Lana found a good balance between distracting me and letting me grieve. And I guess that was necessary. It was sad that a young girl like her knew so much about death. Up until then I had thought that through the fiction and the lyrics I had been writing, I had become an expert on the topic but the truth was, I had no idea. I had only ever looked at the beautiful dark side of it. Not actually the ugly dark side. The one that made you spasm with pain, cutting through you like a knife, the one that held no romantic connotation. As grateful as I was for Lana, I wish I could spare her witnessing all that. She had survived yet she was grieving with me and for me. I was completely sober now, had left my Xanax at my apartment and there was no alcohol at Lana's. She had even hidden her medication from me, just to make sure. It had nothing to do with trust, I would never be sneaky like that and she knew it but it did help me battle the tempting thoughts about numbing my pain again.

So as ridiculous as Lana's plan had seemed at first, it worked. Not only did it distract me from my grandma's death, it distracted me from the demons that had been haunting me long before she even got sick. For the first time in almost a year, I didn't feel like I needed to drink or pop some pills in order to be happy. Lana's presence was enough to chase away the bad thoughts and feelings. As soon as she noticed me drifting away again, she caught me and pulled me back. I had no idea where she got her strength but she was the strongest person I knew, even in her weakest moments.

'You really don't have to do this.' she said as we pulled up to the hospital, ironically it was raining that day.

Again, I thought about how strong she was and how weak I had been, letting her take care of me. I knew she didn't see it like that but I still felt guilty, she hadn't been getting much sleep since I started staying with her, my nightmares waking me and ultimately her, every night. I ignored her comment, grabbed her fluffy blanket from the backseat and got out of the car, walking over to her side to open the door for her.

'Gerard...'

She knew I was being stubborn and looked at me with her eyebrows raised.

'Let's just do this.' I replied and Lana sighed.

Returning to the hospital where my grandma had died was painful, yes. But in a weird way it also gave me hope. It was also the place where Lana was getting better now so it wasn't all doom and gloom. That's what I tried to focus on and no, it wasn't easy but it wasn't as hard as I had imagined it to be. She held my hand to comfort me and I didn't let go although I felt okay. I didn't let go because I wanted to be the one comforting her for a change.

'Gerard! What a surprise!' the nurse greeted me as Lana and I walked up to the admission desk. 'How are you?'

There was that fake smile again. The same one she had given me on my first visit. Back then she had known while I had still been in denial.

'I'm okay.' I left it at that, not in the mood to make conversation.

*

Nurse Megan looked at me, then back at Gerard and I could tell she had to hold her tongue. I finished filling out the forms and she led me into the treatment room where I was told to wait for Dr Miller, as always. Honestly, I didn't want Gerard to come with me in there but he followed me nonetheless. We sat down and looked at each other in silence. It felt like we had both decided to pay our respects to this place, the place where Elena had spent her last weeks, the place where she had passed. And at the same time, the place where I would hopefully get rid of the cancer for good.

Dr Miller came, also surprised to see Gerard, giving us an inquisitive look. I knew what he was thinking but I ignored it.

'Let's get started, shall we? How have you been doing, Lana?' he asked, adjusting the IV in my arm.

'Great! Gerard has been showing me the city.'

'Oh, that's lovely.' he looked at Gerard, who smiled softly but forced. 'I'm glad you're doing okay too, Gerard.'

'Thanks to Lana.' he replied and our eyes met again and for a brief moment I seemed to forget where I was.

The way he looked at me made my heart beat faster. Which was such a cliché but I couldn't think of any other way to describe it. Weirdly enough, he made me feel calm at the same time. As if I didn't have a care in the world although I had so many. I hoped that maybe, I was making him feel like that too and what I found in his eyes made me feel confident that I did. I would never give myself credit for taking care of him just like he wouldn't for taking care of me. But I was the reason he was here and he was the reason I was here and there was no doubt about it. We were keeping the silent promise we had made to ourselves and to Elena.

'What are you drawing?' I asked him ten minutes later. I had finished the tabloid I had picked up from the table and was watching him. It was fascinating to me since I had no artistic talent whatsoever.

'You.' he just muttered without lifting the pencil from the paper.

'Show me.' I demanded and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Had I just made him blush? I chuckled, trying my best not to interpret it wrong. He handed me the sketchbook.

It was me. Just not the way I really looked. It was me if I were pretty. Beautiful, actually. Even before the cancer, I had never considered myself pretty. Decent looking, maybe. Cute, on good days. But never beautiful.

'That's...nice.' I said, handing back the sketchbook. He frowned. 'I mean, it's really good but umm...not what I look like.' I didn't want to offend him. His skill was undeniable.

'Yes you do. It's the way I see you, deal with it.' Gerard grumbled and continued sketching without even looking at me. He was in one of those moods today. Where he was in his own bubble, not really letting anyone in. What had I expected? Today of all days.

I let him be, ignoring his comment and just enjoying his presence until I was done and the nurse took out the IV. As always, I felt a little dizzy so they brought me my old nemesis, the wheelchair, to take me back to the car. This drug didn't make me feel as bad as the actual chemo but I knew I would be sick for the rest of the day and I dreaded it. Letting Gerard see me like that was the last thing I wanted to happen but I didn't say anything, knowing that he would just start arguing with me, about how he wanted to be there for me, giving me shit for thinking that he couldn't handle it. But I was being the strong one right now. Seeing me throw up and shivering in bed in the middle of summer wouldn't exactly make him feel confident that I was getting better. Wasn't that funny? That I was doing it for him and not for myself?

*

'I'll make you something to eat.' I said and opened the fridge while Lana sat down with a cup of tea.

'Ugh, I don't think I can eat. But thanks.' she answered and I turned around. She looked pale and had her blanket wrapped around her tightly, sipping her tea with shaky hands.

Shit. I knew this was gonna happen and she had prepared me for it. Prepared as in begged me to go back to my apartment until she felt better so I didn't have to deal with her being sick after the treatment. And of course I had refused. As hard as it was to see her like this, I was glad I had refused. I didn't want her to be alone. Maybe, in a fucked up way, I could finally get my chance to give back. Comfort her. Take care of her. Just like she had been comforting and taking care of me.

'Maybe some soup?' I said, instantly realizing I couldn't even make soup. I was hopeless. Cooking was one of the few things my grandma hadn't been able to teach me although she had attempted to, numerous times.

Lana shook her head and got up, walking over to the couch. I ran over to her, making sure she didn't fall.

'You have to eat something. Biscuits? You have biscuits, right?' I sat her down and hurried back into the kitchen, opening the cabinets.

'Gerard please. Stop.' she moaned. 'Stop fussing. I don't want anything. Just...ugh...'

Next thing I knew, she was running to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her as a warning for me not to follow her in. Fuck. I got it, she didn't need anybody because she had never had anybody to take care of her. From what she had told me, her mother was a selfish bitch and although her stepdad Greg was nice, he simply didn't have the time to care for Lana. She was so used to doing everything on her own that she didn't need me either. Well, she did, she just didn't know it. Or had problems admitting it. Or worse, would somehow wangle it into something she would let me do for my own benefit and for no other reason.

'Lana?' I knocked on the bathroom door, knowing that she would just yell at me to go away. So I decided not to let her and simply walked in. 'Are you okay?'

The question was kind of unnecessary. Lana was sitting on the floor next to the toilet, wiping her mouth with some tissues. Surprisingly, she didn't protest as I walked over to her, sliding down the wall until I was sitting beside her. Her shivering had gotten worse so I put my arms around her, pulling her against my chest. There was some hesitation but eventually I could feel her relax, accepting the comfort I was offering her.

She puked until she had nothing left in her and I tried my best to take away some of the discomfort, rubbing her back and making her sip camomile tea. It hurt seeing her like that but she looked at me with so much gratitude that made it all worthwhile. Eventually, at around 3am, I was able to get her into bed.

'You still think I'm beautiful?' she said, already half asleep before I had even turned off the lights. I looked at her for a moment, studying her face. There was really no doubt about it.

'The most beautiful girl in the world.' I replied and kissed her forehead, meaning it with every fibre of my being.

*

I felt queasy for another two days so Gerard and I spent them inside, watching old episodes of the X-Files. He had made me chicken soup, following my instructions, and it was surprisingly good for the amount of swearing, whining and eye-rolling Gerard had managed to display while doing it. It made me giggle and he cursed me too until he retracted, stating how glad he was to see me laugh even though I was laughing at him. As much as I enjoyed exploring the city together, there was something about lying on the couch with him, only moving when really necessary. He kept teasing me about having a crush on Mulder and I played along, going on about how I imagined him to be naked under his trench coat. His phone rang, interrupting us.

'Hey Ray, how's it goin'?' Gerard said, picking up. 'Hmm, I'm okay. Nah I'm not at home...I'm with Lana.'

The fact that he used my name like that, like his friends knew who I was and there was no need to explain, made me smile. He had talked to them about me. I don't know why that surprised me but the feeling that took a hold of me surprised me even more. I pressed pause and got up, giving him space to continue the conversation. About 15 minutes later, he came into my room.

'Everything okay?' I asked as he sighed and sat down next to me.

'Fine. They just asked me if I think I'll be ready to come back in two weeks or if I want to cancel the next tour too.'

'And?'

'I dunno. I guess I am but I'm not sure if I want to.' he said and I was taken aback. Why would he say that? The band meant the world to him, he loved performing and he was writing songs constantly.

'But...why?'

He sighed again, looking down at his feet.

'I'm...scared. That I'll go back to my old ways. You have no idea how it is on tour. It's virtually impossible to stay sober.' of course, I thought. I wish I could make him see just how strong he was and that with enough willpower, he could make it work. Question was, did he have that willpower?

'You should talk to the guys. Maybe you could like...come to a compromise. No booze, no drugs, no partying.' I replied, knowing how unrealistic that was.

'That would work, if it was just us. But we're touring with two other bands and I can't just make them not party. Ugh, I hate this. I guess I just have to lock myself in the van and not come out until it's time to go on stage.'

I knew nothing about this kind of lifestyle so I felt useless, not able to give him any advice. Everything was easier said than done.

'Well what about Mikey? What does he think?'

'Mikey doesn't care. He hasn't cared about anything lately. I wish I could talk to him but I don't know how. He has always looked up to me but nowadays I feel like he's doing the opposite of what I would do, just to piss me off or push me away. He's acting like a rebellious teenager.'

'He'll get over it. I guess the best thing you can do is to let him be and not give him any lectures until he figures it out on his own and feels like a complete dick. That's how he'll learn his lesson.'

Gerard was quiet for a while, probably thinking about what I had said. I looked at him and he closed his eyes for a moment as if to get away from it. 'I also don't want to leave you.' he whispered, opening them again to look back at me.

'And I don't want you to leave. But you can always come back. Anytime. I'm not going anywhere for now.' I saw him flinch at the 'for now' part. I had avoided the Paris topic ever since Elena had died, not wanting to deal with it at the moment. From the look on his face I could tell that he didn't want to deal with it, ever.

'I guess we should make the most of the next two weeks then.' he mumbled and I nodded.