My heart instantly sinks into my stomach as Vanessa utters those words. The lump in my throat is preventing me from saying any words, and I clutch into my stomach because I feel like I'm going to be sick.

"Is he okay?!" I ask, struggling to speak.

"I don't know. Mom just got a call from the hospital, we didn't get much information. We're all headed there now." Vanessa informs me through her sniffling.

"Can I come?" Alex asks quietly, and we both turn our heads to look at her.

"Alex, are you sure?" I ask, and she nods before stepping closer to me.

"This is your father that we're talking about, babe. I'm going to be there not just for you, but for your family." Alex says, and she rests her hand on my shoulder.

I grab Alex's hand and follow Vanessa down the stairs. Near the door, Brendan is trying to calm down my mother. Her eyes are filled with worry, and she's frantically pacing back and forth in the foyer.

"Mom, just breathe. We're all going to head to the hospital to see him. Everything will be okay, please just calm down." Brendan says softly.

"I can't calm down! Your father is in the hospital and his condition is terminal, Brendan. What if he doesn't pull through, huh?" Mom shouts, and Brendan pulls her in for an embrace.

"We'll be okay, Mom. I promise." Brendan says into her ear, and our mother weeps into his shirt.

Moments like this are rare with Brendan. When he's actually concerned about other people, and listening to how others feel. Trying to alleviate the persons pain isn't like Brendan, unless it comes to our mother.

Once we reach the bottom of the steps, my mother runs into my arms. Her tears wet my shirt, and her arms are wrapped tightly around my body.

"Rian, do you know—"

"Yes, V just told us." I say, taking a deep breath.

"Who's driving?" Brendan asks.

"I'll drive." I say, and everyone nods.

"Oh, God," Mom says, looking up to the heavens as another tear spills out of her eye. "Please keep him alive."

We exit the house, and we rush towards my car. I open the door for Alex, and she sits in the passenger side before I rush and buckle myself in. Vanessa, Brendan and our mother sit in the back, and the car is filled with so much tension that it feels like I've been trapped inside of a box.

A box filled with anxiety.

As I speed along the highway to the hospital, it stays silent in the car. Alex shakes her leg and gnaws away at her fingernails, which only makes me even more nervous and upset. Seeing her so uneasy makes a knot form in my stomach. I try to stay focused on the road, but my tears soon obscure my vision. I force them out out of my eyes, not caring about them as they fall down my cheek.

"Hey," Alex says, and her voice shakes. "It'll be alright."

Alex grabs my free hand, and she glides her thumb across my knuckles and spreads warmth throughout my entire hand.

"What if it isn't?" I ask, and she frowns for a second before pinching her lips together.

"If it isn't, we'll figure it out together. Not only will I be here for you, but your family will be, too." Alex says reassuringly, and I somehow manage to smile at her.

"Thank you so much, Alex. It means a lot that you've come along with us." Mom says appreciatively.

"Of course. That would be rude if I didn't give you any support." Alex replies.

I look over at Alex, and I can tell that she's thinking of her father. I place my hand on her thigh, gently stroking it to comfort her. Alex sighs as she looks out of the window, and the silence continues for the rest of the ride to the hospital.

~~~

The five of us all burst through the automatic doors of the hospital, and my mother runs up to the front desk.

"Hi, do you know what room Daniel Peterson is in? It's really important that I see him." Mom asks the lady sitting in front of the computer.

The woman arches her eyebrow at my mother before typing in something.

"He's on the 22nd floor in room 101, but only immediate family can see him." The woman says monotonously, and she continues to busy herself with other work at her desk.

"I'm his wife, and they're his children." Mom says harshly to the woman, and we all walk towards the elevator.

All of us cram inside, and there's nothing but the sound of Brendan anxiously tapping his foot on the floor. Once we're on the 22nd floor, we all turn our heads left and right while trying to look for room 101.

"I found it!" Vanessa exclaims, and we all stand in front of the door.

My mother reaches for the doorknob, and she bursts through the door before freezing where she stands. My father lays in the hospital bed, barely awake as he is motionless and pale.

His eyes slowly move around the room before looking at us. Even his eyes look cold and lifeless. That familiar heavy feeling forms in both my stomach and my throat, and trying to swallow them down to make them disappear won't help this time.

This is all too much to bear.

"Dad!" Vanessa exclaims, running towards his bed.

Vanessa throws her arms around him, which briefly startles him, but he does the same and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

"Are you okay?" She asks, and he just smirks.

"Come on, your old man has been hanging on for sixty one years, and I don't think I'm gonna let go just yet." Dad says with a wink.

There's a brief laughter that fills the air, and it slightly removes the heavy tension in the room. Brendan walks over to him, and they embrace each other before briefly smiling.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Brendan asks, and Dad nods.

"I'm fine," He replies solemnly. "Yes, I get that this was a scare for you all but I'll be fine. I'll probably be released from here in a couple of days."

My mother grabs his hand, gently stroking his thumb before they kiss. They stare at each other for a while, and he smiles at her.

Despite being in a hospital and possibly being in critical condition, seeing my mother still puts him in a better mood.

"Daniel," Mom whispers, and she places her hand on his chest, feeling his heart.

"Emmanuelle," Dad says back to her, and gives her a small smile.

They stay silent, just staring intently into each other's eyes. They're just taking in everything that has just happen, and the both of them are appreciating the presence of the other.

The silence between them isn't unsettling.

It's actually kind of calming.

"I'm just really glad that you're here." Dad says, holding onto her hand.

"I should be the one saying that, Daniel." Mom says back, genuinely concerned.

"I'm going to hold on," he replies groggily, and gives her a weak smile. "For us, and for our children."

"I know you're hanging in there, and the doctors are going to do their best and get you out of here and back home." Mom says softly.

She steps aside, and my father smiles at me before hugging me tightly. The embrace feels like the first, but the last all at the same time.

"How are you?" He asks, and I furrow my eyebrows.

He's in the hospital, and he's worried about how I am?

"Don't ask that. We should ask you that." I say, semi-harshly.

I want him to be honest with us.

I know he's probably doing this all because he doesn't want us to worry or something like that, but it isn't working.

"My goodness, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm fine!" He exclaims, and I cross my arms.

"You don't look so fine. You look so frail and just—, not in the very best condition." I state.

"That's just the doctor in you speaking, Rian." Dad replies nonchalantly, and I'm slowly becoming annoyed.

"Yes, and he's probably right. Listen to your son who has medical experience. He's probably dealt with something like this before." Alex says suddenly, advising my father.

"Alexandrianna," Dad sighs. "It's nice to see you."

"It's nice to see you, too." Alex replies, her voice sharp and crisp.

Alex purses her lips, and she mirrors my body by crossing her arms.

"You seem to still be in a pretty good mood." Alex says, and my dad smiles.

"A hospital bed and doesn't constrict my personality, Ms. Hawkins." Dad says, arching his eyebrow.

Alex doesn't say anything back, instead she just gives him a smile, hesitantly, before she grabs onto my hand.

"No, but seriously, what happened?" I ask inquisitively, and he sighs.

Just as he's about to answer the question, the door opens, and I see the doctor walk into the room.

"Hello, are you feeling a little better?" He asks, and my father gestures with his hand.

"Better than when I first got here, Dr. Quincy." Dad says.

The doctor soon introduces himself to the five of us, and we all greet him.

"What's wrong with my husband?" Mom asks worriedly, and I notice that her hands are trembling.

"Well, your father was very weak when we brought him here. He was short of breath, and his skin is very pale. These are symptoms of anemia, which Daniel has."

"How'd he develop the anemia?" Brendan asks.

"Anemia can happen when the red blood cells decrease, and the ability for blood to carry oxygen is significantly lowered." I answer, and Brendan nods understandingly.

"This young man must've done his research." The doctor says, and he sounds surprised.

"I'm a doctor," I boast, and I roll my eyes. "Just not at this hospital."

"Oh, really? How long have you been a doctor?" He asks curiously, and I'm growing annoyed at how shocked he looks.

"A couple of years now." I reply, and he smirks.

"Ah, so you're still relatively new." He says, and I scoff.

"Listen, you guys can talk about who's more successful than the other in a moment. Is he going to be okay?" Vanessa intrudes.

"Well, the anemia is a symptom in men who are over fifty years old with colorectal cancer. We're not exactly sure about how well his condition is, but we do know that he isn't well enough to let him leave the hospital just yet. We're going to have a close eye on him." The doctor informs us.

I look over at my mom, and her eyes are glossy with tears. I walk over to her, and she softly cries into my shirt as I hold her in my arms. The doctor exits the room, and my dad watches all of us.

"Dad, you're deteriorating more and more as the days pass on. Your condition is getting to the point where—" Vanessa starts, but she chokes on her words and begins crying once she realizes what his worsening condition will eventually lead to.

Brendan, surprisingly, shows some emotion, and he gives Vanessa a hug. The idea of giving someone a hug seems so foreign to Brendan, so he looks awkward and uncomfortable.

You know how everyone has a certain way of hugging? Like how some people hug someone from behind to show protectiveness, and others stroke the back to give reassurance. Or just a casual hug where you pat each other on the back.

I've only received pats on the back from Brendan when we embrace, not any other type of hug that seems to have some emotional connection behind it.

It's almost as if Brendan would rather stand on train tracks and willingly get run over instead of show how he feels. He tries to be macho, but at certain moments I can hear that cracking of his very stubborn shell that unveils his true feelings.

Brendan takes Vanessa out into the hallway so that she can take a breather, and my mother gives me a brief kiss on the cheek before doing the same to my father and following the both of them out of the door.

"I love you so much, Dad. Please just hang on. You'll be out of here soon, okay?" I whimper, and he nods.

"I love you, too, son. I know I'll be out of here, but I don't think that I'm going where you think." He insinuates, and I furrow my eyebrows.

What's that supposed to mean?

"What?"

"Never mind. Just go out there with your siblings and your mother, please." He instructs, and I hug him.

Alex hugs him too, and we walk out of the hospital room. In the hallway, everyone is silent, except for Vanessa whose sobs echo.

"Just remain positive. That's the key, Rian. This may be a weight on your shoulders, but it isn't a weight that you can't carry." Alex reminds me, and I smile.

My girl.

She must've taught herself that lesson a long time ago, and I guess I'll have to be the student who endures that very long lecture from her.

~~~

It is now around 10:30 p.m., and we're still in the hospital. He's been asleep for a while, and his breathing is even. Emmanuelle grabs his hand, and she carefully holds it so that she doesn't disturb his slumber.

"You're so cold," she whispers.

She's continuously running both of her hands over his, desperately trying to bring some warmth to him. The sight of her trying to pump back some life into him creates a twinge in my chest, and my eyes begin to water.

"Come on, Momma. We'll visit him tomorrow. I think the best thing we could all do is just go home and get some rest. Okay?" Rian says into her ear.

She nods quickly, trying to blink away her tears, but they only escape onto her cheeks. She stands up from the chair, turning around and giving Rian a big squeeze. He rubs her back gently while shushing her, and I smile while watching them.

He really loves his mother.

"We all will check on him frequently, okay? Your husband is going to pull through because he has you guys." I say reassuringly.

"I love you." She whispers to her husband, and she kisses his temple.

Emmanuelle grabs Rian's hand, and they walk out of the door. Brendan holds his head in his hands, and Vanessa is trying to keep herself awake as she's slumped in the chair.

"Are we going back home?" Vanessa yawns, stretching out her arms.

"Yes," Rian sniffles. "We are."

I place my hand in between his shoulder blades, rubbing his back for comfort and I rest my head on his shoulder as well.

"I don't want to leave him." Vanessa croaks, and I notice a single tear fall down her face.

Man, with the amount of tears that have been cried today could probably create another Hurricane Katrina.

I mentally scold myself for trying to crack a joke during a situation like this. There's nothing funny about the fact that Mr. Peterson's health is declining.

"I know, I don't either. But we need to just get some rest and relax for the rest of tonight. We'll visit him tomorrow, okay?" Rian suggests, and Vanessa nods.

Vanessa walks in front of us while Brendan wraps his arm around Emmanuelle. Rian and I are behind them all, and Rian holds my waist and pulls me closer to him.

Back at the mansion, after my very long and enjoyable shower with Rian, I go downstairs to get something small to eat before going to bed. I see Emmanuelle standing in front of the fridge.

She wears a long silk night dress, and it almost looks like a négligée. Underneath it, I can tell that she has something else on so that her bare body isn't exposed under the sheer fabric. Her grayish blonde hair flows down to her shoulders.

All of a sudden, I feel a lot more self conscious of how I look. My hair is still wet, and I threw it up into a bun, and Rian lent me one of his shirts that is a little bit too big for me, and I wear a pair of sleep shorts that are barely visible due to how big the shirt is.

My feet make sticky sounds on the marble floor, and I smile before walking over and taking out an apple along with some string cheese.

"Hi Mrs. Peterson." I greet, and she smiles after taking a sip of her tea.

"Oh, darling you scared me. Would you like some of my camomile tea? I've got plenty of bags in the cabinets." She offers, but I shake my head.

"It's fine, but thanks anyway. I just came to get a snack before I head to bed." I say.

"I'll be going to sleep shortly. Tonight the bed will be a bit cold though, because Daniel's not going to be there. Instead, he's cooped up in that hospital." Emmanuelle says, and my heart sinks.

I notice the bags underneath her eyes, and she sips her tea again before clearing her throat.

"I'm sorry. I've just been so emotional lately that I can help but blurt out what I've been thinking." She explains.

"It's okay, Mrs. Peterson. You can vent to me if you want." I offer, and she smiles, but I can tell that it wasn't a sincere one.

It took a lot of effort to create that smile on her face.

That's the thing about situations like this, it makes everything that used to be so natural to you become something that requires effort. Whether it be smiling or laughing or something else that nobody even thinks about.

"I just don't want to let go of him. I've known this man since I was twenty two years old, Alexandrianna. Do you know how old I am now?" She asks.

"You cannot be that old, Mrs. Peterson." I say, and she smiles briefly.

Her face really does not look like the face of a woman who's over forty. Emmanuelle looks very young, and almost angelic.

"I'm fifty. We've known each other for twenty eight years. That's only one year older than Brendan. That's more than half of my life. Having to let go of him will be one of the hardest things I'll ever do." Emmanuelle reveals, and my eyebrows are instantly raised.

I didn't believe she'd be that old.

"That's why I hate the topic of loss. You live with someone and love them so much that eventually you forgot what it was like to live without them. So when you have to be without them, you realize how much you need them."

"You're very wise for your age, Alexandrianna."

"I've learned over the years. It starts out hard, and the pain is still there but you just become desensitized to it. But when it gets brought up again, it still stings like it's fresh. That's just in my experience, though. Everyone deals with pain differently." I say, twiddling my thumbs.

"You're very right. I'm going to need to learn how to move on with my life and not let this drag me down."

"It's okay to grieve for as long as you want, but once that period of time is over; the healing and recovery period is next." I explain, and she nods.

Once she finishes her cup of tea, she walks over and hugs me. I lower myself so that we're closer in height, and she smiles as her familiar squeeze brings me warmth.

"Thank you so much, dear. Can we finish this talk in the morning? I'm very exhausted." She asks, and I nod.

"So am I. Of course we can finish this later."

Emmanuelle brings her lips to my cheek, and I blush furiously. She walks out of the kitchen, and I smile as I'm realizing how much of mother she's becoming.

I take a huge hunk out of my apple, and the sound of it crunching is the only thing I can hear. Everything else is silent, and the events of today replay in my head briefly before the sound of footsteps approaches the kitchen.

"Rian?" I call out.

"Nope, your boy toy is upstairs." Brendan says, and I roll my eyes.

"Please just take what you want and go. The day has been pretty stressful for everyone, and I don't need to hear your arrogance and awful sense of humor to make me feel even worse."

"Ooh," Brendan gasps, and gives me a wink. "I almost forgot how snarky you are."