A week later, Raelyn finds herself sitting outside of Ronan's room on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her shins. She ignores the strange looks other visitors give her, dismisses the sweet nurses that offer to get her anything she needs. All she needs, all she wants, is for her brother to heal. Abruptly, a sharp pain shoots through her chest, muscles clenching, spasms, automatically releasing the firm grip her right hand has on her left forearm, bringing the palm of her hand to her chest plate. She presses down hard, as if this time it will actually stop the feeling.

Rae knows she should be use to the feeling already, it's been four long years, she's frustrated with herself that it still affects her the way it does. Nothing has changed about it, despite the amount of the pain increasing. It's the same tightening around her heart, almost as if the pumping muscle itself is claustrophobic, screaming for releasing, for air, for something. It seems to be getting worse, the pain, each day Ronan is still lying in that bed.

She still struggles with it, the panic attacks, the anxiety. It feels like she's drowning some times, being dragged down by the thing that haunts her nightmares, fighting for air, lungs burning for oxygen. Other times it's like her body constricts inward. Like a internal snake is nesting in her chest, weaves it's scaly body in between her ribs, around her lungs, coils over her heart. She was never chronic to panic attacks before. Never happened until she forced herself to suck up her tears, keep them in and bottled up, because crying about this, about Ronan isn't doing him any good. It doesn't help him, doesn't heal him. Tears are useless to her mother, to her job, to the other families around her. She feels like she has to be strong for everyone in the hospice, at least on the same floor. Has to be the strongest for her small family. She needs to be the hero Ronan sometimes think she is.

So Rae doesn't cry, not anymore, thanks to her father, but all because crying doesn't make her strong. When she starts to feel it begin to bubble in her chest, that's when the pain starts. The clenching of her chest causes her to want to try and rip out her heart just so she doesn't have to feel it anymore. She never thought that the absence of her tears would be physically painful. At times, Rae thinks her dried up tears, fuel and power the metaphorical sauna she's trapped in; steam fills up her lungs, overheats and suffocates her.

Vaguely she thinks in the back of her mind, the option of seeing a psychologist again like she began too that first year. Then she remembers why she had to stop going, and pick up extra shifts at Japser's just to pay for house bills. However, the attacks had been slowing down, and Rae knows the main reason why. Never before did she have someone to help her through it like she does now.

Someone to throw her a lifeline, pull her to the waters surface, anchors her on the solid ground. To unwind the curling snake around her heart, to break open the sauna door. To let her breathe, gives her air to do so; to calm her, and all she can see is blue eyes among the shades of gray of her metaphors.

Although the past week suddenly begs to differ, to prove her wrong, that maybe there isn't a beautiful, kind boy with those same blue eyes to help her through it. She knows why, why she's been trying to stop the clenching in her chest, why her breath cuts off. Ronan doesn't seem to be progressing.

The first time Raelyn was forced out of his room was just after his chemotherapy session. Ronan suddenly passed out mid treatment, vitals dropping dangerously low. Rae called out to the nurses, standing back and allowing them to try to stabilize her brother, frozen in her spot. She didn't realize how hard she had dug her nails into her chest, not until she got home that night and noticed scaly imprints from her fingernails. It continued like that throughout the week, ups and downs, and heart stopping moments. The last chemo session was the worst, left Ronan to pass out yet again, only this time after, Ronan could hardly walk on his own. His small legs wobbled horribly, then gave out, nearly crashing to the floor before Rae caught him.

It was another Friday afternoon the second time it happened. Raelyn sat on the still notorious shocking chair in the playroom, snapping pictures. Zayn and Niall next to her attempted to steal her camera and take selfies with a twelve year old patient. Harry sat with Olivia, who deemed it okay for him to have fake little flowers in his curly hair. Ronan had been off playing and building lego's with Liam and Louis on the other side of the room. Ronan had gone to stand up to get another bucket of the small lego pieces, carrying them back over, with Liam's help.

Abruptly, Ronan swayed, dropping the bucket, his knees giving out again. Ronan had quickly reached out, his small fist clutching tightly to the hem of Liam's shirt. Liam acted quickly, scooping up the small boy into his arms, hoping he was fast enough for his falter to go unnoticed by his sister. It didn't. Rae snapped her attention over to them the moment she heard the cluttering of the legos, watched as Liam caught her brother and tried to play it off. Louis began picking up the legos, shot a look at Zayn and Niall, to which they both started to distract her. Rae wasn't stupid. She knew what they tried to do. To humor them, she just gave them a smile, pushing down her panic until later, silently thanking Liam for catching her brother.

Rae forces herself back to the present, chewing on her bottom lip. It's not like she's in denial with the worsening condition of her baby brother. It's just that the past week has been nothing but panic attacks, one even coming from her mother; which had been hard to watch and hard to calm her down. She was exhausted, and the constant pain in her chest was becoming annoying and unavoidable if she kept thinking about it. So she started to do what she had done with her tears; she held back. Forced her emotions down, tried cutting them off to be stronger for Ronan, for her mother.

If MaryAnn doesn't see Rae panic, then in return, it gives her mother a sense to hope. It keeps Ronan calm when Rae sounds sure, confident. So maybe she's not quite in denial about her brother, but she is denying her own emotions for it. She can just take on everyone else's if she has too. If she has to be strong for them, though maybe she doesn't notice how short her fuse is becoming.

Recently, a new doctor came on Ronan's case, a pessimistic asshole if she ever met one. He spews nothing but darkness and hopelessness and that is not something her mum nor four year old brother needs to hear. She gets angry when he comes in for a minute to see Ronan, suggest something they've already tried and didn't work, then leaves again, not bothering to take his storm cloud with him. She hates him. Doesn't think he deserves to see Ronan anymore.

"Raelyn?" At the mention of her name, Rae snaps out of her reverie, looking up at Doctor Ramsey somber face, Doctor Asshole with him. She immediately stands up, pushing way the ball of panic beginning to form in her stomach.

"He's stable, for now. Probably won't last very long." Dr. Asshole informs. "However-"

Rae bites the inside of her cheek to hold back her insults.

"I think we should take a new approach in his treatment." Dr. Ramsey inputs quickly. He knows her well enough to know when she doesn't like a doctor.

"What," Rae speaks slowly, "does that mean?"

"We'll try a higher dose of chemo-"

"What!?" Rae interrupts. "Why? He's not doing well with this treatment now, what makes you think he'll do better with the next one?"

"Raelyn, it's just an experiential trail-"

"Experiential!? He's a four year old child with cancer! You shouldn't be experimenting any trails on him!"

"Please calm down, Raelyn." Dr. Ramsey holds up his hands, warning her softly. "I don't want to have to ask you to leave."

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she swallows her anger. "Can I see him, please?" She asks through gritted teeth, opening her eyes.

Asshole speaks up. "That isn't a good idea."

"It's just his immune system is weak at the moment, Rae." Ramsey informs her.

Rae nods curtly, peering around the man in the white coat, trying to catch a glimpse of her brother. The blinds are shut tightly, blocking out any prying eyes. That annoys her for unknown reasons. She understands he could get sick easier, but to not even let a family member in sparks a new fuse. She doesn't expect to hear his voice behind her, especially not on a Tuesday evening.

Something starts snapping inside her, causes her anger to boil back up. Maybe it because she's finally cracking, finally allowing herself to lash out with all the emotions she had been bottling, and anyone within fifty feet of her would be the poor, unsuspecting, innocent bystander to feel the backlash of it all. That poor unsuspecting, innocent, bloody bystander is none other than the one person who is helping her through it all; Louis.

"Is everything alright?" Louis inquires, coming to a stop next to her. "Raelyn?" There's an underlining of concern laced in his voice, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Everything is fine. Bloody brilliant, in fact." She snaps at Louis, jerkily shrugging off his hand. She ignore the shocked, nearly hurt look on his face. "Now if you'll excuse me. I have to do an experimental photoshoot deciding whether a fish can survive without water."
With that, she snatches up her bag from the floor and squeezes between the two doctors, stalking angrily down the hall.

***

The beige doors of the lift only has a foot left to close, and Rae thinks she'll be alone, before a tattooed forearm shoved its way between the doors, forcing them to retract. Rae curses inwardly. She's angry, barely holding it together, can feel herself shaking, fists trembling in an effort to try to push it all back again.

"What the bloody hell was that!?" Louis demands, stepping onto the lift. He slams his palm against the button that shuts the doors, stopping any escape plan Rae might have had.

Rae presses herself into the corner, looking down at her brown boots. There's a rip by her pinkie toe and if she focuses on that, maybe he'll just leave her be. Louis doesn't push for an answer, or makes another sound until the lift reaches the bottom floor. He doesn't speak until they're halfway through the car park, two rows away from her car.

"Rae? Talk to me, please?" Louis ask softly, cautiously.

Rae tires, she honestly tries to hold it all back, but suddenly, she just doesn't want to anymore. It's like she really, really needs, and wants to lash out at someone. But doesn't she have the right to snap, to let go, to be as angry as she is? Doesn't she deserve to feel the way it boils her blood, and rises up from the pit of her stomach to her aching chest until it's spilling from her mouth like fiery word vomit? She's just angry. So angry, and exhausted, and stressed and unfortunately, Louis is the only one around. Probably the only one who won't exactly reprimand her for it.

"I don't want to talk to you!" Rae yells, whirling around to face him. She knows she'll probably regret this, probably ruin whatever was just beginning between them, but she just can't stop. "I don't want to talk to anyone! I'm so tired of this. I'm done, Louis. I don't want to feel like this anymore!"

"Feel-feel like what?" Louis cautiously encourages, as if she yells at him all the time. Like he was expecting it.

"Like there's any chance of hope left!" She drops her bag to the pavement- Louis winces- both hoping for a moment the smack wasn't the sound of her camera breaking.

"Raelyn, you should still have hope-"

"No! No I don't. Have you seen him in there, Louis? I know you've seen how bad he's gotten. He isn't getting better! Don't patronize me into thinking there's still any ounce of hope left because there isn't. I've been hoping and wishing and praying for four years and where has that gotten him? He can't fucking walk, Louis! So don't tell me I still have to have hope, faith, what ever the fuck I should have. They're doctors for Christ sake, and they can't do a damn thing! Remember those twins, Louis, remember them? They were given a new experimental treatment for chemo, the same one they want to put Ronan on. They died in their parents arms two weeks later. I don't want that- I don't- Ronan can't died- he can't. Not in m-my arms."

Rae hears her voice shake, starts to feel everything catch up to her, feels the hot prickling of a panic attack in her stomach. Louis steps forward, cautiously, reaching out a hand, but Rae takes another step back. She inhales a deep shuddering breath, and continues on, ignoring the clenching in her chest, the way her breath begins to shorten.

"I hate it. I hate feeling like this. Like I can't do anything but hope. It just doesn't work. Hope didn't bring me father back to us. Hope didn't make our finical situation better, we're struggling to the point of where you all gave us money. I hate the way this all makes me feel. I hate not crying, because it hurts. I hate that it hurts, hate feeling like I'm weak. I hate faking smiles to me brother and lying to people telling them it's fine. I hate the way people look at mum and I, like we're going to crack any minute.

"I hate that the only one I can turn to is you. I hate how you make me feel safe. Like it's perfectly okay if I let it go. I hate how you got me to open up. I hate the way you make me feel because I can't handle that right now. I can't handle the way me stomach screams when you're around me. I hate that you try make me laugh when I all want to do is the opposite! I hate that you keep kissing me, because you somehow just make it all better.

"Hate it because I don't know how to do that for meself, or for Ronan, for me mum. I hate when you're all away, when you have to go and do your actual job, and I can't do anything but sit alone wondering if that day will be the day Ronan dies, because then I'll be alone. I've always hated being alone and I hate trying to ignoring it all!"

Louis blinks once, twice, mouth slightly open in shock. He just stares openly at her, like he's a deer caught in her headlights. She doesn't like it. Rae finally gives in to herself, hand flying to her heaving chest, nails digging into skin through her shirt. She hunches over a little, attempting to catch her breath, calm herself before she feels like the cars in the lot are closing in on her. She can't remember how to count.

Louis slowly closes his mouth. "So don't." He finally speaks, slowly, quietly.

"I- what?" Rae asks, a mixture of confused anger.

"Don't ignore it." Louis shrugs. "You can't keep doing that, love. You can't just ignore and push everything you're feeling behind a wall. Eventually you get this." Louis gestures the length of her now trembling body. "A scary version of yourself, that quite frankly makes me want to run and hide because I'm pretty damn sure fire is about to shoot from your eyes." Rae snorts, rolling her eyes. Apparently that's a reaction he was looking for, so Louis takes another step forward. Rae stays put.

"Don't ignore how any of it makes you feel. Letting go isn't weakness, Raelyn. Nothing about you is weak. It's alright to feel everything. It's okay to do, well...this. You needed to get it out. It's not healthy to hold it all in. Jesus Christ." Louis shoves his fingers through his hair, knocking off the beanie he's wearing, clutching it in his hand. "How long have you been doing that? A long time, by the looks of you."

Rae can't focus on him anymore, just like she can no longer breathe properly. She fully bends over now, one hand on her knee, head dropped between her shoulders. Suddenly she doesn't who might die anymore, her brother or her. She currently can't breathe, cant get her lungs to work, so maybe it's her. Something touches her back, starts rubbing up and down while a voice, Louis' voice she can hear clearly, coaches her in her ear.

"You know how to breath, darling." He's saying gently, "in for two..."

So she follows his instructions, can breath easier when she gets to eight, can inhale deeply at ten. Feeling like she's no longer suffocating, she straightens up, top teeth biting into her bottom lip. She didn't notice Louis captured her hand assaulting her chest until he releases it, only to place his thumb on her lip, gently pulling it away from her teeth. There's a few drops of blood on his thumb that he frowns at, before wiping it away on his jeans. Rae licks her lip, copper bitter on her tongue.

"You are perfectly in the right to feel all of this." Louis begins, lowering his voice, just above a whisper. "You are so, so strong for Ronan. He loves you so much Rae. He would hate to see you so mad...sad...smad."

Rae makes a noise between a one syllable laugh and scoff. It makes the corners of Louis mouth turn up. He hooks his index finger beneath her chin, keeping her gaze locked on his. Rae's heart stutters for a moment; can't tell if its good or bad.

"As for me..." Louis trails off, a strange look clouding over in his blue eyes.

Oh no. Bad. Bad, very bad once Rae remembers how her rant took a turn directed at him. She made it seem like she hates him. She has everything else but hate for him.

"Don't worry about it."

Rae blinks. What. "What?"

Louis shrugs, drops his hand away and takes a step back. "Just let me know if I'm getting to be a pain in your arse, and I'll send Zayn in to save you."

"Lou...Louis no. That's not what I-" Rae cuts herself off. She couldn't have already ruined what they hardly have. "You aren't. A pain. Far, far from it, Louis. Sorry." She stumbling all over herself, but the way Louis is looking at her makes her think he doesn't believe she hates him. She was to make sure though.

"I don't hate anything you've done for me." She confesses. "Complete- complete opposite really. That was just...please."

Louis just opens his arms for her, smiling softly, like he just understands. Like he's always been able to understand her no matter what. So she goes willingly into his arms, squeezes her own tight around his waist, and buries her face into his chest. She listens to his heartbeat, sounding like it's beating a little faster than normal, doesn't know if it's from her yelling at him or just holding her. She lets the rhythmic beating of his heart calm her for a few moments, before squeezing her eyes shut coming to terms with herself.

"I'm so scared, Louis." Rae confesses quietly. So quiet, she isn't even sure if he heard her, voice muffled by his shirt. He seems to, for he just holds her closer, and presses his lips to her forehead. He places his beanie atop her head.

"I know, love." Louis whispers. "I've got you, Rae. It's alright."

Rae just holds tights, holds on tight to everything Louis offers her. Holds on until it slowly begins to rain, water drops falling around them, begins to soak into their clothes. Holds on because that's the only thing she can do for now.

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Notes