It's been two months since {{char}} had started her battle with cancer, two long, grueling months filled with chemo, nausea, and too many days lost to the fog of fatigue. But here she was, propped up in her hospital bed with pillows strategically placed around her to provide some semblance of comfort, playing her favorite video game on her Nintendo Switch Lite. Her fingers danced over the buttons with surprising dexterity considering her weakened state. On the screen, a fierce warrior fought valiantly against hordes of digital monsters, a stark contrast to Celine's own fragile form beneath the thin hospital gown. The room was dimly lit, only the soft glow of the TV and the moonlight streaming through the window providing illumination. The rhythmic beeping of machines and distant sounds of hospital staff moving about outside served as an ever-present reminder of her confinement, drowned out by the playlist of metal music blasting through her ear buds. "Oh bad man, what's the reason why," she sang along to the lyrics of Disturbed's 'Bad Man', "the innocent always have to die, by your hand?" her voice a quiet murmur, so subdued compared to her normal powerhouse singing voice. Her eyes remained focused on the screen as she navigated the virtual world, pushing through waves of pain and exhaustion to find solace in the pixelated battles—they seemed almost trivial compared to the real one she faced daily. Just keep fighting, she told herself, drawing strength from the words she often heard in her favorite songs. The door to her hospital room opened quietly and in walked Dr. Castillo, her oncologist. His expression was serious as he approached her bedside, clipboard in hand. His kind brown eyes searched hers as he greeted her. "Hey there, rockstar. How you holding up today?" Celine gave her in-game character a break by a bonfire and offered Dr. Castillo a tired smile. "Kicking ass at Dark Souls," she responded with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. Inside, though, she felt her heart rate spike just a bit at his presence—his visits usually meant news, good or bad. Dr. Castillo raised an eyebrow. "Already? Impressive," he said with a hint of humor, setting the clipboard down next to her bed. "How are you feeling today?" Celine considered lying, telling him that she felt fine because she didn't want to worry anyone, but she knew better. "If I don't tell him the truth, how can they help me fight this thing?" She took a deep breath. "Tired," she admitted, setting the game down on her lap. "Really tired. And my chest hurts from laughing earlier." Dr. Castillo nodded solemnly. "Understood," he said, making a note on her chart. "Your energy levels are bound to be up and down. Try not to push yourself too hard." He looked down at her charts again. "We're going to need to run some more tests to see how your last round of chemo went. They'll come get you shortly." As he left, Celine couldn't help but feel a pang of dread coil around her insides. More tests meant potentially more bad news, but she pushed those thoughts away. For now, she had music and video games and the promise of seeing {{user}} again soon. Leaning back into her pillows, she resumed her game, letting the roar of guitars fill her ears and transport her far away from the sterile walls of Saint Mary's Hospital.

"Hey you," she murmurs, glancing over at him as he walks in. "It's good to see your face." Her voice is weak, barely a whisper, but it carries more weight than any words ever could. Despite the drugs, her cancer-ravaged body still manages to look pale and fragile under the hospital blanket. She pats the empty spot beside her, inviting him closer. "Come sit with me."

Celine's heart aches when she sees the worry etched on Daniel's features, the dark circles under his eyes. It breaks her even more that it's all because of her. "Hey," she says again, reaching out to take one of his hands in hers. Her fingers feel cold and clammy against his skin. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

She pauses, searching for the right words. "Dr. Castillo came by earlier... he wants me to get more tests today," she confesses with a sigh. "But you know what?" She shakes her head slightly. "I can handle it. We've got this." Her determination is unwavering, even as the fear and doubt lurk just beneath the surface.

"So, how was your day?" she asks, trying to change the subject. They both know there's no point in dwelling on the negative right now. "Anything fun happen at work? Did you find any new plants that might help us cure my stubborn cancer?" Her tone is light-hearted and teasing, but it's clear she needs his support just as much as she needs her own strength to get through this fight.

"Well," she says with a small smile, "you know I can't let you have all the fun." The mention of food makes her stomach rumble loudly enough to earn a grimace from even Daniel. "Sorry about that. It's not like I can digest anything anymore... maybe we could ask for some Ensure or something?" she suggests half-heartedly. "And then we could pretend it's ice cream, and you know how much I love 'pretending,'" she adds with a laugh, but there's a hollowness to her voice that belies the humor in her words.

They lapse into silence for a moment as they both struggle with their own thoughts and emotions. "Hey," she finally says, gripping his hand tighter, "I want you to promise me something." Her voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper now. "Promise me that if...if it comes to that, you'll make sure they don't just let me fade away in here. That I can be with my mom, or..." She pauses, swallowing thickly, "...or with her." Her voice cracks on the last word as tears begin to well up in her eyes.

Daniel hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "I promise," he whispers back, his own throat tightening around the words. He knows what she means, and it kills him inside just as much as it does her. They sit together like that for a while longer, holding hands and staring at nothing in particular, both lost in their own private wars against fear and despair.

Eventually, a nurse comes by to prep Celine for her tests, breaking the uncomfortable silence with quiet words of encouragement and gentle reminders about not eating or drinking

As if sensing the weight of his emotions, Celine turns to him once she's settled into her bed and offers him a comforting smile. Her fingers brush against his cheek, wiping away a tear as gently as she can. "Hey," she says softly, her voice rough from her own tears. "It's going to be okay. We'll get through this together, you and me."

She hesitates for a moment before continuing. "I know it's hard... seeing me like this. But I promise you, I am still the same person inside. And as long as we have each other, we can face anything." Her voice is shaky but determined, and she squeezes his hand reassuringly.

The nurse returns with a wheelchair, ready to take her for her tests. "You ready, sweetheart?" the older woman asks gently as she rolls the chair up beside Celine's bed. Without waiting for an answer, she helps her lift her legs onto the footrests and then secures the Velcro strap across her chest.

As they wheel her out of the room, leaving Daniel alone once more, Celine glances back over her shoulder at him, her expression a mixture of love, fear, and strength. "I'll be back soon," she promises with a small smile. "And then we can kick this thing's ass all over again."

Her words are braver than she feels, but they echo in Daniel's mind long after she's gone: I'll be back soon. And together, they might just beat the odds.

Back in her room, the nurse settles Celine onto an examination table and starts hooking her up to IVs while she checks her vitals. The chemical smell of disinfectant mixes with the more personal scent of her own skin, making it hard for Celine to focus on anything else but the fight within her body.

As always, music plays softly in the background through a pair of earbuds. Today, she's listening to "The Sound of Silence" by Disturbed, finding solace in Simon and Garfunkel's words sung with such raw emotion by David Draiman. She closes her eyes, lost in the music as they prepare her for another round of tests.

"How are you feeling today?" asks Dr. Castillo as he walks into the room, looking over his notes and clipboard. His kind expression does little to hide the concern etched onto his face.

Celine shrugs weakly. "Tired," she admits. "But I'm hanging in there." She pauses for a moment before meeting his gaze. "I want you to know... that everything you and your team are doing, it means so much to me. It's not just about surviving this; it's about living my life afterward too. So thank you."

Her words surprise her as much as they do the doctor. Despite her protestations, she knows full well how slim her chances of beating cancer really are. But for now, she'll hold onto hope and gratitude like they're lifelines, refusing to give up until there's no fight left in her.

The nurse finishes up with her IV and stands back to give Dr. Castillo room to examine her. He listens to her lungs carefully through a stethoscope, scribbling notes on his chart as he does so. "You're looking well," he says, meeting her gaze with a reassuring smile. "Your labs look good too." His voice is hushed, but she catches the relief beneath his professional demeanor.

Celine swallows thickly, her heart pounding in her chest as she waits for him to finish. She's never been good at waiting, especially when it comes to her health. Finally, he sits back on his stool and looks up at her with a solemn expression. "Well," he begins, "I won't lie to you. Your scans do show some signs of progression, but..." He hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "But the truth is, we expected this. Your cancer is a tricky one, and it adapts quickly. The good news is that the treatment seems to be working in some areas."

Celine feels a mixture of relief and frustration wash over her. Of course there would be setbacks; she'd known that going in. But hearing it from the doctor makes it all too real. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking. "So what happens now?"

"Well," Dr. Castillo says gently, "we can either try to adjust your current treatment plan or consider some new options. The decision really comes down to a balancing act between effectiveness and side effects." He pauses, meeting her eyes with a steady gaze. "We could also discuss the possibility of enrolling you in a clinical trial for an experimental therapy, but that would involve additional tests to determine your eligibility."

Celine considers his words carefully. She's always been willing to try anything if it means beating this thing, but she knows firsthand how rough chemo can be on her body. "What are the chances of getting into a trial?" she asks tentatively.

Dr. Castillo leans back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach as he ponders the question. "Honestly," he says after a moment's consideration, "I think your odds are better than most. Your case is quite unique, and our research team is very interested in studying your particular strain of cancer." He hesitates again before continuing, "But we should discuss this further with your support group and family, just to make sure everyone's on board."

Celine nods thoughtfully. She knows what Daniel would say; she can practically hear his voice urging her to try anything if it means beating the odds. But the decision ultimately lies with her, and she needs to weigh all the options carefully before making a choice.