[Niall's POV]

“You were out for a while,” I told her. “What’s the last thing you remember?” That would at least help put a time-stamp on everything.

Dee swallowed. “Um,” she sighed and squinted more, her eyes narrow slits. “I, uh, wasn’t feeling well. Katherine made me go home. I got back…and…I was gonna rest, but decided to make a quick dinner first…I was getting ingredients—then, I got really dizzy—” She stopped abruptly, eyes darting from side to side as if she was watching footage of the memory playing out in front of her. “That’s probably when I passed out,” she slowly admitted.

“You were feeling so bad that Katherine made you go home, and you decided to make dinner before resting?” I asked, struggling to hide my irritation. The worry that turned into relief now turned into frustration.

We just talked about how she needed to take care of herself over the weekend, but—apparently—that didn’t matter today. Words were primed to pour from my brain to my throat, ready to ask her what she was thinking, if anything I said mattered, how she would have liked if something worse happened, how she thought the kids—how I— would feel if something happened after this because of her fall, but as soon as I was about say any those things, I remembered that I went to work. I went to work today and the day prior, when I knew she was sick. When I knew she was weak. When I should have known she might need help around the house. And suddenly, I felt like the biggest hypocrite.

Dee eyed me for a moment before lowering her gaze. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, and even with her squinting, I could tell she was trying hard not to cry.

If I didn’t hate myself the second before, I sure as hell did then.

“Hey,” I said gently, tentatively reaching for her hand. I was surprised to realize it was trembling under my fingers. “I’m sorry. It’s okay.”

Dee nodded, but didn’t respond.

I rubbed my thumb over the top of her hand. “Do you remember what time you came home?” I asked.

She paused to think, and looked a little less like she was going to burst into tears. “I, uh, think I got in the door around a quarter to three,” she finally answered.

“Oh, thank God,” I breathed, just as Sybil let out a sigh of relief.

The kids got home everyday around 2:55 PM, so at least Dee hadn’t been out long before they found her. In total, she was probably unconscious for just over half an hour, which was still bad, but not as bad as it could have been. Since Dee said she felt dizzy beforehand, I also felt confident that the reason she was out for so long had less to do with her head injury and more to do with the mystery illness she had. It didn’t make me feel better, but at least it felt like there was less of a risk of her having a hematoma, hemorrhage, or something like that.

“What time is it now?” Dee asked, a little more lucid.

I pursed my lips. She was not going to like the answer to that. “It’s 3:28.”

The more overt worry returned to her expression. “That’s…a lot longer than normal,” she said softly.

I squeezed her hand. “We weren't sure when you passed out. We were afraid it might have happened this morning. This…isn’t great, but it’s better than that.”

Dee nodded grimly, as if only half-hearing my words.

I wasn’t sure what to say. There wasn’t much encouragement I could offer. Anything I could say would be trite at best, and a lie I wasn’t even convinced of at worst. But I wanted to at least give her something.

It was moments like these when our relationship bothered me the most. This wasn't a situation where I could be funny, or animated, or eloquent. I couldn't just spit something out in a particular tone and make everything better. No matter how animated I was or sincere I sounded, it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t fix anything. My words fell flat before I could even speak them. What remained was the instinct to reach out. And in some ways, I could. In spite of being firm about not wanting to date, Dee still let me hold her hand, hug her, and touch her more often than was normal for the average friend—which was kind of nice and kind of awful at the same time. But I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to hold her, keep her safe, and just—not let go.

Part of it was misplaced frustration. As much as I would like to think I could just do those things whenever if we were dating, that’s not really true. For instance, even if I was dating Dee right now, the kids would still be where they were, and it would be heckin awkward if I took this moment to try to play at being some knight in shining armor.

Hell, I wouldn’t even make a good knight in shining armor. Dee can kick my ass.

I tried to push the conflicting thoughts from my mind and focus back on the present, where Dee needed more than comfort, but actual medical attention. I was no doctor, but we had done as much research and practice as we could, so there were at least some things I knew how to look for.

“Before we do anything else, I want to check you over. Is that okay?” I asked.

Dee met my gaze and I found myself surprised at how intensely her brown eyes shone. Her irises were bright enough to almost look orange, and even as her expression was contorted in worry, her eyes were still sharp. I was so distracted I almost didn’t realize she was nodding.

“Sybil, keep an eye on Dee. Parker, come with me,” I said.

Parker hopped up and together we went to get the family medical kit. When we were far enough away from the kitchen, I asked him how he was feeling. Seeing Dee on the floor was awful, and I could only imagine how it must have been to walk in on that. Dee was his sister, but because of how much she raised him, I knew the line between “sister” and “mom” was a little blurry for him. Granted, I personally had no concept of what someone would feel for their mother—I never knew mine. But if it was anything like I felt for the members of our family, it must be intense.

Parker shrugged and looked off to the side. “Not so good.”

“It must have been pretty scary to come home and find your sister like that.”

Parker nodded and was silent for a while. “Is—is Dee gonna die?” he finally asked.

Part of me wanted to rewind, go back, and not have said anything, but that wasn’t an option, and Parker deserved better. I don’t think there would have been a situation where the question wasn’t uncomfortable, but lately, it was a question I thought about a lot. A mysterious illness plus no access to medical care wasn’t a good combo, and there were many nights I spent staring at the wall, wondering if the woman I cared about most wouldn’t be around anymore. It hurt to think about, but answering that question from her nine-year-old brother…that was a new level of dread and discomfort.

I sighed and wracked my brain trying to think of how to word an answer that was both honest and sensitive.

“Well,” I started. “Death is something that happens to all of us one day, including Dee. She is sick right now, and that’s scary, because we don’t know what is wrong. It’s hard to tell how serious it is…so I don’t know. But I can say we are going to do everything we can to keep her healthy and get her better.”

I looked down at Parker, wondering if that was the right thing to say. I wasn’t one to lie to the kids—it was just a shitty thing to do. And this was something too serious to lie about, but damn was it hard to be honest.

Parker swallowed, his lips and eyes twitching. Tears welled underneath his dark eyelashes and he was blinking furiously to try and hold them back. “Okay,” he croaked.

“Hey, bud,” I said, trying to be as gentle as possible. I stopped walking and knelt down, placing my hands on his shoulders. “Nothing is certain yet. It’s okay to be scared, but remember: Dee is still alive. She is still with us, and given how tough she is, there’s a good chance that she’ll get better.”

Parker bit his lip and nodded, but his eyes shone with a little more hope and a little less tears.

“Here—come here,” I said, opening my arms for a hug.

He didn’t hesitate, falling forward with his arms around my neck and his face buried into my shoulder. He shook, soft sobs escaping his lips. I held him tight and let him stay there as long as he needed, my shirt quickly becoming wet with tears, mucus, and saliva. With him there, it was hard keep from crying myself, but I managed not to. Parker needed someone to be there for him, and I didn’t know that I could do that if I let my emotions get the best of me. That was something I could do later—alone.

Eventually, Parker’s sobs slowed, and then stopped. He pulled back, breathing heavy and wiping his eyes.

I kissed him lightly on the forehead. “We’re gonna get through this, bud,” I said. “Besides, Dee has the best support team I can think of,” I added, winking. “Like, I don’t know of any other families with someone who has eight legs and can climb walls. We practically have Spiderman on our side!”

Parker cleared his throat and cracked a smile.

I grinned back and patted his shoulder. “Now, come on, let’s get that medical kit before Sybil thinks we got lost.”