that she wasn't going to leave him alone.

On one particular afternoon he hadn't been in the clinic or the house, so she'd wandered to the deck to find him at the table.

"What do you want, Sally."

"Nice to see you too, Doc."

He'd only offered a thin smile before going back to the paper in front of him.

"I brought lunch."

He glanced up at her, and she stared for a moment at her reflection in his sunglasses before he folded the paper and set it aside.

"You're as bad as she was."

Sally unpacked the picnic bag on the table and sat across from him. "Someone has to look out for you."

He grinned faintly, more at ease than he'd expected to be after Emily's passing, but there were good days and bad, this just happened to be a good day.

"She loved you, you know."

Sally glanced up, pausing in dividing the stack of napkins. "I do...I wish we'd met sooner."

Emily, and Doc she figured, loved her for her, because while he'd never actually said it, she'd lived in that house for a while. She knew they'd never had kids but she certainly felt like a daughter whenever she was with either of them.

"I loved her too, still do-" Sally amended. "You're both very special to me."

He grinned, and she was encouraged to see him reach for the covered dish she'd unpacked. "We both always thought the world of you."