Chloe Lane was rudely awakened - again - when her oncologist and his team
of residents, interns, and students came marching into her hospital room at
5:30 AM. This would have been fine if they just wanted to look at her, or
read some numbers off the IV pumps. The nurses, she knew, came in several
times during the night to do just that. The doctors, however, were a
different story. They actually wanted to talk to her. How was she
feeling? How were her spirits? Had she been nauseous? Did she have any
questions? Chloe was continually astounded by these questions. How in the
heck did they think she was feeling? Here she was, lying in bed with a
deadly disease, being pumped full of highly toxic chemicals, and awake at
flipping 5:30 in the morning! Lord. For a highly trained team of
specialists, they sure could be dense. This morning, however, she had a
complaint to register. If there was anything this disease had taught her,
it was to be more assertive. Already she had managed to finagle the
cafeteria staff into giving her 2 slices of pumpkin pie every time it came
up on the menu.
"I'm tired of not being able to have any visitors. I'm lonely, and it's boring with no one to talk to," she said.
"Chloe," Dr. Murphy answered, "it's better if you don't have visitors. You need to rest, and keep your strength up. I understand you're lonely and bored, and we'll see what we can do about that, but for the time being, I'd really like to limit your visitors."
For crying out loud, Chloe thought, what did they think she was going to do? Organize a pickup game of basketball? How much strength did it take to lie in bed and have a conversation? She knew, however, that this was not a good time to protest Dr. Murphy's answer. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to be swayed right here in front of all these student types he had to impress. She made a mental note to do something about the situation, and as the doctors murmured a few final comments to each other and walked out the door, she rolled over and went back to sleep.
At least she tried to. More and more, Chloe found herself distracted by her own thoughts, finding it hard for her to fall asleep. Sure, she put on a brave face for everyone - the doctors, her parents, her friends - and she intended to continue, but sometimes it just got to be too much. Truth be told, she was scared out of her mind. Cursing herself for reading those damn Lurlene McDaniel books where everyone died, Chloe wanted desperately to be dependent on someone or something. She wanted Nancy or Craig to spend the night, curl up in the reclining chair on the other side of the room and stay with her. But neither of them had offered, and she wasn't going to ask. No sense in further burdening them, her disease had done enough of that already. She was scared that she would die - or that she wouldn't, but would ruin her chances of ever making her living as a singer. Without an outlet for her music, there was no point in living. Mostly she wanted to be held - rocked, even - and just cry. But she wouldn't let herself do that. Nancy was so stressed out already that Chloe couldn't let her mother see how absolutely freaked out she was. No, she needed to deal with this on her own, and that's exactly what Chloe intended to do. With a deep breath, and a renewed resolve to be a strong, independent woman of the 21st century, Chloe Lane rearranged her pillows and drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
She awoke several hours later, the incessant knock on the door beginning to aggravate her.
"Come in," she mumbled. She rubbed her eyes tiredly before looking towards the door. Chloe was surprised to see Dr. Marlena Evans walk into the room. As always, her best friend's mother was well-dressed, put together, and wearing that kind-but-not-condescending smile.
"Good morning, Chloe," said Marlena, "how are you feeling?"
"I'm, um.okay.I think.." Chloe attempted to lift the fog from her brain and focus on Dr. Evans. She blinked her eyes a few times and sat up, the motion inducing another wave of nausea to wash over her. "Ugh.," she murmured, and closed her eyes.
"Chloe, I came by to visit with you for a while, bring some messages from your friends and such. I didn't mean to wake you up."
"No, no, it's okay," Chloe replied, yawning as she picked up her watch from the bedside table. Eleven fifteen. Eleven fifteen? How did it get to be so late?
"Why don't I come back in a little while? A half-hour or so? That'll give you some time to wake up and collect yourself. We can chat over lunch."
"Okay," Chloe sleepily murmured, trying to comprehend this seemingly complex statement. She blinked her eyes again, watched Marlena leave the room, and wondered how a person lying half-naked and completely sick in a hospital bed goes about collecting herself.
She glanced over and saw the breakfast tray sitting on the table across the room, cold by now, she was sure. Not that it was any good, or even if it was, that she would be able to keep it down. Returning her gaze to the bedside table, Chloe saw two slips of paper which turned out to be notes from each of her parents. Apparently both had dropped by earlier in the morning while she was still sleeping. She was disappointed that she had missed them, but knew that Craig would check in on her several times during the day, and Nancy would come by after she got done with the radio show. Speaking of which, what was Nancy's latest topic for that show? Chloe never knew (nor cared, up until now) what Nancy did or said on that excuse for attention she had stolen right out from under Marlena. Suddenly, however, it occurred to Chloe that Nancy might very well be discussing the implications of having a seriously ill child and how it changes one's life. Lord, she would be mortified.
"God," she prayed, "please don't let her talk about me or my being sick. PLEASE!" With that, Chloe attempted once again to sit up, a little more slowly this time. She pulled a hand mirror out of the drawer in the bedside table and looked at herself. Geez, she was pale. She reached deeper into the drawer and found the makeup Belle and Mimi had brought her, the last time they'd actually been allowed in the room. Chloe skillfully applied the makeup, and then picked up her hairbrush. With the first stroke of the brush, Chloe knew. It was starting. The thing every doctor had warned her of was indeed happening. She was losing her hair. Not in big clumps, like some people on chemotherapy. Each gradual stroke of the brush brought more and more hair out with it. She knew from what she had been told, that once it started, it would likely all be gone within a week or two. Great.
Chloe was just finishing propping up some of the extra pillows she'd demanded from the nurses when Dr. Evans came back. The two of them struck up a conversation, and Chloe could tell almost immediately that her parents had put Marlena up to this. Dr. Evans was obviously trying to find out how Chloe was "dealing with all of this." Odd, thought Chloe. It's not like Belle's mom to be so transparent.
As she tuned back in to what the psychiatrist was saying, Chloe's brain registered something about counseling. "Oh no, no, that's really not necessary," Chloe said, trying to be polite and conveniently pushing her early-morning depression to the back of her mind. She'd handled plenty of crap in her life just fine, thank you, and darned if she wouldn't handle this too.
"Alright, Chloe. I understand your reluctance to get involved with a counselor," Marlena was saying. "You know I'm always here, though. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."
And then it clicked.
"Actually," Chloe interrupted, "there is something. Can you find a way to get me some visitors? I think that, mentally, it would do me a world of good to see some friends," she said, and then described her conversation with Dr. Murphy and his refusal to allow her visitors.
"Chloe, I think you're right. I'll see what I can do," Dr. Evans answered, and with that, stood up to leave. "Belle, Brady, Shawn, and Mimi all send their love and hugs. They're dying to see you, too. In fact, the last time Belle visited, she noticed you looked sort of pale, so she sent this along." Marlena reached into her purse and pulled out a brand-new tube of lipstick. "Belle saw this the other day, and thought it would be the perfect shade for you. I'll let her know you miss her, and tell her you're looking better and in good spirits."
She walked toward the door as Chloe said, "Thank you Dr. Evans...thanks for everything."
As the door clicked shut, a lone tear trickled down Chloe's cheek. Stop it, she thought! No crying allowed; no pity parties! With a corner of the stiff hospital blanket she wiped away the tear, rolled over, and went to sleep.
* * * * *
"Knock, knock!" came the oddly familiar voice, permeating Chloe's dream state, an event that disappointed the patient, who happened to be dreaming about.that.very same voice?!?!
"Huh?" she mumbled, attempting to separate fact from fiction as she struggled to open her eyes. "Brady?" she questioned aloud.
"It's me," the voice replied. "I brought Belle and Mimi along, too."
Just then Chloe's vision cleared, and she saw that indeed, Brady, Belle, and Mimi were standing in her room, each holding several large bags of what appeared to be gifts.
As they each in turn came over to hug and kiss the patient, Chloe's mind wandered to the bags. Just what I need, she thought, more presents. When you were in the hospital, everyone you knew felt obligated to send a gift. That was all well and good; however some of the gifts had quickly worn out their usefulness - if they had ever been useful to begin with. For instance, what did Great-Aunt Melanie think Chloe was going to do with an engraved pewter picture frame? And the flowers. Good grief, more flowers came every day, usually from Phillip. Along with lots of flowers, Phillip had sent plenty of gifts, most of which were carefully thought out. Lord knew the boy had good intentions, but since most of the presents appeared to be exhibits in his argument for why the two of them still belonged together, they frequently frustrated her more than cheering her up. Chloe hoped these shopping bags full of presents weren't going to be more things she had to pretend to appreciate, things Nancy would undoubtedly make her write thank-you notes for. Just then Brady walked up to her bed and whispered, "hey Diva," in that gorgeous voice of his, pushed a few strands of hair off her shoulder and away from her face, and kissed the top of her head. He'd been doing this a lot more frequently, and it was something Chloe adored, although she'd never told him so, and likely never would.
"How did you guys get in here?" Chloe asked.
Brady grinned. "Mom pulled some strings," he said.
"Yeah, she thought it would lift your spirits a little if you could see some of your friends," Belle finished.
"And boy are we glad we got in," said Mimi, practically shouting. "We have a ton of work to do! -- Ow!"
Belle not-too-subtly kicked Mimi, as Chloe asked, "Work? What kind of work do you have to do?"
"Uh, nothing," replied Mimi, attempting to recover.
"Right.," said Chloe. "Might this have something to do with all those presents you brought me?"
"It might...," Mimi answered evasively. Then giving in, "Okay, it does."
"So let me see them," said Chloe, sounding mildly exasperated.
"Well.you can't see them.at least not yet," said Mimi.
"What? Mimi, what is the point of bringing me presents that I am not allowed to open?"
"You'll get to open them.sort of.later," Belle jumped in. This conversation was going nowhere fast, and she needed to save it. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and in walked Dr. Murphy.
"Sorry kids," he said. "I know I authorized this visit, but I have to break up the party now."
"Aaaw.," whined the girls. "We just got here."
"I know," replied the doctor, "but I have to take Chloe to have a spinal tap done."
"A what?" asked Chloe.
"Well, basically what this procedure involves is, well, we're going to slide a very thin needle into your spinal canal and draw out some of the fluid to test it."
"Oh no you don't!" cried Chloe. "I'm not doing that alone! Brady's coming with me!"
"Uh.," Brady stammered, as Dr. Murphy calmly replied,
"Chloe, it's just not -"
"Stop! I said Brady's coming! End of discussion."
Dr. Murphy sighed. "Alright," he said, and looked at Brady, "but you'll have to stay where we tell you to."
"Of course," he answered, glad to be able to do something to help Chloe.
Belle and Mimi exchanged a clear "I told you so" look that went unnoticed by no one in the room.
"Chloe, we'll just stay here in your room and wait for you to come back. We'll um.we'll set up your presents so they're all nice for you to open when you come back," said the girls.
* * * * *
Chloe insisted on walking down to the Pediatric Hematology/Oncology Clinic and Treatment Room by herself, refusing the nurse's offer of a wheelchair. For Pete's sake, she had thought, I have leukemia, but I can walk. I'm hardly an invalid. She trudged along the corridor, following Dr. Murphy and the nurses who would assist in the procedure.
Brady, for his part, knew nothing of what he was getting himself into. Having arrived at the hospital directly from work (Actually, he'd snuck out early. When your dad's the boss..), he'd certainly been thrown feet-first into the situation. As he walked alongside Chloe, his arm around her shoulders and unsure of what to say, Brady envisioned himself as preparing to go into battle, battling for the life of this girl he..what? This girl he loved? No, too strong. Liked? Too. "high school." Was friends with? Well, yeah, but it was more than that. Cared about? That was good. This girl he cared about. He was prepared to battle for the life of this girl he cared about. Belle had been giving him a lot of crap lately about his feelings for Chloe. He'd have to figure out how to get her to stop. His macho battle thoughts were interrupted when they turned a corner and Dr. Murphy opened the door to a room that appeared to be a scaled-down version of an operating room.
A nurse directed Chloe to lie down on the table, on her side. Dr. Murphy went into the adjoining room to wash his hands and apply gloves, as the nurse began prepping Chloe's back for the procedure. Brady took up residence on a short black stool facing Chloe, and like the warrior preparing for battle, rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie. Normally, Chloe, who was despite her best efforts finding herself more and more attracted to Brady, would have enjoyed watching this. All boys looked sexy with their shirt sleeves rolled up, and Brady was by no means an exception to this rule. Today, however, she was too tense and scared of what lay ahead - not just with the spinal tap, but with the rest of her life, however long that might be. The instant the nurse touched Chloe's back with a betadine swab Chloe inhaled sharply and reached out her hand. Brady slid closer to her and took her hand, inviting her to squeeze as hard as she needed to. With his other hand he gently stroked her hair and face as he smiled that adorable smile - the one whose meaning Chloe never could quite decipher.
* * * * *
As Chief-of-Staff of University Hospital, Dr. Craig Wesley had a lot of work to do, preventing him from spending as much time with the hospitalized and undoubtedly terrified Chloe as he'd like. However, he had no intention of allowing his only daughter to endure the wretchedness of a spinal tap all by herself.
While Chloe was not technically Craig's daughter - she was the product of a relationship between Nancy and another man while she and Craig had been "on a break" in college, a daughter Nancy had given up for adoption but eagerly welcomed back when her adoptive parents had been killed in a car wreck - she was the only child he could lay even the slightest bit of claim to, and he couldn't have loved her more if she had been his own. In fact, Dr. Wesley occasionally wondered who was doing the better job of parenting Chloe - him, or Nancy, the actual parent. But all that was a moot point now. The last few weeks had involved little argument in the Wesley household. Plenty of tears, but few arguments.
Craig knew that Colin Murphy, the oncologist he had personally assigned to Chloe's case, had restricted visits from friends, and while he was usually very good at keeping his conflicts-of-interest to a minimum, Craig was strongly considering intervening in this situation. He had created a proposal for Dr. Murphy, one he was sure would be agreeable to all involved. Together, the three of them could draw up a "permanent visitation list" consisting of 2 or 3 people who could have access to Chloe virtually all the time - dependent, of course, on the hospital's visiting hours and the state of Chloe's highly fragile immune system. When doctors determined that Chloe was up to more visitors, people other than those on the list would be admitted. Craig thought this was a brilliant idea, and knew that, if necessary, he could "pull rank" on Colin Murphy and bring the plan to fruition.
As Craig stepped off the elevator and headed for Ward 52, home of the Pediatric Hematology and Oncology Clinic, the good doctor knew just who he wanted at the top of that list, and his name was Brady Black.
* * * * *
Dr. Murphy had just begun explaining the details of the procedure to Chloe when he was interrupted by the opening door and the sound of Craig's voice.
"Sorry I'm late. Chloe sweetie --," he stopped rather abruptly at the sight of Brady Black sitting next to the table, gently holding Chloe's hand.
"Dr. Wesley. What a pleasant surprise. I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten," Colin remarked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
To everyone in the room, Craig pleasantly responded, "Sorry to keep you waiting. I got tied up on the phone downstairs and couldn't get away." As polite as his tone was, the look Dr. Wesley shot his subordinate said, very clearly, "You arrogant bastard. Don't you ever question my devotion to my daughter or her treatment again."
Brady was just about to offer to leave, or at least stand up so that Dr. Wesley could have the stool, but something in Chloe's eyes told him to stay put. Craig stuck his head outside the door, and pulled in a stool very similar to Brady's from out in the hallway. He positioned himself at Chloe's head, a convenient location not only for talking to Chloe, but for watching the procedure going on at her spine.
Colin recapped the generals of the spinal tap, and Craig promised to talk Chloe through the entire thing - swearing never to let them do anything without first telling her what they were going to do. The nurse told Chloe to get comfortable, because in a moment she would be asked to remain still but relaxed for the rest of the procedure. At this, she reached out her free hand to Brady, who took it in his, lacing his fingers through her own, and bringing the knot of their hands to his lips for a quick kiss.
"Okay, Chloe. Are you ready? Here we go," said Craig.
Brady watched her body visibly tense at the prospect. "You're going to do fine, Chloe. You're going to do just fine. Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, okay?" She didn't respond. She just looked at him, her gorgeous eyes looking as scared as a kidnapped child, silently pleading with him not to let them do this to her. He couldn't do that though; it killed him to admit it, but not even he could rescue her from this disease and the repercussions it brought. Knowing that his "I wish I could" gaze would do Chloe no good, Brady gave her hand a squeeze and looked across to Craig, hoping to find some support that he was doing the right thing. The look in Craig's eyes was one of sympathy, understanding, and gratefulness.
"Alright Chloe," said Colin, "On 3 you're going to feel a stick. Here we go.1,2,3, stick." Chloe let out a small cry as her body stiffened in pain. She squeezed Brady's hands as though hanging on for dear life.
"Chloe honey, you're doing great," said Craig.
"You sure are," echoed Dr. Murphy, and the nurses murmured their agreement.
Chloe's pain increased as she could feel the needle being slid deeper into her back. She closed her eyes as a teardrop squeezed out of each one, and she tightened her grip on Brady, who leaned over and kissed her temple, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as well. He hated seeing her in such pain.
It seemed like an eternity until Craig said, "Okay Chloe, he's in the spinal canal. We're getting close now." And then, "Chloe, Dr. Murphy's going to pull the needle out now. You need to lie very, very, very still." Chloe could feel the needle being pulled out, but it hurt almost as much as it did going in.
When the needle at last slid out and the nurse began applying pressure over the wound to stop the bleeding, Craig said softly, "There you go. It's all over honey. Good job."
Dr. Murphy slid away from the table and remarked, "Congratulations, Chloe, you did great."
Chloe, not entirely sure it was safe to let her guard down yet, slowly opened her eyes and released her death grip on Brady. He smiled at her, but his eyes were apologetic, seeming to say "I'm sorry honey, I'm sorry I couldn't stop it." She sat up slowly and looked at Brady, who reached out to her and wiped her tears away with his thumbs, then folded her into a tight hug. "Good job, honey. You were great. It's all over now, I promise," he whispered. God, he wished he could protect her from all this pain. He wished he could hold her like this forever.
Chloe sniffled a bit, blinked back a few remaining tears, and pushed her hair behind her ears, attempting to regain her composure. She could have stayed in Brady's arms forever, but it was time for her to go back to her room. Colin headed for his office, but Craig walked back to the Pediatric Ward with Brady and Chloe.
When they got to her room, Chloe opened her door and stood in disbelief. Was this her room? It looked more like her room at home than a hospital room. Belle and Mimi stood in the corner grinning at Chloe.
"You guys! Did you do all this?" Chloe asked.
"Do you like it?" the girls asked in return.
"I love it!" said Chloe, trying to take it all in. The unforgiving hospital blanket had been replaced by her very own bedspread, and there were curtains on the windows. A throw rug lay on the floor next to the bed and there were stuffed animals everywhere. Pictures and posters from her walls at home now hung on the walls of the hospital room. Phillip's flowers had been rearranged to create a more home-like atmosphere, and sitting on the bedside table was a small desk lamp. On the moveable tray table where her meals were usually left, Chloe found a laptop computer. She looked at Brady.
"Turn it on."
She did, and found herself instantly connected to the internet.
"It's a wireless modem - top-speed connection. When you wish you were on the quickest route out of here, you have a superhighway at your fingertips."
"Thank you, Brady," said Chloe, still in awe of all that her friends had done for her.
"Chloe," said Mimi, "Go in the bathroom."
She did, and found the countertop neatly arranged with all of her cosmetics and toiletries, and pretty blue towels hanging from the towel bar. In the drawers of the bedside table Belle led her to, Chloe found - could it be? - real clothes!! Several pairs of jeans and her favorite form-fitting tops, socks, and new Victoria's Secret underwear. She held up a pair.
"Brady, did you pick these out?" she asked teasingly. "That's so sweet of you."
Craig stood in the doorway trying to control his impending laughter, as Brady turned bright red. "Actually, women's underwear is hardly my forte. I believe Belle was responsible for that purchase."
"Aah. I see," she said, grinning, and congratulating herself on her ability to make him squirm.
"Chloe, look in the bottom drawer," Belle requested.
Chloe did, and found several pairs of lovely pajamas - everything from sexy nightgowns ("To impress those hot med students," Belle said.) to silk pants and button down tops to boxer shorts and matching t-shirts.
"Belle.all of you, this is wonderful. Thank you so much. You guys are incredible. Craig, did you know about this?"
Craig's only response was a grin, and Chloe took that to mean yes.
Chloe began to hug Belle and Mimi. "I hate throwing you guys out, since it took so much effort to get you in here.but that spinal tap really did a number on me. I really need to just sleep for a while, I think."
"Of course," they answered. "Feel better, get some sleep, we love you!" the girls called on their way out the door. "Brady, we'll wait for you at the elevator."
Craig stood in the doorway as Brady reached down to hug Chloe goodbye.
"Thanks for coming with me and holding my hand," she said.
Brady's only response was to tighten his grip around her waist. "You call me if you need absolutely anything, you hear? I'll be back to visit soon." Planting a kiss on top of her head, he turned and walked out of the room.
Chloe walked slowly over to bed, and Craig followed to tuck her in. "I'm glad you were there today, Craig."
"Me too, sweetheart. You get some rest. I'll check up on you later."
Chloe relaxed against the softness of her own pillows and pillowcases her friends had brought, and snuggled under her warm comforter. She quickly drifted off to sleep, content, if only for the moment.
* * * * *
"So how did the spinal tap go, Brady?" asked Belle, as the trio stood waiting for the elevator.
Brady's demeanor changed, and his face grew soft and concerned. The girls thought they saw the sparkle of a teardrop buried deep within his eyes. "Oh God, Belle, it was awful. No one should have to go through that. It killed me just to have to watch it happen to Chloe."
"Brady," Belle said softly, "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
"Huh?" Brady answered, shaken from his emotional trance by Belle's words. "In love with who?"
Belle let out a loud, frustrated sigh and rolled her eyes. Honestly, he could be so dense sometimes.
"Uh, Chloe," responded Mimi, her tone of voice implying that she, too, was tired of pointing out the obvious to her best friend's brother.
"No. I am not in love with Chloe. And thanks for your concern, but even if I was, I wouldn't need your help knowing what to do with it. I can handle my own love life."
"Right, Brady," said Belle, clearly not believing him.
"Everyone can see it," offered Mimi, "and I'd bet 10-to-1 Chloe feels the same way. She'd be crazy not to. I mean, really, you're so hot, and --"
"Thanks for the ego boost, Mimi," interrupted Brady, "but like I already said, I am not in love with Chloe and we are just friends! Now skedaddle!"
"Brady, we can't skedaddle," Belle pointed out. "You're giving us a ride home, remember?"
"Not if you don't be quiet. You and your little matchmaking business are bothering me."
"Sheesh," mumbled Mimi, as Belle gave her brother a look that said, "Chill out!" But the girls stopped talking, and at that moment the elevator arrived. The three climbed aboard silently. The door closed, and the extreme quiet of the group allowed them to hear the elevator music without impediment.
I can't fight this feeling any longer And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow What started out as friendship has grown stronger I only wish I had the strength to let it show
Mimi and Belle grinned at each other as Brady closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall of the elevator.
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever I said there is no reason for my fear Cause I so feel so secure when we're together You give my life direction, you make everything so clear
And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight You're a candle in the window On a cold and dark winter's night And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might
And I can't fight this feeling anymore I've forgotten what I started fightin for It's time to bring this ship into the shore And throw away the oars forever
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore I've forgotten what I've started fighting for And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore
Eyes still closed, Brady sank into the wall and slid all the way down until he was sitting on the floor of the elevator. Head in hands, he sat there silently through the remainder of the ride down, stopping at 2 other floors to let others on and off. When the elevator reached the first floor, Belle and Mimi started to get off, and they called to Brady,
"Brady, you coming?...Brady come on, let's go.Hello, Brady?"
Belle, mortified that there were all these people standing around waiting to get on the elevator that her brother refused to get off of, finally walked back onto the elevator, squatted in front of him, and took his head in her hands.
"Brady, come on. We have to go now." Her voice softened. "Do you want to go back up and see her? Mimi and I can walk home if you do."
Wordlessly, Brady stood up and allowed Belle to lead him off the elevator. As they walked towards the parking garage, he remained silent, thoughts running through his mind. He loved her. Of course he did. He'd never loved anyone as much as her. And now she was slowly being taken away from her. What was he supposed to do? He'd already lost the most important woman in his life to cancer, he couldn't handle losing the newest person to fill that title. And yet, what was he supposed to say? Hi Chloe, I hope you're feeling better, by the way, I'm in love with you? Odds were, she wasn't in love with him. Hell, she spent the entire last year unable to force herself to finally cut the ties from Uncle Phil. Then again, the look in her eyes during that god-awful spinal tap this afternoon clearly indicated that he was playing the role of her knight in shining armor. Well, no matter. He would leave it alone for now, she was using enough of her strength as it was, the last thing she needed was her best friend confessing his undying love for her. He drove home in a trance, dropping the unusually silent girls off at the penthouse before returning to his loft.
Walking in, Brady dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and flopped down on the couch. What was he going to do? Having acknowledged his feelings for Chloe made them more real. He'd been denying the obvious to himself for so long now, that telling himself he loved Chloe seemed like a major revelation, although it had been simmering under the surface for quite some time. He flipped on the stereo, looking for music he didn't usually listen to. Country. That would work. Normally he wasn't much for steel guitars and twangy voices, but today they seemed to resonate deeply within him. He drifted to sleep, listening to Lee Ann Womack's "I Hope You Dance." He awoke several hours later to the cheery sound of Lila McCann singing "Is It Just Me?"
Lately, I've been stumbling over my words When I talk to you I get nervous And I rehearse How to say hello
When you call me on the phone And when you're over at my house Watching TV, sitting on the couch Just hangin out
I catch you starin at me with that silly grin Are we just friends Or is there something going on Can you feel it too?
Or is it just me? Feeling this way? Am I the only one that senses Something going on behind the scenes
Or is it just you Whoever you are I can't resist and you can't help it Baby are you falling in love?
Or is it just me?
Maybe, you're just a harmless flirt And it's safe to rest assured That it's absurd the way my brain Will overanalyze And when my head begins to rush Everytime I think of us Hooking up I get the feeling that this feeling might be real
So what's the deal? Is there something going on? Can you feel it too?
Or is it just me? Feeling this way? Am I the only one that senses Something going on behind the scenes
Or is it just you Whoever you are I can't resist and you can't help it Baby, are you falling in love?
Or is it just me?... Who's pulse is pounding Whenever you're near, Is it hot in here?
Or is it just me?
Or is it just you Whoever you are I can't resist and you can't help it Baby, are you falling in love?
Or is it just me?
Damn. He couldn't get away from it. He had to see her, talk to her, hold her hand, make sure she was okay. Not that he would tell her how he felt, but he needed to be near her. Clicking the stereo off, Brady grabbed his keys and flew out the door.
* * * * * Chloe awoke with a start to the sound of a nurse coming in the room. She administered Chloe another dose of anti-nausea medication, adjusted the flow of the IV drip, and left the room. For some reason, this brought Chloe to tears. All at once, all of the stress and worry and anxiety and sadness and anger and fear she had been feeling for the past several weeks came crashing to the surface, and she sat in bed sobbing, unable to control the tears she had been holding back for so long.
Suddenly, she felt strong, safe arms wrapped around her, and a familiar voice say,
"Shh, shh.it's okay now, I'm here. Chloe, shh, honey, what's wrong? What happened?"
Allowing herself to be held, Chloe leaned up against the person's chest, struggling to rein in her hiccupping sobs. She inhaled Brady's fresh, clean, and overwhelmingly sexy scent, driving her right back to her tears, the torment he'd been causing her heart lately being one of things she was crying about.
Taking another shot at figuring out what was going on, Brady asked,
"Sweetheart, Chloe, honey, calm down, tell me what happened. What's wrong?" Still he got no answer, and so wordlessly he held her. He climbed atop the bed and pulled the distraught girl into his lap. For 10, 15, 20? minutes - Brady wasn't sure how long he sat there with her - Chloe buried herself in his chest, her arms holding onto him for dear life, her tears soaking his shirt.
* * * * *
Brady would never know how much he did for Chloe that night. Although a person wouldn't have known by the continuing intensity of her tears, his presence made everything easier for Chloe. In fact, perhaps his presence allowed her to continue crying, to finally give up the illusion of control and release the flood of emotions she so desperately craved an outlet for. Brady was the only person she had ever known to whom she could bare her soul, and here he was, sitting on her bed, holding her, there for her when she needed him the most. He was the best friend she had ever had, and she was madly in love with him. She knew that now.
However, it only made things worse, because she couldn't have him. He wasn't hers to claim. His heart belonged to, well, she wasn't sure who it belonged to, but it certainly wasn't her. She was just a kid, and his little sister's best friend at that. Eventually, Chloe's wracking sobs began to subside, as she literally wore herself out from crying. She quieted, and Brady began to stroke her hair and talk softly to her.
"Chloe, oh Chloe honey. Are you ready to talk, baby? Can you tell me what happened? What's got you so upset, sweetheart?"
Chloe sat up, pulling herself away from his chest, but refusing to leave the safety of his embrace. She looked into his eyes, nodding slowly, as if unsure of her answer. He caught her remaining tears with his thumbs, smoothed her hair, ready for her to tell him anything. She leaned against his chest; her words came in fragments, phrases, interrupted by the gasps for air of a person recovering from hysterics.
".tired.of being.sick.not fair.miss friends.want.want my mom.scared.don't want.don't want to die.no one.understands.love you.hair.falling.out.never go to.to..Jul- Jul- Julliard.I'm a.a burden.don't want any of this.just.need to cry.," she choked out, before bursting into tears again.
"Oh baby," was all Brady could say as he tightened his arms around her.
He hadn't known she had been covering so much up, and he was kicking himself for it now. How was he supposed to protect her, take care of her, if he couldn't even tell when she was upset?
And then Brady heard a beautiful voice not instantly recognizable, but hauntingly familiar nonetheless, as if it were known only to the recesses of his soul. "Brady, my love, my son. You're here now, that's what matters. She needs you. Give her what she needs. Give her yourself. I love you, and I believe in you. I always have, but it's time for you to share that love. Love her." And the room returned to silence.
Not letting go of Chloe for a moment, Brady shifted both their bodies so that they lay side-by-side on the bed. Crying had drained Chloe of her entire energy reserve, and she was quickly nearing sleep. As she snuggled in next to him, the fit of her body perfect against his, and occasional hiccupping sobs slowly working themselves from her body, Brady gently stroked her face and kissed the top of her head.
"My diva," he murmured. "My baby diva. I love you so much, sweetheart. Yes, my little drama queen, I love you." With that, he took her hand, lacing his fingers through her, and slowly drifted to sleep holding in his arms the girl of his dreams.
* * * * *
Chloe awakened in the middle night, startled, to say the least. Her clock said 3:17. Still unaccustomed to the dark surroundings of the hospital room, she was more interested in who was sharing her bed. As her eyes adjusted, she looked beside herself and saw that she was being held tightly in Brady's safe, strong arms. Alarmed at first, Chloe soon remembered the tears of the previous hours. She remembered him entering the room unnoticed, and without a word coming to sit by her and hold her as she cried. She thought vaguely that she might have told him she loved him, and she thought he might have returned the sentiment at some point, but her mind, still fuzzy from all the emotion, just could not put together clear memories. No matter. She was safe right now, content in the arms of the boy of her dreams.
Her slight movements had woken Brady, who now looked at her smiling as he traced the curvature of her face.
"Morning, Sunshine."
"I didn't mean to wake you up," she whispered. He smiled.
"Diva? Last night, did you say you love me?"
Well that certainly caught her off-guard. She hadn't expected him to start a conversation like that. This opening up, tearing down walls, admitting her feelings terrified her. But she felt safe with him, and she couldn't lie to him. He knew her too well, he'd see right through her. She looked down at the bed.
"Mm-hm," she murmured, supplementing her barely-audible affirmation with a slight nod of her head.
"Did you mean it?"
"Mm-hm," she answered, still shy, but honest, as always, with her best friend.
"Chloe," he gently lifted her chin with his index finger. "Do you love me?"
Well, it was now or never. She'd come this far already, but God, she was scared. And suddenly, the scared little girl, who'd never had cause to tell anyone in her life that she loved them, found the courage to tell the one person she had loved since what felt like the dawn of time how she felt.
"Yes, Brady. I love you." Terrified of his rejection, but knowing in her heart she wouldn't find it, she allowed her eyes to stay locked with his.
He reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and allowed his hungry lips to find hers. Resisting the urge to pin her to the bed and kiss her senseless, his kisses stayed shallow and gentle one, two, three times, before he pulled away to gauge her reaction. She smiled that hint of a smile he loved so much and leaned in to touch his shoulder.
"Brady, I,"
"Shhh.no words." He pulled her to him and resumed the kiss he'd been waiting so long to give. Never in his life had Brady kissed a girl so gently and yet so passionately. Resting his hands in her hair, Brady teased her bottom lip, as his tongue sought entrance to her mouth. New to his kisses, she rejected the offer initially, but soon caught on to his rhythm, allowing him to explore her mouth and tell her, wordlessly, how much he cared. Her hands found the nape of his neck, and she gently ran her fingers through the baby-soft hair there.
Gradually, Brady broke off the kiss, reluctantly separating himself from the only lips he ever wanted to kiss again.
"Chloe, I,"
"I thought you said 'no words'," she interrupted, grinning from ear to ear.
"I did," said Brady. He loved the way she challenged him, holding him responsible for everything he said and did.
"But we need to talk. One, not that I don't like kissing you, but if I don't stop kissing you right now, we're both going to regret it later. Two, I don't think I told you this yet: Chloe Lane, I love you. I want you to be my diva, my drama queen. Forever."
"I want that too," Chloe said, as she reached up to pull his lips to hers again. She kissed him lightly, gently, sweetly, and then snuggled deep into his arms to finish the night of sleep.
Tightening his embrace around her, Brady laid his head on the pillow and grinned.
* * * * *
The sun shone through the slats of the hospital blinds, gently waking Chloe and Brady. As each recognized the other was awake, they grinned at each other, and began their morning with a quick kiss. A Saturday morning, the usual 5:30 visitation by perpetually prodding physicians who would no doubt freak out at seeing Brady in bed with Chloe was not scheduled to take place. Shifting positions, but remaining comfortable in each other's arms, Brady picked up the TV remote from the bedside table and clicked the television on just in time to hear the beginning of an old rerun of "Family Ties."
I bet we've been together for a million years And I bet we'll be together for a million more Oh it's like I started breathing on the night we kissed And I can't remember what I ever did before
What would we do, baby, without us? What would we do, baby, without us? And there ain't no nothing we can't love each other through What would we do, baby, without us? Sha na na na
Brady looked at Chloe and smiled contentedly. She relaxed in his embrace as they contemplated life and love. You can't control life, any aspect of it. Hell, you can't even control who you love - they'd certainly tried, and look where that had gotten them. Brady couldn't promise to save her. He couldn't cure her disease, or undo the diagnosis. He couldn't promise things like that. But he could promise to love her as long as he lived. And that was okay. Chloe didn't want him to promise those temporal things. She didn't want promises he couldn't keep. She wanted his love, and she had that. For a girl whom life had repeatedly betrayed, who had spent 17 years looking for someone to love her, Chloe had all she needed, and all she could ask of the world. For a boy who couldn't predict what the future might hold, and who had lost the first woman he had ever loved, Brady had all he needed, and all he could ask of the world. As they lay contentedly in each others arms, neither Brady nor Chloe knew what to expect of the future. They would face this disease together, Chloe leaning on the strength Brady could provide for her. In doing so, they would face much that they didn't know how to handle. They loved each other, though, and for now, that was more than enough.
Credits: REO Speedwagon's "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore"
Lila McCann's "Is It Just Me?"
Family Ties' "What Would We Do"
Disclaimer: Days of Our Lives, NBC, and Corday Productions are the sole owners of these characters. I don't own any of them, obviously, because if I did, I would own Brady Victor Black in more ways than one. Please don't sue me. ( Thanks.
"I'm tired of not being able to have any visitors. I'm lonely, and it's boring with no one to talk to," she said.
"Chloe," Dr. Murphy answered, "it's better if you don't have visitors. You need to rest, and keep your strength up. I understand you're lonely and bored, and we'll see what we can do about that, but for the time being, I'd really like to limit your visitors."
For crying out loud, Chloe thought, what did they think she was going to do? Organize a pickup game of basketball? How much strength did it take to lie in bed and have a conversation? She knew, however, that this was not a good time to protest Dr. Murphy's answer. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to be swayed right here in front of all these student types he had to impress. She made a mental note to do something about the situation, and as the doctors murmured a few final comments to each other and walked out the door, she rolled over and went back to sleep.
At least she tried to. More and more, Chloe found herself distracted by her own thoughts, finding it hard for her to fall asleep. Sure, she put on a brave face for everyone - the doctors, her parents, her friends - and she intended to continue, but sometimes it just got to be too much. Truth be told, she was scared out of her mind. Cursing herself for reading those damn Lurlene McDaniel books where everyone died, Chloe wanted desperately to be dependent on someone or something. She wanted Nancy or Craig to spend the night, curl up in the reclining chair on the other side of the room and stay with her. But neither of them had offered, and she wasn't going to ask. No sense in further burdening them, her disease had done enough of that already. She was scared that she would die - or that she wouldn't, but would ruin her chances of ever making her living as a singer. Without an outlet for her music, there was no point in living. Mostly she wanted to be held - rocked, even - and just cry. But she wouldn't let herself do that. Nancy was so stressed out already that Chloe couldn't let her mother see how absolutely freaked out she was. No, she needed to deal with this on her own, and that's exactly what Chloe intended to do. With a deep breath, and a renewed resolve to be a strong, independent woman of the 21st century, Chloe Lane rearranged her pillows and drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
She awoke several hours later, the incessant knock on the door beginning to aggravate her.
"Come in," she mumbled. She rubbed her eyes tiredly before looking towards the door. Chloe was surprised to see Dr. Marlena Evans walk into the room. As always, her best friend's mother was well-dressed, put together, and wearing that kind-but-not-condescending smile.
"Good morning, Chloe," said Marlena, "how are you feeling?"
"I'm, um.okay.I think.." Chloe attempted to lift the fog from her brain and focus on Dr. Evans. She blinked her eyes a few times and sat up, the motion inducing another wave of nausea to wash over her. "Ugh.," she murmured, and closed her eyes.
"Chloe, I came by to visit with you for a while, bring some messages from your friends and such. I didn't mean to wake you up."
"No, no, it's okay," Chloe replied, yawning as she picked up her watch from the bedside table. Eleven fifteen. Eleven fifteen? How did it get to be so late?
"Why don't I come back in a little while? A half-hour or so? That'll give you some time to wake up and collect yourself. We can chat over lunch."
"Okay," Chloe sleepily murmured, trying to comprehend this seemingly complex statement. She blinked her eyes again, watched Marlena leave the room, and wondered how a person lying half-naked and completely sick in a hospital bed goes about collecting herself.
She glanced over and saw the breakfast tray sitting on the table across the room, cold by now, she was sure. Not that it was any good, or even if it was, that she would be able to keep it down. Returning her gaze to the bedside table, Chloe saw two slips of paper which turned out to be notes from each of her parents. Apparently both had dropped by earlier in the morning while she was still sleeping. She was disappointed that she had missed them, but knew that Craig would check in on her several times during the day, and Nancy would come by after she got done with the radio show. Speaking of which, what was Nancy's latest topic for that show? Chloe never knew (nor cared, up until now) what Nancy did or said on that excuse for attention she had stolen right out from under Marlena. Suddenly, however, it occurred to Chloe that Nancy might very well be discussing the implications of having a seriously ill child and how it changes one's life. Lord, she would be mortified.
"God," she prayed, "please don't let her talk about me or my being sick. PLEASE!" With that, Chloe attempted once again to sit up, a little more slowly this time. She pulled a hand mirror out of the drawer in the bedside table and looked at herself. Geez, she was pale. She reached deeper into the drawer and found the makeup Belle and Mimi had brought her, the last time they'd actually been allowed in the room. Chloe skillfully applied the makeup, and then picked up her hairbrush. With the first stroke of the brush, Chloe knew. It was starting. The thing every doctor had warned her of was indeed happening. She was losing her hair. Not in big clumps, like some people on chemotherapy. Each gradual stroke of the brush brought more and more hair out with it. She knew from what she had been told, that once it started, it would likely all be gone within a week or two. Great.
Chloe was just finishing propping up some of the extra pillows she'd demanded from the nurses when Dr. Evans came back. The two of them struck up a conversation, and Chloe could tell almost immediately that her parents had put Marlena up to this. Dr. Evans was obviously trying to find out how Chloe was "dealing with all of this." Odd, thought Chloe. It's not like Belle's mom to be so transparent.
As she tuned back in to what the psychiatrist was saying, Chloe's brain registered something about counseling. "Oh no, no, that's really not necessary," Chloe said, trying to be polite and conveniently pushing her early-morning depression to the back of her mind. She'd handled plenty of crap in her life just fine, thank you, and darned if she wouldn't handle this too.
"Alright, Chloe. I understand your reluctance to get involved with a counselor," Marlena was saying. "You know I'm always here, though. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."
And then it clicked.
"Actually," Chloe interrupted, "there is something. Can you find a way to get me some visitors? I think that, mentally, it would do me a world of good to see some friends," she said, and then described her conversation with Dr. Murphy and his refusal to allow her visitors.
"Chloe, I think you're right. I'll see what I can do," Dr. Evans answered, and with that, stood up to leave. "Belle, Brady, Shawn, and Mimi all send their love and hugs. They're dying to see you, too. In fact, the last time Belle visited, she noticed you looked sort of pale, so she sent this along." Marlena reached into her purse and pulled out a brand-new tube of lipstick. "Belle saw this the other day, and thought it would be the perfect shade for you. I'll let her know you miss her, and tell her you're looking better and in good spirits."
She walked toward the door as Chloe said, "Thank you Dr. Evans...thanks for everything."
As the door clicked shut, a lone tear trickled down Chloe's cheek. Stop it, she thought! No crying allowed; no pity parties! With a corner of the stiff hospital blanket she wiped away the tear, rolled over, and went to sleep.
* * * * *
"Knock, knock!" came the oddly familiar voice, permeating Chloe's dream state, an event that disappointed the patient, who happened to be dreaming about.that.very same voice?!?!
"Huh?" she mumbled, attempting to separate fact from fiction as she struggled to open her eyes. "Brady?" she questioned aloud.
"It's me," the voice replied. "I brought Belle and Mimi along, too."
Just then Chloe's vision cleared, and she saw that indeed, Brady, Belle, and Mimi were standing in her room, each holding several large bags of what appeared to be gifts.
As they each in turn came over to hug and kiss the patient, Chloe's mind wandered to the bags. Just what I need, she thought, more presents. When you were in the hospital, everyone you knew felt obligated to send a gift. That was all well and good; however some of the gifts had quickly worn out their usefulness - if they had ever been useful to begin with. For instance, what did Great-Aunt Melanie think Chloe was going to do with an engraved pewter picture frame? And the flowers. Good grief, more flowers came every day, usually from Phillip. Along with lots of flowers, Phillip had sent plenty of gifts, most of which were carefully thought out. Lord knew the boy had good intentions, but since most of the presents appeared to be exhibits in his argument for why the two of them still belonged together, they frequently frustrated her more than cheering her up. Chloe hoped these shopping bags full of presents weren't going to be more things she had to pretend to appreciate, things Nancy would undoubtedly make her write thank-you notes for. Just then Brady walked up to her bed and whispered, "hey Diva," in that gorgeous voice of his, pushed a few strands of hair off her shoulder and away from her face, and kissed the top of her head. He'd been doing this a lot more frequently, and it was something Chloe adored, although she'd never told him so, and likely never would.
"How did you guys get in here?" Chloe asked.
Brady grinned. "Mom pulled some strings," he said.
"Yeah, she thought it would lift your spirits a little if you could see some of your friends," Belle finished.
"And boy are we glad we got in," said Mimi, practically shouting. "We have a ton of work to do! -- Ow!"
Belle not-too-subtly kicked Mimi, as Chloe asked, "Work? What kind of work do you have to do?"
"Uh, nothing," replied Mimi, attempting to recover.
"Right.," said Chloe. "Might this have something to do with all those presents you brought me?"
"It might...," Mimi answered evasively. Then giving in, "Okay, it does."
"So let me see them," said Chloe, sounding mildly exasperated.
"Well.you can't see them.at least not yet," said Mimi.
"What? Mimi, what is the point of bringing me presents that I am not allowed to open?"
"You'll get to open them.sort of.later," Belle jumped in. This conversation was going nowhere fast, and she needed to save it. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and in walked Dr. Murphy.
"Sorry kids," he said. "I know I authorized this visit, but I have to break up the party now."
"Aaaw.," whined the girls. "We just got here."
"I know," replied the doctor, "but I have to take Chloe to have a spinal tap done."
"A what?" asked Chloe.
"Well, basically what this procedure involves is, well, we're going to slide a very thin needle into your spinal canal and draw out some of the fluid to test it."
"Oh no you don't!" cried Chloe. "I'm not doing that alone! Brady's coming with me!"
"Uh.," Brady stammered, as Dr. Murphy calmly replied,
"Chloe, it's just not -"
"Stop! I said Brady's coming! End of discussion."
Dr. Murphy sighed. "Alright," he said, and looked at Brady, "but you'll have to stay where we tell you to."
"Of course," he answered, glad to be able to do something to help Chloe.
Belle and Mimi exchanged a clear "I told you so" look that went unnoticed by no one in the room.
"Chloe, we'll just stay here in your room and wait for you to come back. We'll um.we'll set up your presents so they're all nice for you to open when you come back," said the girls.
* * * * *
Chloe insisted on walking down to the Pediatric Hematology/Oncology Clinic and Treatment Room by herself, refusing the nurse's offer of a wheelchair. For Pete's sake, she had thought, I have leukemia, but I can walk. I'm hardly an invalid. She trudged along the corridor, following Dr. Murphy and the nurses who would assist in the procedure.
Brady, for his part, knew nothing of what he was getting himself into. Having arrived at the hospital directly from work (Actually, he'd snuck out early. When your dad's the boss..), he'd certainly been thrown feet-first into the situation. As he walked alongside Chloe, his arm around her shoulders and unsure of what to say, Brady envisioned himself as preparing to go into battle, battling for the life of this girl he..what? This girl he loved? No, too strong. Liked? Too. "high school." Was friends with? Well, yeah, but it was more than that. Cared about? That was good. This girl he cared about. He was prepared to battle for the life of this girl he cared about. Belle had been giving him a lot of crap lately about his feelings for Chloe. He'd have to figure out how to get her to stop. His macho battle thoughts were interrupted when they turned a corner and Dr. Murphy opened the door to a room that appeared to be a scaled-down version of an operating room.
A nurse directed Chloe to lie down on the table, on her side. Dr. Murphy went into the adjoining room to wash his hands and apply gloves, as the nurse began prepping Chloe's back for the procedure. Brady took up residence on a short black stool facing Chloe, and like the warrior preparing for battle, rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie. Normally, Chloe, who was despite her best efforts finding herself more and more attracted to Brady, would have enjoyed watching this. All boys looked sexy with their shirt sleeves rolled up, and Brady was by no means an exception to this rule. Today, however, she was too tense and scared of what lay ahead - not just with the spinal tap, but with the rest of her life, however long that might be. The instant the nurse touched Chloe's back with a betadine swab Chloe inhaled sharply and reached out her hand. Brady slid closer to her and took her hand, inviting her to squeeze as hard as she needed to. With his other hand he gently stroked her hair and face as he smiled that adorable smile - the one whose meaning Chloe never could quite decipher.
* * * * *
As Chief-of-Staff of University Hospital, Dr. Craig Wesley had a lot of work to do, preventing him from spending as much time with the hospitalized and undoubtedly terrified Chloe as he'd like. However, he had no intention of allowing his only daughter to endure the wretchedness of a spinal tap all by herself.
While Chloe was not technically Craig's daughter - she was the product of a relationship between Nancy and another man while she and Craig had been "on a break" in college, a daughter Nancy had given up for adoption but eagerly welcomed back when her adoptive parents had been killed in a car wreck - she was the only child he could lay even the slightest bit of claim to, and he couldn't have loved her more if she had been his own. In fact, Dr. Wesley occasionally wondered who was doing the better job of parenting Chloe - him, or Nancy, the actual parent. But all that was a moot point now. The last few weeks had involved little argument in the Wesley household. Plenty of tears, but few arguments.
Craig knew that Colin Murphy, the oncologist he had personally assigned to Chloe's case, had restricted visits from friends, and while he was usually very good at keeping his conflicts-of-interest to a minimum, Craig was strongly considering intervening in this situation. He had created a proposal for Dr. Murphy, one he was sure would be agreeable to all involved. Together, the three of them could draw up a "permanent visitation list" consisting of 2 or 3 people who could have access to Chloe virtually all the time - dependent, of course, on the hospital's visiting hours and the state of Chloe's highly fragile immune system. When doctors determined that Chloe was up to more visitors, people other than those on the list would be admitted. Craig thought this was a brilliant idea, and knew that, if necessary, he could "pull rank" on Colin Murphy and bring the plan to fruition.
As Craig stepped off the elevator and headed for Ward 52, home of the Pediatric Hematology and Oncology Clinic, the good doctor knew just who he wanted at the top of that list, and his name was Brady Black.
* * * * *
Dr. Murphy had just begun explaining the details of the procedure to Chloe when he was interrupted by the opening door and the sound of Craig's voice.
"Sorry I'm late. Chloe sweetie --," he stopped rather abruptly at the sight of Brady Black sitting next to the table, gently holding Chloe's hand.
"Dr. Wesley. What a pleasant surprise. I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten," Colin remarked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
To everyone in the room, Craig pleasantly responded, "Sorry to keep you waiting. I got tied up on the phone downstairs and couldn't get away." As polite as his tone was, the look Dr. Wesley shot his subordinate said, very clearly, "You arrogant bastard. Don't you ever question my devotion to my daughter or her treatment again."
Brady was just about to offer to leave, or at least stand up so that Dr. Wesley could have the stool, but something in Chloe's eyes told him to stay put. Craig stuck his head outside the door, and pulled in a stool very similar to Brady's from out in the hallway. He positioned himself at Chloe's head, a convenient location not only for talking to Chloe, but for watching the procedure going on at her spine.
Colin recapped the generals of the spinal tap, and Craig promised to talk Chloe through the entire thing - swearing never to let them do anything without first telling her what they were going to do. The nurse told Chloe to get comfortable, because in a moment she would be asked to remain still but relaxed for the rest of the procedure. At this, she reached out her free hand to Brady, who took it in his, lacing his fingers through her own, and bringing the knot of their hands to his lips for a quick kiss.
"Okay, Chloe. Are you ready? Here we go," said Craig.
Brady watched her body visibly tense at the prospect. "You're going to do fine, Chloe. You're going to do just fine. Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, okay?" She didn't respond. She just looked at him, her gorgeous eyes looking as scared as a kidnapped child, silently pleading with him not to let them do this to her. He couldn't do that though; it killed him to admit it, but not even he could rescue her from this disease and the repercussions it brought. Knowing that his "I wish I could" gaze would do Chloe no good, Brady gave her hand a squeeze and looked across to Craig, hoping to find some support that he was doing the right thing. The look in Craig's eyes was one of sympathy, understanding, and gratefulness.
"Alright Chloe," said Colin, "On 3 you're going to feel a stick. Here we go.1,2,3, stick." Chloe let out a small cry as her body stiffened in pain. She squeezed Brady's hands as though hanging on for dear life.
"Chloe honey, you're doing great," said Craig.
"You sure are," echoed Dr. Murphy, and the nurses murmured their agreement.
Chloe's pain increased as she could feel the needle being slid deeper into her back. She closed her eyes as a teardrop squeezed out of each one, and she tightened her grip on Brady, who leaned over and kissed her temple, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as well. He hated seeing her in such pain.
It seemed like an eternity until Craig said, "Okay Chloe, he's in the spinal canal. We're getting close now." And then, "Chloe, Dr. Murphy's going to pull the needle out now. You need to lie very, very, very still." Chloe could feel the needle being pulled out, but it hurt almost as much as it did going in.
When the needle at last slid out and the nurse began applying pressure over the wound to stop the bleeding, Craig said softly, "There you go. It's all over honey. Good job."
Dr. Murphy slid away from the table and remarked, "Congratulations, Chloe, you did great."
Chloe, not entirely sure it was safe to let her guard down yet, slowly opened her eyes and released her death grip on Brady. He smiled at her, but his eyes were apologetic, seeming to say "I'm sorry honey, I'm sorry I couldn't stop it." She sat up slowly and looked at Brady, who reached out to her and wiped her tears away with his thumbs, then folded her into a tight hug. "Good job, honey. You were great. It's all over now, I promise," he whispered. God, he wished he could protect her from all this pain. He wished he could hold her like this forever.
Chloe sniffled a bit, blinked back a few remaining tears, and pushed her hair behind her ears, attempting to regain her composure. She could have stayed in Brady's arms forever, but it was time for her to go back to her room. Colin headed for his office, but Craig walked back to the Pediatric Ward with Brady and Chloe.
When they got to her room, Chloe opened her door and stood in disbelief. Was this her room? It looked more like her room at home than a hospital room. Belle and Mimi stood in the corner grinning at Chloe.
"You guys! Did you do all this?" Chloe asked.
"Do you like it?" the girls asked in return.
"I love it!" said Chloe, trying to take it all in. The unforgiving hospital blanket had been replaced by her very own bedspread, and there were curtains on the windows. A throw rug lay on the floor next to the bed and there were stuffed animals everywhere. Pictures and posters from her walls at home now hung on the walls of the hospital room. Phillip's flowers had been rearranged to create a more home-like atmosphere, and sitting on the bedside table was a small desk lamp. On the moveable tray table where her meals were usually left, Chloe found a laptop computer. She looked at Brady.
"Turn it on."
She did, and found herself instantly connected to the internet.
"It's a wireless modem - top-speed connection. When you wish you were on the quickest route out of here, you have a superhighway at your fingertips."
"Thank you, Brady," said Chloe, still in awe of all that her friends had done for her.
"Chloe," said Mimi, "Go in the bathroom."
She did, and found the countertop neatly arranged with all of her cosmetics and toiletries, and pretty blue towels hanging from the towel bar. In the drawers of the bedside table Belle led her to, Chloe found - could it be? - real clothes!! Several pairs of jeans and her favorite form-fitting tops, socks, and new Victoria's Secret underwear. She held up a pair.
"Brady, did you pick these out?" she asked teasingly. "That's so sweet of you."
Craig stood in the doorway trying to control his impending laughter, as Brady turned bright red. "Actually, women's underwear is hardly my forte. I believe Belle was responsible for that purchase."
"Aah. I see," she said, grinning, and congratulating herself on her ability to make him squirm.
"Chloe, look in the bottom drawer," Belle requested.
Chloe did, and found several pairs of lovely pajamas - everything from sexy nightgowns ("To impress those hot med students," Belle said.) to silk pants and button down tops to boxer shorts and matching t-shirts.
"Belle.all of you, this is wonderful. Thank you so much. You guys are incredible. Craig, did you know about this?"
Craig's only response was a grin, and Chloe took that to mean yes.
Chloe began to hug Belle and Mimi. "I hate throwing you guys out, since it took so much effort to get you in here.but that spinal tap really did a number on me. I really need to just sleep for a while, I think."
"Of course," they answered. "Feel better, get some sleep, we love you!" the girls called on their way out the door. "Brady, we'll wait for you at the elevator."
Craig stood in the doorway as Brady reached down to hug Chloe goodbye.
"Thanks for coming with me and holding my hand," she said.
Brady's only response was to tighten his grip around her waist. "You call me if you need absolutely anything, you hear? I'll be back to visit soon." Planting a kiss on top of her head, he turned and walked out of the room.
Chloe walked slowly over to bed, and Craig followed to tuck her in. "I'm glad you were there today, Craig."
"Me too, sweetheart. You get some rest. I'll check up on you later."
Chloe relaxed against the softness of her own pillows and pillowcases her friends had brought, and snuggled under her warm comforter. She quickly drifted off to sleep, content, if only for the moment.
* * * * *
"So how did the spinal tap go, Brady?" asked Belle, as the trio stood waiting for the elevator.
Brady's demeanor changed, and his face grew soft and concerned. The girls thought they saw the sparkle of a teardrop buried deep within his eyes. "Oh God, Belle, it was awful. No one should have to go through that. It killed me just to have to watch it happen to Chloe."
"Brady," Belle said softly, "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
"Huh?" Brady answered, shaken from his emotional trance by Belle's words. "In love with who?"
Belle let out a loud, frustrated sigh and rolled her eyes. Honestly, he could be so dense sometimes.
"Uh, Chloe," responded Mimi, her tone of voice implying that she, too, was tired of pointing out the obvious to her best friend's brother.
"No. I am not in love with Chloe. And thanks for your concern, but even if I was, I wouldn't need your help knowing what to do with it. I can handle my own love life."
"Right, Brady," said Belle, clearly not believing him.
"Everyone can see it," offered Mimi, "and I'd bet 10-to-1 Chloe feels the same way. She'd be crazy not to. I mean, really, you're so hot, and --"
"Thanks for the ego boost, Mimi," interrupted Brady, "but like I already said, I am not in love with Chloe and we are just friends! Now skedaddle!"
"Brady, we can't skedaddle," Belle pointed out. "You're giving us a ride home, remember?"
"Not if you don't be quiet. You and your little matchmaking business are bothering me."
"Sheesh," mumbled Mimi, as Belle gave her brother a look that said, "Chill out!" But the girls stopped talking, and at that moment the elevator arrived. The three climbed aboard silently. The door closed, and the extreme quiet of the group allowed them to hear the elevator music without impediment.
I can't fight this feeling any longer And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow What started out as friendship has grown stronger I only wish I had the strength to let it show
Mimi and Belle grinned at each other as Brady closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall of the elevator.
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever I said there is no reason for my fear Cause I so feel so secure when we're together You give my life direction, you make everything so clear
And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight You're a candle in the window On a cold and dark winter's night And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might
And I can't fight this feeling anymore I've forgotten what I started fightin for It's time to bring this ship into the shore And throw away the oars forever
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore I've forgotten what I've started fighting for And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore
Eyes still closed, Brady sank into the wall and slid all the way down until he was sitting on the floor of the elevator. Head in hands, he sat there silently through the remainder of the ride down, stopping at 2 other floors to let others on and off. When the elevator reached the first floor, Belle and Mimi started to get off, and they called to Brady,
"Brady, you coming?...Brady come on, let's go.Hello, Brady?"
Belle, mortified that there were all these people standing around waiting to get on the elevator that her brother refused to get off of, finally walked back onto the elevator, squatted in front of him, and took his head in her hands.
"Brady, come on. We have to go now." Her voice softened. "Do you want to go back up and see her? Mimi and I can walk home if you do."
Wordlessly, Brady stood up and allowed Belle to lead him off the elevator. As they walked towards the parking garage, he remained silent, thoughts running through his mind. He loved her. Of course he did. He'd never loved anyone as much as her. And now she was slowly being taken away from her. What was he supposed to do? He'd already lost the most important woman in his life to cancer, he couldn't handle losing the newest person to fill that title. And yet, what was he supposed to say? Hi Chloe, I hope you're feeling better, by the way, I'm in love with you? Odds were, she wasn't in love with him. Hell, she spent the entire last year unable to force herself to finally cut the ties from Uncle Phil. Then again, the look in her eyes during that god-awful spinal tap this afternoon clearly indicated that he was playing the role of her knight in shining armor. Well, no matter. He would leave it alone for now, she was using enough of her strength as it was, the last thing she needed was her best friend confessing his undying love for her. He drove home in a trance, dropping the unusually silent girls off at the penthouse before returning to his loft.
Walking in, Brady dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and flopped down on the couch. What was he going to do? Having acknowledged his feelings for Chloe made them more real. He'd been denying the obvious to himself for so long now, that telling himself he loved Chloe seemed like a major revelation, although it had been simmering under the surface for quite some time. He flipped on the stereo, looking for music he didn't usually listen to. Country. That would work. Normally he wasn't much for steel guitars and twangy voices, but today they seemed to resonate deeply within him. He drifted to sleep, listening to Lee Ann Womack's "I Hope You Dance." He awoke several hours later to the cheery sound of Lila McCann singing "Is It Just Me?"
Lately, I've been stumbling over my words When I talk to you I get nervous And I rehearse How to say hello
When you call me on the phone And when you're over at my house Watching TV, sitting on the couch Just hangin out
I catch you starin at me with that silly grin Are we just friends Or is there something going on Can you feel it too?
Or is it just me? Feeling this way? Am I the only one that senses Something going on behind the scenes
Or is it just you Whoever you are I can't resist and you can't help it Baby are you falling in love?
Or is it just me?
Maybe, you're just a harmless flirt And it's safe to rest assured That it's absurd the way my brain Will overanalyze And when my head begins to rush Everytime I think of us Hooking up I get the feeling that this feeling might be real
So what's the deal? Is there something going on? Can you feel it too?
Or is it just me? Feeling this way? Am I the only one that senses Something going on behind the scenes
Or is it just you Whoever you are I can't resist and you can't help it Baby, are you falling in love?
Or is it just me?... Who's pulse is pounding Whenever you're near, Is it hot in here?
Or is it just me?
Or is it just you Whoever you are I can't resist and you can't help it Baby, are you falling in love?
Or is it just me?
Damn. He couldn't get away from it. He had to see her, talk to her, hold her hand, make sure she was okay. Not that he would tell her how he felt, but he needed to be near her. Clicking the stereo off, Brady grabbed his keys and flew out the door.
* * * * * Chloe awoke with a start to the sound of a nurse coming in the room. She administered Chloe another dose of anti-nausea medication, adjusted the flow of the IV drip, and left the room. For some reason, this brought Chloe to tears. All at once, all of the stress and worry and anxiety and sadness and anger and fear she had been feeling for the past several weeks came crashing to the surface, and she sat in bed sobbing, unable to control the tears she had been holding back for so long.
Suddenly, she felt strong, safe arms wrapped around her, and a familiar voice say,
"Shh, shh.it's okay now, I'm here. Chloe, shh, honey, what's wrong? What happened?"
Allowing herself to be held, Chloe leaned up against the person's chest, struggling to rein in her hiccupping sobs. She inhaled Brady's fresh, clean, and overwhelmingly sexy scent, driving her right back to her tears, the torment he'd been causing her heart lately being one of things she was crying about.
Taking another shot at figuring out what was going on, Brady asked,
"Sweetheart, Chloe, honey, calm down, tell me what happened. What's wrong?" Still he got no answer, and so wordlessly he held her. He climbed atop the bed and pulled the distraught girl into his lap. For 10, 15, 20? minutes - Brady wasn't sure how long he sat there with her - Chloe buried herself in his chest, her arms holding onto him for dear life, her tears soaking his shirt.
* * * * *
Brady would never know how much he did for Chloe that night. Although a person wouldn't have known by the continuing intensity of her tears, his presence made everything easier for Chloe. In fact, perhaps his presence allowed her to continue crying, to finally give up the illusion of control and release the flood of emotions she so desperately craved an outlet for. Brady was the only person she had ever known to whom she could bare her soul, and here he was, sitting on her bed, holding her, there for her when she needed him the most. He was the best friend she had ever had, and she was madly in love with him. She knew that now.
However, it only made things worse, because she couldn't have him. He wasn't hers to claim. His heart belonged to, well, she wasn't sure who it belonged to, but it certainly wasn't her. She was just a kid, and his little sister's best friend at that. Eventually, Chloe's wracking sobs began to subside, as she literally wore herself out from crying. She quieted, and Brady began to stroke her hair and talk softly to her.
"Chloe, oh Chloe honey. Are you ready to talk, baby? Can you tell me what happened? What's got you so upset, sweetheart?"
Chloe sat up, pulling herself away from his chest, but refusing to leave the safety of his embrace. She looked into his eyes, nodding slowly, as if unsure of her answer. He caught her remaining tears with his thumbs, smoothed her hair, ready for her to tell him anything. She leaned against his chest; her words came in fragments, phrases, interrupted by the gasps for air of a person recovering from hysterics.
".tired.of being.sick.not fair.miss friends.want.want my mom.scared.don't want.don't want to die.no one.understands.love you.hair.falling.out.never go to.to..Jul- Jul- Julliard.I'm a.a burden.don't want any of this.just.need to cry.," she choked out, before bursting into tears again.
"Oh baby," was all Brady could say as he tightened his arms around her.
He hadn't known she had been covering so much up, and he was kicking himself for it now. How was he supposed to protect her, take care of her, if he couldn't even tell when she was upset?
And then Brady heard a beautiful voice not instantly recognizable, but hauntingly familiar nonetheless, as if it were known only to the recesses of his soul. "Brady, my love, my son. You're here now, that's what matters. She needs you. Give her what she needs. Give her yourself. I love you, and I believe in you. I always have, but it's time for you to share that love. Love her." And the room returned to silence.
Not letting go of Chloe for a moment, Brady shifted both their bodies so that they lay side-by-side on the bed. Crying had drained Chloe of her entire energy reserve, and she was quickly nearing sleep. As she snuggled in next to him, the fit of her body perfect against his, and occasional hiccupping sobs slowly working themselves from her body, Brady gently stroked her face and kissed the top of her head.
"My diva," he murmured. "My baby diva. I love you so much, sweetheart. Yes, my little drama queen, I love you." With that, he took her hand, lacing his fingers through her, and slowly drifted to sleep holding in his arms the girl of his dreams.
* * * * *
Chloe awakened in the middle night, startled, to say the least. Her clock said 3:17. Still unaccustomed to the dark surroundings of the hospital room, she was more interested in who was sharing her bed. As her eyes adjusted, she looked beside herself and saw that she was being held tightly in Brady's safe, strong arms. Alarmed at first, Chloe soon remembered the tears of the previous hours. She remembered him entering the room unnoticed, and without a word coming to sit by her and hold her as she cried. She thought vaguely that she might have told him she loved him, and she thought he might have returned the sentiment at some point, but her mind, still fuzzy from all the emotion, just could not put together clear memories. No matter. She was safe right now, content in the arms of the boy of her dreams.
Her slight movements had woken Brady, who now looked at her smiling as he traced the curvature of her face.
"Morning, Sunshine."
"I didn't mean to wake you up," she whispered. He smiled.
"Diva? Last night, did you say you love me?"
Well that certainly caught her off-guard. She hadn't expected him to start a conversation like that. This opening up, tearing down walls, admitting her feelings terrified her. But she felt safe with him, and she couldn't lie to him. He knew her too well, he'd see right through her. She looked down at the bed.
"Mm-hm," she murmured, supplementing her barely-audible affirmation with a slight nod of her head.
"Did you mean it?"
"Mm-hm," she answered, still shy, but honest, as always, with her best friend.
"Chloe," he gently lifted her chin with his index finger. "Do you love me?"
Well, it was now or never. She'd come this far already, but God, she was scared. And suddenly, the scared little girl, who'd never had cause to tell anyone in her life that she loved them, found the courage to tell the one person she had loved since what felt like the dawn of time how she felt.
"Yes, Brady. I love you." Terrified of his rejection, but knowing in her heart she wouldn't find it, she allowed her eyes to stay locked with his.
He reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and allowed his hungry lips to find hers. Resisting the urge to pin her to the bed and kiss her senseless, his kisses stayed shallow and gentle one, two, three times, before he pulled away to gauge her reaction. She smiled that hint of a smile he loved so much and leaned in to touch his shoulder.
"Brady, I,"
"Shhh.no words." He pulled her to him and resumed the kiss he'd been waiting so long to give. Never in his life had Brady kissed a girl so gently and yet so passionately. Resting his hands in her hair, Brady teased her bottom lip, as his tongue sought entrance to her mouth. New to his kisses, she rejected the offer initially, but soon caught on to his rhythm, allowing him to explore her mouth and tell her, wordlessly, how much he cared. Her hands found the nape of his neck, and she gently ran her fingers through the baby-soft hair there.
Gradually, Brady broke off the kiss, reluctantly separating himself from the only lips he ever wanted to kiss again.
"Chloe, I,"
"I thought you said 'no words'," she interrupted, grinning from ear to ear.
"I did," said Brady. He loved the way she challenged him, holding him responsible for everything he said and did.
"But we need to talk. One, not that I don't like kissing you, but if I don't stop kissing you right now, we're both going to regret it later. Two, I don't think I told you this yet: Chloe Lane, I love you. I want you to be my diva, my drama queen. Forever."
"I want that too," Chloe said, as she reached up to pull his lips to hers again. She kissed him lightly, gently, sweetly, and then snuggled deep into his arms to finish the night of sleep.
Tightening his embrace around her, Brady laid his head on the pillow and grinned.
* * * * *
The sun shone through the slats of the hospital blinds, gently waking Chloe and Brady. As each recognized the other was awake, they grinned at each other, and began their morning with a quick kiss. A Saturday morning, the usual 5:30 visitation by perpetually prodding physicians who would no doubt freak out at seeing Brady in bed with Chloe was not scheduled to take place. Shifting positions, but remaining comfortable in each other's arms, Brady picked up the TV remote from the bedside table and clicked the television on just in time to hear the beginning of an old rerun of "Family Ties."
I bet we've been together for a million years And I bet we'll be together for a million more Oh it's like I started breathing on the night we kissed And I can't remember what I ever did before
What would we do, baby, without us? What would we do, baby, without us? And there ain't no nothing we can't love each other through What would we do, baby, without us? Sha na na na
Brady looked at Chloe and smiled contentedly. She relaxed in his embrace as they contemplated life and love. You can't control life, any aspect of it. Hell, you can't even control who you love - they'd certainly tried, and look where that had gotten them. Brady couldn't promise to save her. He couldn't cure her disease, or undo the diagnosis. He couldn't promise things like that. But he could promise to love her as long as he lived. And that was okay. Chloe didn't want him to promise those temporal things. She didn't want promises he couldn't keep. She wanted his love, and she had that. For a girl whom life had repeatedly betrayed, who had spent 17 years looking for someone to love her, Chloe had all she needed, and all she could ask of the world. For a boy who couldn't predict what the future might hold, and who had lost the first woman he had ever loved, Brady had all he needed, and all he could ask of the world. As they lay contentedly in each others arms, neither Brady nor Chloe knew what to expect of the future. They would face this disease together, Chloe leaning on the strength Brady could provide for her. In doing so, they would face much that they didn't know how to handle. They loved each other, though, and for now, that was more than enough.
Credits: REO Speedwagon's "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore"
Lila McCann's "Is It Just Me?"
Family Ties' "What Would We Do"
Disclaimer: Days of Our Lives, NBC, and Corday Productions are the sole owners of these characters. I don't own any of them, obviously, because if I did, I would own Brady Victor Black in more ways than one. Please don't sue me. ( Thanks.