A.N.: So you guys might hate me after this one. For the record, it did hurt me to write. That has to count for something. But you know me. It's never happy.

"Let me in!"

"Miss, we can't-"

"Like hell you can't; I'm his fiancé!"

Groggily, he opened his eyes to see Jessica rushing past a Vellocitarian nurse into the room.

"Jess?" he said groggily. A small smile crept onto her face.

"Hey, sweetie," she turned to the nurse, "How is he?"

"There is a lot of internal bleeding," the nurse said, "They did surgery to repair the hole, but…"

"But?" Jessica asked, eyebrow raised.

"We do not have the correct blood. Human blood is harder to come by, and his type is the rarest one, so-"

"I can donate."

The nurse shook their head.

"Your types don't match. We have to wait for more blood to be delivered." The nurse left the room.

"How are you feeling?" Jessica asked, sitting down in the chair next to the bed.

He considered the question for a moment.

"Tired," he admitted. Jessica bit her lip nervously.

"Go to sleep, baby," she whispered, "You need rest." She kissed his forehead as he fell back to sleep.

"There was an accident at a space station; the ship with the blood had to stop," an unfamiliar voice whispered.

"How much longer will it be?" Jessica whispered back.

"It's hard to tell."

It had been two days since the explosion. He had been sedated for most of it, but they were running out of medicine that was safe for humans. Jessica had angrily contacted every medical facility in the system, but no one was giving up supplies.

"I don't understand how you aren't more upset," she said as he read his book.

"I don't have the energy to," he said bluntly. She chuckled, glancing at his vitals.

"They don't think I'll make it, do they?" he asked, startling her.

"No idea," Jessica said, not looking at him, "They don't tell me shit."

"What a great birthday," he muttered.

Shakily, he reached for a bottle of water. As he took a sip, his entire body tensed as he puked.

"Oh god," Jessica whispered as she pressed the call button, "That's a lot of blood."

The Vellocitarian nurse rushed in and saw the mess.

"Chralnak," they cursed, grabbing a container of wipes.

Keith allowed himself to be cleaned up, determinedly staring at the holographs on the ceiling. He couldn't bear to look at Jessica, for he could already hear her stifled tears.

"Excuse me," she whispered, running out of the room.

"The air was full of their scent, sweet and heady, and it seemed to me as though their very essence had mingled with the running waters of the stream, and beome one with the falling rain and the dank rich moss beneath our feet. There was no sound here but the tumbling of the little stream, and the quiet rain. When Maxim spoke-"

"Jess?" Keith interrupted. She gently marked the page and put the book down.

"What is it, sweetie?" she whispered.

"Should we do our vows?"

The color escaped her face.

"Why would we do that?"

"Well, it's been a while. I don't want to die without being married to you."

There was complete silence, which even the machines did not dare to break as the two gazed upon each other.

"Let's talk about this in the morning," she suggested, squeezing his hand, "When you're a little less tired."

Not wanting to argue, he allowed himself to grow sleepy as Jessica picked the book back up.

"When Maxim spoke his voice was hushed too, gentle and low, as if he had no wish to break upon the silence. 'We call it the Happy Valley,' he said."

It had almost been a week since the explosion. Despite his best efforts, Keith was clearly getting worse. The wound had reopened, and the doctors could not close it without the proper medicine. Jessica spent every second at his side. Mostly they discussed the future they had dreamed of together. But when this got too emotional for them to handle, Jessica would pick up the book and read aloud.

Once again, Keith puked up some blood.

"It's time," he whispered. Eyes filled with tears, Jessica nodded and squeezed his hand.

"I, Jessica, take you, Keith, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life." She began to sob as he squeezed her hand with what little strength he had.

"I, Keith, take you, Jessica, to be my wife, and these things I promise you: I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you; I will share my life with you; I will forgive you as we have been forgiven; and I will try with you better to understand ourselves; through the best and worst of what is to come, as long as we live."

They stared at each other.

"Well," he said with a grin, "We did it."

It was late, too late for either of them still to be up. Keith could feel himself fading.

"How many pages do we have left?" he asked.

"Only about five," she said.

"Will you finish it?" he asked. Nodding tightly, she picked the book up and opened it.

"It was going to be very different in the future. I was not going to be nervous and shy of the servants any more. With Mrs. Danvers-"

Keith only half paid attention the exact words, instead focusing on the voice giving them life. The timbre, the cadence, the inflections; he needed to remember.

Jessica could hardly keep her voice steady as she read. She was no fool, anyone could see what was happening. It was odd to be reading on one's deathbed, but she couldn't really expect anything different from the same man who once asked her to prom with a wordball bouquet.

"There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea."

Gently closing the book, she stared down at her husband. He was staring at her with love-filled eyes.

"You are the most beautiful woman," he whispered.

"You look like shit," she said bluntly. He laughed, which became a cough. Holding his hand, she fought back tears for the hundredth time.

"It'll be okay, Jess," he assured her.

"It's not fair," she whispered, tears beginning to stream down her face, "It's just not fair."

"Life's not fair, princess," he said with a smile, "Anyone who says differently is selling something." She smiled at his reference.

"Hold me," Keith whispered, pushing the bed up into a sitting position. Jessica wrapped her arms around him, cherishing each movement.

"Gently," she whispered, laughing a little at her own terrible reference.

"That's all you can say at a time like this? Gent-"

The machines began to beep, but she didn't need them to tell her that he was gone.

A.N.: So yeah… sorry about that. I promise this isn't where I originally intended the story to go. But it was just too dramatic this way for me to resist. I'll be waiting for your curses in the review section and I'll try to make a happy little Christmas story soon.