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This is the THIRD SECTION of Part 3. READ THIS LAST!
People weren't meant to get scanned. Documents, photographs, information, those were things that should get scanned. Not people and especially not Dana. Yet here they were, sitting in Dr. Fields office listening to him offer up dates and times for the athlete to come back and get a variety of scans. And for what precisely?
That was a little more difficult to determine. As far as Alice could tell they were meant to provide an exact idea of just how well Dana's chemotherapy was working in terms of halting the progressing cancer. It was at times like these that the blonde wished she was more savvy when it came to medicine. But she had never liked hospitals.
Then again, did anyone like hospitals? Even the people who worked in them? They weren't exactly conducive to strong feelings of enjoyment, not with everything that went on inside of their walls. But what Alice did like was what they did. She liked that they saved people, that their job was to bring people back to health, and to help them not only survive but thrive.
She liked that this hospital and its staff were working to save Dana.
Having this type of job had to wear on a person. Getting attached to your patients like they were a part of your family and watching as they struggled had to hurt. At the same time, how good must it surely feel when you watched them go home healthy again?
Alice tried to be gentle with Dana, she had since the moment they met because there was something in the tennis player she instinctively saw as fragile. From the start, her first impulse was to protect Dana but not in the way the athlete had done. By keeping her sexuality locked away in the closet and hiding all real chances for happiness behind the door of secrecy.
What Alice wanted to protect Dana from were all those ignorant insults, all the pain and fear that continued to keep her in the closet. She wanted to protect Dana from everything that made her afraid to be who she was. Afraid to find happiness and to keep it with her always.
Though to be truly effective you couldn't be too gentle, if that made any sense. As much as Alice loved Dana, she could easily admit the tennis player had a propensity to fall into the annoying and groggy mire that was self pity. If you were gentle across the board when dealing with Dana you would never be able to get her to cop to the habit she had of simply giving up when she was confronted with possibly unpleasant outcomes.
When it came to the cancer treatment, Alice understood that habit all too well because it was one she now shared. She didn't want to think about why Dana needed all of these scans, she didn't want to think about why Shane was coming over tomorrow to shave the athlete's head and prepare the latest makeover, and she especially didn't want to think about why Dana sometimes fell asleep during kissing sessions that would have surely led making love.
Somehow that was what made this disease so horrible to Alice, the fact that it was making her ignore things, push them away and pretend as if they weren't happening. Before she would've never done something like that. She would've confronted the problem out in the open and dealt with it as quickly as possible. Suddenly talking wasn't an option because talking about the cancer meant acknowledging all the aspects of it. Everything that could happen because Dana was sick and Alice didn't want to think, much less talk about, the idea of Dana dying.
Especially to Dana herself.
Maybe that was their problem though, maybe by being scared of that possibility they were giving it power, maybe if they talked about it they could show they weren't scared of it happening and then it wouldn't happen. God, that was ridiculous, wasn't it? Thinking that way. More and more Alice found herself clinging to ridiculous ideas and theories and she sort of felt like Lara when she would come over with the latest vegetarian meal that was supposed to cleanse the body and bring up white cell counts.
The way that the tennis player looked perpetually ready to whap Lara in the back of the head told Alice that perhaps it was good they had broken up when they did. As much as the blonde was grateful to her for everything she had done, for standing by Dana in truly hard times, Alice could see in how she winced and was uncomfortable during the athlete's brief moments of anger and ire that she wouldn't have dealt well with this situation. Lara was simply too sweet and sensitive to deal with the ugly things in life. Things like this cancer.
Being cruel to be kind wasn't something the chef could ever grasp and honestly, it wasn't something that she should really have to… at least, in the most ideal version of the world. The world wasn’t ideal though, that was the terrible truth of it.
A truth that Alice could hardly deny as she watched Dr. Fields rattle off a list of drugs as he jotted down prescriptions in his always harried and messy handwriting. Things that Dana could take to help her deal with her ongoing case of nausea and the constant feeling of fatigue. What was it she had said on her radio show? Ah yes, medicating your medication. Alice wondered if that was how Dana felt because of all the drugs she was on.
She was tired of this, Alice knew that much. Reaching for the tennis player's hand, entwining their fingers, and squeezing her hand gently, Alice could see that plain as day when Dana looked at her. Blue eyes that had once been so bright and energetic, filled with the joy of living were worn down and exhausted. But Alice couldn't let that go on, she couldn't let Dana become tired of fighting because if that happened then how could she hope to win?
To win you have to fight and to fight you can't stay tired, not in your heart, not in your spirit, and not in the ways that truly mattered. This was particularly important in a fight such as this, one that involved life vs. death.
---
Family wasn't a concept that came naturally to Shane McCutcheon.
What was a family defined as anyway? Traditionally, most would say a family is a mother, father, and their child. And Shane did meet all of those requirements. She had a mother and a father and she was their child. But she had never actually met her father. The little Shane knew of him came only from those scarce moments of quiet drunken reflection where her mother would wistfully speak of things long past.
Unlike her father, Shane's mother was there for her but it was in the physical sense. Never mentally and certainly never emotionally. Mother was the person who gave birth to her. Nothing more and nothing less. They lived together for years but managed to successfully remain strangers from a simple lack of effort. No attempts to speak and especially no attempts to listen. Instead they merely existed in the same one bedroom apartment.
It wasn't like Shane wanted it that way. She could recall being in elementary school and preparing a homemade card and gift for Mother's Day. At the caring urge of her teacher, one by one her classmates would read their cards out loud to receive applause, praise, and a chocolate chip cookie. Listening to card after card and classmate after classmate speak on the love they felt for their mother, Shane felt lost.
More than that, she felt broken. Utterly and completely broken. How was it that her friends could understand so well what it is they felt and she couldn't? And how could they could speak on the things about their mother that created their love for her while Shane didn't have the slightest idea? But most of all, whose fault was that? Her mother's or her own?
Though she didn't want to blame herself Shane somehow couldn't think it was her mother's fault. But maybe it wasn't really her own fault either. At least, on purpose. Maybe she was just broken, you know? Something in her didn't work correctly and that's why she couldn't explain why she loved her mother using charming anecdotes like all her classmates could.
When her mother left, that thought remained bouncing around in Shane's unconscious. That she had some untreatable emotional disease that left her helpless to understand why she felt the way she did. And so Shane decided to not think on it. She felt however she felt and that was it. There was no rhyme or reason behind it and keep it simple became her creed.
Because trying to figure out emotions wasn't simple. It was hard and it was tiring and it was painful and Shane was sick of all of those things. So very sick of the struggle to understand why she didn't feel good about herself. Why she didn't think she was really worthy of love. It was easier to pretend she had a creed and a code she wanted to follow at all costs. A way of life that just couldn't be changed because she wanted it that way. Or at least that's what she told herself and that's what she tried to tell others.
Then she met Alice and like so many before her, Shane was sucked in by the blonde's whirlwind of humor, sweetness, and honest to god caring. Suddenly she found herself as part of a family. Not the traditional sort that the fundamentalists claimed were the foundation of all good and decent society but a mismatched ramshackle do it yourself version of a family. One where love was what held them together, not blood and obligation. They were there for each other because that was what they wanted and that made them so much stronger.
And now they needed that strength more than ever.
No one spoke the words but the same thought was constantly running through their minds. What if they lost Dana? How would they deal? What would happen to them? Would they remain close or would they crumble apart? And most of all, could they help Alice get through? Really and truly get through. Stay with her when things got desperate and horrible and dark as the damned gates of hell. Not abandon her when things got tough and they were weary and frustrated and lost as to how they could help her. Shane wanted to believe they could help Alice but she found herself doubting. Because didn't they already abandon her once?
Yes, they surely did. Sometimes Shane hated herself for it and she was sure the others did too. But as horrible as she felt about her treatment of Alice during those trying times this wasn't about the journalist. This was about Dana and the possibility that they might lose her.
Why Dana?
Over and over, that thought appeared when she found out about the cancer. It was a stupid thought really because it was such a terribly cliché one. Everyone thought that during times like these and honestly, there was no answer. There was no why when it came to contracting this disease. Oh sure, there were medical reasons and theories and studies but they weren't the why people were truly asking about when they said those words in their head.
The why they were asking about is the one that wanted to know about that invisible mark placed on a person. Why were they chosen out of billions of people to have this disease? Why were they picked for suffering? Why were they the one being punished by having their name written on the chalkboard of death in big block letters?
Why would play on a constant loop in their minds and it would drive them nearly insane because it couldn't stop without either an answer or the desire to simply let the question go. To accept that sometimes there weren't explanations to things in life. Even things that are the most significant and painfully cruel to us. Things like disease and death.
Shane finally managed to get rid of the why and understand the reason it had stayed with her for so long. It was simply because Dana was a part of her family and being part of a family was still precious to Shane. People who didn't judge, people who loved her unconditionally, people who listened, and people who were there whenever she went looking for them. Though she was often told she had an old spirit, Shane felt like a child when it came to the concept of family since it remained so very new to her.
It was the child in her that kept saying why. Stomping their feet in anger, shaking their head in tearful denial, and crying their tears of frustrated helplessness. All as they screamed why. Why did Dana get this disease? Why couldn't they magically cure her? Why were they taking away her friend? Why did everyone she love leave?
Late one night, a little past two a.m. Carmen accidentally elbowed Shane in her ribs and caused them to come into drowsy consciousness and Shane told Carmen about the dream she just had. A dream she had many times before but it changed a little this time around.
She was a little girl, just twelve years old, dressed in her favorite pair of Converse sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt as she stood in the street of her old neighborhood. Everywhere she looked the buildings were empty and no one was home. Then suddenly she could see her mother walking towards her in the distance. Seeing her immediately took away the sense of desolation and loneliness and Shane would run towards her. Running and running while she called out to her mother who didn't react but continued to steadily walk her way. And when Shane finally reached her, panting and out of breath, she kept walking. Shocked by this, Shane would turn and call to her but there was no reaction. Not even when she ran after her mother and pulled on her arm, tugging at her, pleading with her, crying at her, screaming at her, doing anything she could to get her attention. But nothing worked. Shane's mother continued walking until her daughter's grip on her became limp and listless, falling from her as Shane collapsed to the ground, crying softly as she watched her continue to walk away.
This time it wasn't her mother though. It was Dana and unlike her mother, when she was almost out of sight, the athlete turned back to look at Shane one last time. And her expression was one of acute sorrow and regret. As if she was trying to tell Shane she didn't have a choice in the trip she was making because some otherworldly force was driving her on.
Shane never wanted to have that dream again.
And she didn't want to think about Dana not having a choice, she didn't want to think about the possibility of her dying, she didn't want to think about the why that had echoed in her head. What Shane wanted to do was to focus on what really mattered in all of this. Helping Dana and helping Dana to become healthy. The why was a trap, Shane realized that now. Thinking about it sucked you into a quagmire of powerless depression and how that could ever help Dana she couldn't begin to know.
But being cheerful and silly and sometimes stupid? Making Dana laugh and smile and just happy to be alive? As cheesy as it sounded, that was the best medicine for Dana in Shane's opinion. Well, it was the best after having Alice and her love.
This belief was the current cause of Shane lifting an eyebrow and playfully smirking while she turned on her electric clipper with a whirr. "Remember, Dane, that Al has admitted to having a shameful Trekkie attraction to Lieutenant Ilia from Star Trek: The Motion Picture," said Shane in a rumble as she brought the clipper down to shave the back section of Dana's head. "And that's after she gets all robotic kidnapped and alien pod peopled."
"She better not want me to start talking in a monotone," said Dana in dry tones, releasing a humorous scoff. "Because no matter how many Republican fundraisers I've forcibly attended I never managed to pick up that trick."
"Would you wear the super clingy white jumpsuit with Seventies style futuristic flared collar?" asked Shane mischievously, curious about how far Dana's love for Alice would take her in their on and off roleplaying antics. "That's hot."
"Thank you, Paris Hilton, for that fine fashion commentary," Dana drawled sardonically. "And no, I would not wear that outfit. It's creepy looking and I think it also looks itchy."
"How can something look itchy?" pondered Shane, moving to shave the left side of Dana's scalp. "Pepper smells itchy but I don't know how something can look itchy."
"Okay, when was the movie released?" asked Dana significantly. When Shane stared blankly back at her through the mirror she sighed and rolled her eyes. "It was released in 1979 and what was big back then? Polyester! That super clingy white jumpsuit you're so fond of was probably made of polyester and therefore had to be extremely itchy."
"Polyester does look itchy," Shane admitted, tilting her head as she moved the clipper forward in a smooth motion. "No way can it look as itchy as it feels though. That's impossible."
"True," said Dana, looking as if she was contemplating this. They were quiet for several moments with the only sound being the whirr of Shane's clippers as she began shaving the top of the tennis player's head. Then Dana said, in a hushed and uncertain voice that her friend hadn't heard for quite some time, "I'm getting a mastectomy. Today I got a call from Dr. Fields and he asked me if I could come into his office. Those scans I took? They revealed that the cancer has spread to my lymph nodes. He tried to talk to me about other breast conserving treatments that I could try but I said I wanted the mastectomy. I just want this over with Shane. I want it over and I want this fucking disease gone and out of me so I can get back to really living my life with Alice and the rest of you."
Holding the clippers aloft and looking at Dana through the mirror, her eyes so very round and wide, Shane found herself at a loss and could only whisper, "Dane…"
"It's retarded but I'm worried what's going to happen with Alice. I mean, I know Al loves me," Dana said this quickly, her voice rising in pitch and in speed and she seemed almost desperate to reinforce this fact to Shane. "And I know she'll support me when it comes to getting this operation but what happens when I go home?" Looking down at her body that was so thin and frail and completely muted of color and life and energy, Dana released a hysterical laugh and scoffed, "I'm not exactly a supermodel now but Al tells me I'm beautiful and we still…" Trailing off and reddening despite herself, Dana shook her head in frustration and said bitterly, "I don't get how she can be like that now, you know? I wouldn’t want to have sex with me if I was her. But there's no way she can feel that way after they--" The athlete stopped abruptly, unable to think much less say what would soon be done to her body. "It doesn't matter though, right Shane?" Dana twisted in her seat and looked back at the hair stylist, desperate for whatever meager reassurance she might get. "All that matters is me getting well and staying alive and healthy and living my life with Alice and everyone I love. And who cares if my breast gets chopped off? It was never that big and I was never that girly in the first place."
Setting her clippers down on the dressing table, Shane gently grasped Dana's shoulders, trying her best to ignore how very fragile the other woman felt, and met their eyes in an open and unflinching gaze. "Don't say that," she uttered soft but strong and fierce in her conviction. "It matters, Dane. If it fucking hurts you this bad it matters. I can't tell you what to feel or what to focus on but I can tell you that Alice loves you. She loves you enough that she went pretty much crazy when she wasn't with you. And even though we both know that wasn't a good thing for anybody, especially you and Al, we do know it shows that love she has." At these words Dana flinched and looked away. Shane's hand glided down and she was hyper aware of the movement and pressure of her hand. The hair stylist had personal experience in witnessing how easily Dana tended to bruise and this made her all the more careful in her actions while in the tennis player's company. With this foremost in her mind, Shane was especially tender as she held the athlete's chin in her hand and lifted it up to meet their eyes once again. "Alice loves you and wants you more than anyone, Dana. Nothing is going to change that."
"I know that," said Dana in a hush, her voice so quiet that Shane had to strain to hear her. Dropping her gaze to stare at her hands neatly folded in her lap, Dana swallowed hard then looked up at Shane and said, "But who is she going to love and want? The pale, skinny, sickly, missing one breast Dana who is stuck in front of her or the tanned, muscled, healthy, and whole woman that she sees whenever she closes her eyes?"
For that, Shane had no answer.
---
"I don't want to talk about me," Alice announced when Helena opened the door to her house and the blonde walked inside. "We haven't seen each other in three days and I want to know how things are going for you on the Beverly Hills 9021 oh no front as you've been avoiding that question effectively over the phone. How is the spoiled Steve in disguise as middle aged rebel Dylan treating my best friend lately?"
"Alice," said Helena with a fond laugh as she gathered the shorter woman up in a hug. "It's wonderful to see you in person, darling. I must admit that I was growing weary of only getting to hear your disembodied but dreadfully charming voice by way of contact. How are you?"
"Not talking about me," sing songed Alice playfully, rocking from side to side with Helena as they remained in a hug. "This is talk about Helena and Steve day. So lets get to talking."
"Things are progressing nicely," said Helena carefully. When it came to Alice she rarely guarded her thoughts and almost never hesitated in speaking them. Except when she didn't want to trouble the other woman. Which is something that was foremost in her mind because of Dana's health. Certainly the last thing the blonde needed was to hear about her own needling doubts because of Dylan's worrisome habit of becoming a tad standoffish when in the public eye. All the same, Helena was pleased with how things were going. After all, Dylan had been so very good with the children when they had gone out for lunch together. With this thought in her mind, Helena paused in her walk and turned to Alice wearing a shy smile. "Yesterday I was able to finally introduce her to the children."
"Yeah? How did that go? Nicely?" asked Alice in teasing tones. When Helena scowled slightly, the blonde laughed and lightly pushed on the British woman's shoulders, encouraging her to continue on her walk upstairs. "I'm sorry! But you're the one who used the term progressing nicely when I asked how things are going in your romantic life. Most people say stuff like that when talking about financial investments not the person they're getting down and dirty with."
"And who, may I ask, proclaimed that I was getting down and dirty with anyone? I don't remember saying such things," replied Helena dryly, standing to one side of the stairs and waiting for Alice to finish climbing them.
"You have freaky Tron memory, you know that?" declared Alice humorously, shaking her head as she grabbed Helena's hand and led her over to the couch. The blonde plopped down on the couch, her nose crinkling up as she frowned. She loathed Helena's couch. It was expensive and posh and pretty but it was fucking soft to the degree that anytime Alice sat on it she felt like she was sinking into the abyss or something similar. Maybe the bog? Who knows. But it was some name of a horrible horror movie that she was sinking into. Poking at a cushion and watching as it immediately bounced back, Alice muttered, "The foamy menace."
"I must say yet again, that plenty of people have furniture which is filled with foam in our society," said Helena, rolling her eyes and sitting across from Alice. "I haven't the slightest idea why you must fixate on my innocent sofa. Making it out to be some creature of evil due to its innards when it has countless brethren all over the world who are filled the same way."
"Your couch is closest," Alice said as she batted wide and entirely too innocent eyes. Then moments later, they narrowed and Alice tilted her head to one side, saying with a definite laugh in her voice, "Did you just use the word innards?"
"Innards is a valid word!" defended Helena rather huffily. "You're speaking of the inner workings of my sofa and what is inside something is often referred to as the innards."
"Yeah? And where is that, hillbilly Helena?" asked Alice, grinning largely and releasing a shriek when the British woman pounced and began tickling her sides. Collapsed in a fit of giggles, she said in between gasps of air, "I give, I give. Your couch isn't the menace, you are."
Helena wore a triumphant expression on hearing this and rested her head on Alice's shoulder. They remained silent for several moments the Helena peered up at the blonde, affection lacing her every word as she murmured, "You do realize you are the only person, besides the children, who can manage to inspire such moments of buffoonery?"
"I know," Alice drawled, sounding supremely proud of herself. So proud that the only thing which could stop her from showing that pride in a huge grin was the kiss she deposited on top of Helena's head. Of course, soon as the kiss was over the grin came right back. "And I just happen to think it should go in my top five kick ass accomplishments in life. Making the prune faced Ms. Peabody get herself a bad case of the buffoonery."
"Since when I am prune faced?" Helena asked in droll tones.
"When you drink prune juice?" offered Alice with an eyebrow waggle and silly grin. When Helena groaned at this, the blonde laughed and said, "Okay! It was lame. But not as lame as you not telling me how things are really going with Dylan. And please, for the love of whoever, don't say progressing nicely or some other form of that phrase as an answer."
There were so many ways to answer that question that Helena honestly had no idea how to reply. Which is precisely what she told Alice. Her friend contemplated this for a moment then said that maybe Helena should just tell her the first thing that popped into her head when she thought of Dylan and the time she spent with her.
"Thrilling? Powerful? Fucking frightening?" Helena released a wry burst of laughter at her last words. Sighing deeply, she looked at Alice with a lidded gaze. "All of the above." Closing her eyes, feeling as if she wouldn't be able to say this and look at the woman that she often wished she was falling in love with, Helena murmured, "Mostly it feels as if it's over too soon."
"I'm guessing that she still hasn't managed to tell Danny about you guys," said Alice softly, delicately combing her fingers through the British woman's curly hair. Helena didn't reply and merely gave a slight nod into the blonde who released a quiet noise of frustration and said, "Helena, you--" Stopping abruptly to snap her mouth shut, Alice closed her eyes briefly only to find Helena looking at her worriedly when she opened them. With a reassuring smile, she lightly touched the brunette's cheek and said, "I don't want to lecture again. Lecturing doesn't help you and I want to help my best friend. So," Alice said the word extravagantly, giving it a large and rather emphatic pop. "How do I help?"
"You help simply by existing, darling," murmured Helena, her blue eyes shining with such depth of sincerity that once again, Alice found herself wondering how anyone could doubt this woman's kindness. How they could manage to find suspicion in her most generous acts and rip apart what was meant to be a simple good work and turn into something sinister. "It helps so much to know I have a friend. And it eases my mind to also know that said friend isn't motivated by the contents of my pocketbook," Helena finished wryly.
"But I do like it when you buy me ice cream," noted Alice, a smile in her voice and she now began braiding Helena's hair without the other woman's knowledge. "Triple chocolate mocha chip with marshmallows. Plus whipped cream and a cherry."
"You like it when anyone buys you ice cream," said Helena sardonically, frowning slightly as she felt Alice's hands at work and hoping that the blonde wasn't braiding her hair yet again. "I am not foolish enough to believe I am special in that respect."
"Yeah, but ice cream bought by you is the best because you're my best friend and THAT," Alice boomed the word loudly and dropped her hands down to lightly tickle Helena in the sides. "Is what makes it extra special." Allowing the brunette to bat her hands away, Alice returned to her covert task of hair braiding. "And don't you even try to argue over this."
"I debate but never argue," said Helena primly. Tilting her head back, she sighed on seeing that Alice was indeed braiding her hair once again. Deciding she would allow it because it seemed to give the blonde an odd amount of pleasure, Helena continued, "Mother abhors arguments but she loves a good debate. Or that is what she claims in mixed company."
"And since she debates that's what you have to do too," finished Alice in knowing tones. Moving onto another section of hair to begin braiding it, she asked absently, "Has Dylan had the soul draining experience of meeting Dame Peabody yet?"
"Darling!" exclaimed Helena as she gave an exuberant laugh and whapped Alice's leg. "I do wish you wouldn't say such things. It makes me believe that meeting my mother actually has traumatized you in some dreadful manner."
"Meeting her? No," drawled Alice, tilting her head and pausing to consider if this braid should be smaller or larger than its counterparts. "But continuing to meet her over and over again in a social setting where she's supposed to be at least decent to you since there are other people around but she just acts like a huge fucking shrew and I want to punch her? Yeah, I think that's getting a wee on the traumatizing side. Only because I suck at repressing my urge to punch."
"It does become tiring," said Helena, allowing a subtle verbal admission that she had also contemplated punching her mother. Sitting silently for quite some time, Helena was soothed by the gentle movement of Alice's hands in her hair, busily braiding away and though she knew it would take upwards of an hour to remove the braids the brunette was happy to do it. Perhaps because they were proof that Alice was here, that she wasn't some figment of Helena's imagination. That after years of wishing and longing she finally had a person that truly cared for her and only her. Not for her family name and not for her money and not for any other myriad of reasons. God, was it such a relief to have that at least. "I'm afraid to introduce her to mother," she murmured the words before she even knew what she was saying. Alice's hands stilled in her hair, falling down to her hips to hold her lightly. Sinking back into the journalist with a sigh, Helena looked up at the other woman and locked their eyes. "The women I date who have no knowledge of my family history often experience difficulties when meeting my mother for the first time. In fact, they rarely choose to remain in my life after that meeting," Helena confessed in self deprecating tones as she formed a smile to match. "My charms are never enough and so they always leave." Closing her eyes, Helena tried to keep her voice from wavering but failed as she said, "I would like to keep Dylan with me for a bit longer."
There was a tender kiss to the back of her head and then Alice's chin was resting comfortably on her shoulder, almost as if that was where it always belonged. Warm breath tickled Helena's skin and then Alice said soft and almost sadly, "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
Since the day they truly met, which was the day they had started their friendship, both Alice and Helena made an unspoken promise to never lie to one another. To always tell the truth, whether it be kind or harsh, in order to provide the best of help. And that was why Helena paused. Because she couldn't lie to Alice but at the same time she didn't want to tell the truth either. She knew the reality of what she felt for Dylan and she knew it was going to hurt her in the end. But some strange part of her felt that maybe if she didn't say the words it would somehow hurt less. That if she didn't verbalize the fact that she was falling for Dylan then maybe it would be easier to remove it from her memory when it was over.
What if it isn't over? What if it never becomes over? That's what Alice would say to her if she confessed these thoughts. She would say that and a thousand other lovely and comforting things that would make Helena feel better but wouldn't take away her fears. But despite the fears she couldn't end things with Dylan and she couldn't manage to put that wall back up between them. The filmmaker had destroyed it so thoroughly that Helena wondered if she could ever bring it back up again. And that was what scared her most of all.
The thought of staying this exposed and vulnerable for the rest of her life. It was enough to give her the shivers and leave her utterly cold, both inside and out.
Her body must have reflected these thoughts because Alice was rubbing her arms now, her touch soothing and warm and deliciously comforting. Another kiss to her head as the blonde murmured in her ear, "It's okay, sweetie. I understand."
"I know you do," whispered Helena, sinking into Alice's arms. Looking up and meeting their eyes, she was struck by the gentle care she saw there. But then, Alice was always like that with her. Oh yes, she could be loud and boisterous and silly but when it came right down to it she was so very careful with Helena's feelings and that was why the British woman adored her. She found it was easy for people to pretend to love but to pretend to care? Really and truly? As she saw in Alice now? That was almost impossible. Deciding that they simply had to lighten this suddenly oppressive mood, Helena's mind wandered to the theme song of a certain television show she had been forced to watch at the early morning hours by Alice. Which is why she lightly sang out, "Thank you for being a friend."
"Golden Girls!" Alice squealed in utmost pleasure, squeezing Helena's waist and rocking her to and fro in a hug. "I totally want to sing this with you." When Helena groaned loudly at this, Alice wheedled in her ear, "Come on, Helena. You have to sing this with me. You're the one who started it."
"Very well," said Helena, her voice reflecting the fact that she was rolling her eyes. All the same, there was very little she could deny Alice and so she was soon singing, "Traveled down the road and back again."
"Your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidant," sang Alice happily, picking up the next lyric. Nudging Helena, she rested her chin on the British woman's shoulder and said, "Lets sing the last part of the song together, all right?"
Nodding in agreement, Helena found herself peering back at Alice and matching her bright smile as they sang together, "And if you threw a party, invited everyone you knew. You would see the biggest gift would be from me. And the card attached would say…" Pausing together, they had a strange moment of complete mental synchronicity and boomed the ending lyric loudly and joyfully, "Thank you for being a friend!"
Although this impromptu musical number caused them to burst into a fit of laughter, both Alice and Helena felt they had managed to find their theme song. Cheesy as it might be.
---
Most women say that they won't miss their period when its gone and most lesbians say they don't understand why they have a period in the first place. At least the ones who don't have aspirations of bearing children say that. And while Dana did love children, she didn't have any desire to be a parent. When you put that on top of being a life long athlete, you could definitely count her among the women who said they wouldn't miss their period.
But now her period was gone and Dana missed it.
Chemotherapy was responsible for her condition. What was its name again? She knew the name, she had done the stupid word association game that Howie had been teaching her. The one he insisted would help to keep her mind sharp. Dana wasn't sure why exactly her mind needed to stay all that sharp in the first place. It wasn't like she was a rocket scientist. She hit a ball and ran after it for a living. Or that's what she used to do anyway.
Amen Norris, hell yeah!
Oh yeah, amenorrhea, that was it. Why did conditions and diseases and symptoms have horrible names like that? Was it because they never meant any good and the names reflected that? Dana had no idea but she was starting to grasp why she was missing her period.
It was the same reason she was going to miss her breast after the mastectomy. Having a period made Dana feel like a woman. Though this feat was accomplished on a smaller and admittedly more gross level when it came to her bodily functions. But all the same, it made her feel like a woman and because of this disease and its treatment, it was gone.
Only the treatment wasn't good enough somehow. The work it was doing wasn't meeting its full potential, as her old coach would say, and now she had to get a mastectomy. Of course, that was a tiny lie. She didn't have to get it. Certainly she could refuse and attempt the other treatments Dr. Fields tried to suggest but it was true what she told Shane.
She wanted it over and done with.
The sooner she was free of this cancer then the sooner she could truly begin to live her life with Alice. Then she could move her focus onto returning her body to its previous shape so her outside once again matched her inside. Because having that athletic body was such a huge part of how Dana saw herself. She was a competitor, someone who used their body to prove their mind. Not just their mind but their worth as a person. Dana had never been terribly clever and she never had the patience to try extra hard at school. She did enough to pass and to make her parents proud and to keep her on the school tennis team.
Where she really came alive was on the tennis court. For what seemed like endless years, that was the one place Dana felt confident to be herself. When she was playing on the court no one could judge her and any flaws they found could be fixed with hard work and training. Whatever was wrong with her on the court was something Dana could control. But that endless list of personal imperfections off the court? Things she couldn't think of much less say while in the presence of her parents? They had no solution and were only a source of torment.
And so, Dana began hating herself when she wasn't playing tennis. Something that got worse after Stephanie was ripped from her life first at her parents hands and then by her own choice. But then she met Alice and she found her friends and slowly but surely she began to love and trust once again. The road was long and tiring to travel but eventually Dana started to feel as confident off the court as she did on. Alice did that for her, first in their friendship and then in their romance. And that was how Dana knew she would always be in love with her.
Nobody made her feel like Alice.
Feel completely loved, completely understood, completely desired, and completely accepted. There wasn't a piece of her that Alice didn't know about, no matter how small and how dirty and how sad, Alice knew about it and she loved her anyway. She fucking loved all of the pieces that made Dana who she was. The day Dana finally realized that, she was the happiest she had ever been. At least, until Alice induced an Earth shattering orgasm a few hours later.
Alice knew her completely but that was when she was well and the sad thing was, no matter how much anyone wanted to deny it, Dana wasn't the same person anymore. Cancer had changed her, inside and out, and that ever present pessimistic voice in her brain kept asking how much change could Alice take? How much change before she noticed the Dana she loved was slowly disappearing? And why in the hell did things like chemotherapy and her upcoming mastectomy have to give it a face? Why did her body have to change with her spirit?
How much longer until there was nothing left? When all traces of her disappeared, leaving behind an empty shell of a person? How much longer until she ceased being herself and became this strange and frightening alien creature? Someone her friends and family knew they should care for but didn't know precisely why. Perhaps because it was expected.
Twenty minutes and counting.
That was length of time Dana had been standing naked in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom. Staring at herself from every possible angle, squinting her eyes, opening them wide, kneeling, bending over. Dana looked at herself in the mirror, desperate for some sign of recognition. Something familiar from the days not so long ago when she was healthy. A muscle that hadn't weakened or a tan line that had survived.
But nothing was there, it had all but disappeared and her body was left to look bare and hungry and desperate. She could see her ribs without even trying. They jutted outwards, like some defiant proof of her illness. Almost worse than the hair that was missing. Because people lose their hair, it's a natural part of life, but people don't naturally look like skeletons.
And that's what she looked like. A fucking skeleton. Some Halloween nightmare come to life and pressing her hand over her right breast, Dana wondered how Alice could love her when she was like this. She was a ghost of who she had been and the blonde surely had to be in love with the memory of her and not the actual person. Because the actual person was disappearing and Dana wasn't sure when or if she would ever return.
Maybe if she stood here long enough she could get used to it. Become somehow immune to the sight of her body wasting away, turning her into someone else against her will. If she just looked at herself unflinching and honest and brutal then she could be able to convince Alice it wasn't bothering her that much. That she didn't care about her body being transformed against her own will, that it didn't upset her to see a lifetime of work and training evaporating like the morning dew on blades of grass. So Dana stood and she stared.
Which was how Alice found her when she arrived at the condo fifteen minutes later. Standing and staring, naked and vulnerable, raw and painfully real. That was the portrait of Dana Fairbanks which greeted her.
Hesitant in her approach, Alice lightly touched the small of Dana's back and murmured, "Are you all right, baby?" At the sound of Alice's voice, Dana turned her head and stared at her with blank eyes. Swallowing deeply, the blonde ran her hands up and down the athlete's arms in an attempt to warm her up. "Why are you standing here like this? You'll catch cold."
Wearing a face of concern, Alice retrieved the blanket at the foot of the bed while Dana remained in front of the mirror. Staring at her reflection with nothing left to recognize, the athlete said in a stark whisper, "What do you see?"
"What, Dane?" asked Alice distractedly, draping the blanket over the tennis player's thin shoulders and once again trying to warm the other woman up. Rubbing her hands up and down Dana's arms, swift but gentle, she said, "What did you say? I couldn't hear you."
Grasping Alice's hands in her own, stilling their movement, Dana met their eyes and said, "What do you see when you look at me? Because I don't know anymore, Al. I look in the mirror and I know it's me but I don't recognize the person I'm looking at."
"Dana," Alice said her name in a whisper. Shaking her hands out of Dana's hold, she lifted them up to stroke the athlete's cheek gentle and loving. "I see you." Rising up on her tiptoes, resting their foreheads together, Alice said in a forceful murmur, "I see you."
"But I don't even look like me anymore," said Dana brokenly, sinking into Alice's arms and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Burying her face in the crook of the blonde's neck, she squeezed her eyes shut and before she realized it, the words began spilling from her mouth fast and tearful. "The more treatment I get the more I don't look like myself and it's like I'm not even the person you fell in love with anymore. I keep changing and I don't want to change, Al! But there's nothing I can do to stop it and it's only going to get worse."
Feeling entirely uneasy and startled by what she just heard, Alice said carefully, "What do you mean it's only going to get worse?" No answer came and the blonde pulled away from Dana to clasp her shoulders and duck her head down to meet their eyes. "Dana," she began, her voice warm and comforting but laced with an undeniable strength. "What did you mean when you said it's only going to get worse?"
"Dr. Fields called today," said Dana hoarsely, shaking free of Alice's hold and wrapping the blanket around her body to cover it from view. She couldn't tell Alice about this and let her look at her at the same time. It would be yet another reminder of how she was changing because of this disease, and not for the better. "The scans he took, they showed that the cancer has spread to my lymph nodes. I told him I wanted a mastectomy."
"When?" asked Alice thickly, sounding heavy with resignation.
"Next week? I don't know," Dana replied, wrapping the blanket around herself all the more tightly. She felt certain Alice's lack of response had proven her point. That this disease was changing her too much, enough that Alice couldn't recognize the person she fell in love with anymore. And that she didn't really want Dana but she couldn't leave her. Not in a situation like this. It was all right though. Cancer ridden or not, Dana was very much capable of leaving. Whether it be a room, relationship, or even this life. She could leave it. In fact, that was probably all she could do at this point. "It's okay, Al," said Dana quietly, taking a step towards the window to stare out at the setting sun. "I understand and it's okay. I don't blame you."
"Blame me for what?" asked Alice almost sharply, her brow furrowing in confusion. When she received no reply she turned the athlete around, noting absently the look of surprise on Dana's face as she halfway growled, "What do you understand?" Instead of replying, the tennis player looked at her blankly and this seemed to frustrate Alice even more. Shaking the brunette, she demanded, "What do you understand, Dana? And what don't you blame me for?"
"I understand why you wouldn't want me after the operation," Dana whispered, regretting the words the moment they left her mouth because of the reaction they caused. Alice paled and turned a sickly color, backing away from the athlete as she looked lost and confused. Then her head lifted and brown eyes met blue and Dana knew she would never forget the anger she saw there. But it was more than anger, it was betrayal as well. The tennis player could see the hurt in Alice and with that, she knew the thoughts she had been having were wrong. They were wrong about her becoming this foreign and disgusting creature, with all shreds of who she was disappearing. Wrong about her turning into something other than the woman Alice loved. They were all wrong because those thoughts were her own and had nothing to do with the journalist. Dana had pushed those thoughts and feelings onto Alice in some attempt to what? Protect herself from possible rejection later? But Alice would never reject her… at least, before now she wouldn't. "Alice," she said her name in a sob, reaching out to the blonde with desperate and seeking hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm just so scared and I don't know who I am anymore. It's like the cancer is changing me inside and out and I can't stop it."
"Dana," Alice uttered her name like a prayer, rushing forward to wrap the tennis player in an loving embrace. Pulling away to hold the Dana's face in her hands, she wiped the tears away with the pads of her thumbs. "This disease can't really change you unless you let it. And the changes that you do let happen? They don't have to be bad ones," she flashed a warm and reassuring smile before pressing her lips to Dana's for a soft kiss. Resting cheek to cheek, Alice nuzzled the athlete's neck and they rocked back and forth in each other's arms. Then her voice was quiet and pleading in Dana's ear, "But don't ever think I wouldn't want you. Never think that. Because sometimes I think you're the only worthwhile thing I've ever wanted."
Hushed whispers of love were all that remained. Then came the quiet whoosh of a blanket pushed aside and the thump of clothes hastily removed. Mouths that moaned and whimpered as they met hot and hungry and seeking. Hands that were frantic but gentle and tender and echoing with adoration in the way they traced of every harsh line. Caressing the ribs that painfully jutted out and kissing the bruised skin now laid bare as Alice lowered Dana carefully on the bed, climbing over her slow and sleek like a cat after its prey.
Alice kissed her long and hard and detailed. Wanting to have everything there was to taste of Dana before she slid down to take the nipple of her right breast into her mouth. Sucking on it softly and nuzzling the skin while her fingers played out over the tennis player's body, learning the changes and taking them in. Showing Dana with every stroke that she saw the differences and she not only accepted them but she loved them because they were a part of the athlete.
It was like being worshipped, Dana realized, trembling and shaking and trying to hold off on her third orgasm as Alice sucked hard then soft on her clit. There wasn't a part of her body that the blonde hadn't kissed, caressed, or simply loved and it was like being worshipped because Dana had never felt this perfect before. How could there be anything wrong with her inside or out when Alice could treat her this way? Touch her this way? Tender but passionate and so fucking eager, as if she could never get enough of the athlete. As if she was trying to use this time to somehow get her fill only to realize that it just wasn't possible. So she was now in a frenzy, trying desperately to get as much as she was able.
Seconds that turned into minutes that turned into hours. That was how long they made love. The unwelcome end arriving at the onset of exhaustion, collapsing into each other in a tangle of limbs and shallow breathing. Their bodies aching and their minds dazed, they were lost in a kaleidoscope of feeling, both physical and emotional. Unable to truly comprehend everything that had just happened between them but knowing one thing absolutely.
The love they had for each other could never disappear. No matter what happened, it would always go on because love doesn't need a body to exist. It just needs a soul.
To be continued...
People weren't meant to get scanned. Documents, photographs, information, those were things that should get scanned. Not people and especially not Dana. Yet here they were, sitting in Dr. Fields office listening to him offer up dates and times for the athlete to come back and get a variety of scans. And for what precisely?
That was a little more difficult to determine. As far as Alice could tell they were meant to provide an exact idea of just how well Dana's chemotherapy was working in terms of halting the progressing cancer. It was at times like these that the blonde wished she was more savvy when it came to medicine. But she had never liked hospitals.
Then again, did anyone like hospitals? Even the people who worked in them? They weren't exactly conducive to strong feelings of enjoyment, not with everything that went on inside of their walls. But what Alice did like was what they did. She liked that they saved people, that their job was to bring people back to health, and to help them not only survive but thrive.
She liked that this hospital and its staff were working to save Dana.
Having this type of job had to wear on a person. Getting attached to your patients like they were a part of your family and watching as they struggled had to hurt. At the same time, how good must it surely feel when you watched them go home healthy again?
Alice tried to be gentle with Dana, she had since the moment they met because there was something in the tennis player she instinctively saw as fragile. From the start, her first impulse was to protect Dana but not in the way the athlete had done. By keeping her sexuality locked away in the closet and hiding all real chances for happiness behind the door of secrecy.
What Alice wanted to protect Dana from were all those ignorant insults, all the pain and fear that continued to keep her in the closet. She wanted to protect Dana from everything that made her afraid to be who she was. Afraid to find happiness and to keep it with her always.
Though to be truly effective you couldn't be too gentle, if that made any sense. As much as Alice loved Dana, she could easily admit the tennis player had a propensity to fall into the annoying and groggy mire that was self pity. If you were gentle across the board when dealing with Dana you would never be able to get her to cop to the habit she had of simply giving up when she was confronted with possibly unpleasant outcomes.
When it came to the cancer treatment, Alice understood that habit all too well because it was one she now shared. She didn't want to think about why Dana needed all of these scans, she didn't want to think about why Shane was coming over tomorrow to shave the athlete's head and prepare the latest makeover, and she especially didn't want to think about why Dana sometimes fell asleep during kissing sessions that would have surely led making love.
Somehow that was what made this disease so horrible to Alice, the fact that it was making her ignore things, push them away and pretend as if they weren't happening. Before she would've never done something like that. She would've confronted the problem out in the open and dealt with it as quickly as possible. Suddenly talking wasn't an option because talking about the cancer meant acknowledging all the aspects of it. Everything that could happen because Dana was sick and Alice didn't want to think, much less talk about, the idea of Dana dying.
Especially to Dana herself.
Maybe that was their problem though, maybe by being scared of that possibility they were giving it power, maybe if they talked about it they could show they weren't scared of it happening and then it wouldn't happen. God, that was ridiculous, wasn't it? Thinking that way. More and more Alice found herself clinging to ridiculous ideas and theories and she sort of felt like Lara when she would come over with the latest vegetarian meal that was supposed to cleanse the body and bring up white cell counts.
The way that the tennis player looked perpetually ready to whap Lara in the back of the head told Alice that perhaps it was good they had broken up when they did. As much as the blonde was grateful to her for everything she had done, for standing by Dana in truly hard times, Alice could see in how she winced and was uncomfortable during the athlete's brief moments of anger and ire that she wouldn't have dealt well with this situation. Lara was simply too sweet and sensitive to deal with the ugly things in life. Things like this cancer.
Being cruel to be kind wasn't something the chef could ever grasp and honestly, it wasn't something that she should really have to… at least, in the most ideal version of the world. The world wasn’t ideal though, that was the terrible truth of it.
A truth that Alice could hardly deny as she watched Dr. Fields rattle off a list of drugs as he jotted down prescriptions in his always harried and messy handwriting. Things that Dana could take to help her deal with her ongoing case of nausea and the constant feeling of fatigue. What was it she had said on her radio show? Ah yes, medicating your medication. Alice wondered if that was how Dana felt because of all the drugs she was on.
She was tired of this, Alice knew that much. Reaching for the tennis player's hand, entwining their fingers, and squeezing her hand gently, Alice could see that plain as day when Dana looked at her. Blue eyes that had once been so bright and energetic, filled with the joy of living were worn down and exhausted. But Alice couldn't let that go on, she couldn't let Dana become tired of fighting because if that happened then how could she hope to win?
To win you have to fight and to fight you can't stay tired, not in your heart, not in your spirit, and not in the ways that truly mattered. This was particularly important in a fight such as this, one that involved life vs. death.
---
Family wasn't a concept that came naturally to Shane McCutcheon.
What was a family defined as anyway? Traditionally, most would say a family is a mother, father, and their child. And Shane did meet all of those requirements. She had a mother and a father and she was their child. But she had never actually met her father. The little Shane knew of him came only from those scarce moments of quiet drunken reflection where her mother would wistfully speak of things long past.
Unlike her father, Shane's mother was there for her but it was in the physical sense. Never mentally and certainly never emotionally. Mother was the person who gave birth to her. Nothing more and nothing less. They lived together for years but managed to successfully remain strangers from a simple lack of effort. No attempts to speak and especially no attempts to listen. Instead they merely existed in the same one bedroom apartment.
It wasn't like Shane wanted it that way. She could recall being in elementary school and preparing a homemade card and gift for Mother's Day. At the caring urge of her teacher, one by one her classmates would read their cards out loud to receive applause, praise, and a chocolate chip cookie. Listening to card after card and classmate after classmate speak on the love they felt for their mother, Shane felt lost.
More than that, she felt broken. Utterly and completely broken. How was it that her friends could understand so well what it is they felt and she couldn't? And how could they could speak on the things about their mother that created their love for her while Shane didn't have the slightest idea? But most of all, whose fault was that? Her mother's or her own?
Though she didn't want to blame herself Shane somehow couldn't think it was her mother's fault. But maybe it wasn't really her own fault either. At least, on purpose. Maybe she was just broken, you know? Something in her didn't work correctly and that's why she couldn't explain why she loved her mother using charming anecdotes like all her classmates could.
When her mother left, that thought remained bouncing around in Shane's unconscious. That she had some untreatable emotional disease that left her helpless to understand why she felt the way she did. And so Shane decided to not think on it. She felt however she felt and that was it. There was no rhyme or reason behind it and keep it simple became her creed.
Because trying to figure out emotions wasn't simple. It was hard and it was tiring and it was painful and Shane was sick of all of those things. So very sick of the struggle to understand why she didn't feel good about herself. Why she didn't think she was really worthy of love. It was easier to pretend she had a creed and a code she wanted to follow at all costs. A way of life that just couldn't be changed because she wanted it that way. Or at least that's what she told herself and that's what she tried to tell others.
Then she met Alice and like so many before her, Shane was sucked in by the blonde's whirlwind of humor, sweetness, and honest to god caring. Suddenly she found herself as part of a family. Not the traditional sort that the fundamentalists claimed were the foundation of all good and decent society but a mismatched ramshackle do it yourself version of a family. One where love was what held them together, not blood and obligation. They were there for each other because that was what they wanted and that made them so much stronger.
And now they needed that strength more than ever.
No one spoke the words but the same thought was constantly running through their minds. What if they lost Dana? How would they deal? What would happen to them? Would they remain close or would they crumble apart? And most of all, could they help Alice get through? Really and truly get through. Stay with her when things got desperate and horrible and dark as the damned gates of hell. Not abandon her when things got tough and they were weary and frustrated and lost as to how they could help her. Shane wanted to believe they could help Alice but she found herself doubting. Because didn't they already abandon her once?
Yes, they surely did. Sometimes Shane hated herself for it and she was sure the others did too. But as horrible as she felt about her treatment of Alice during those trying times this wasn't about the journalist. This was about Dana and the possibility that they might lose her.
Why Dana?
Over and over, that thought appeared when she found out about the cancer. It was a stupid thought really because it was such a terribly cliché one. Everyone thought that during times like these and honestly, there was no answer. There was no why when it came to contracting this disease. Oh sure, there were medical reasons and theories and studies but they weren't the why people were truly asking about when they said those words in their head.
The why they were asking about is the one that wanted to know about that invisible mark placed on a person. Why were they chosen out of billions of people to have this disease? Why were they picked for suffering? Why were they the one being punished by having their name written on the chalkboard of death in big block letters?
Why would play on a constant loop in their minds and it would drive them nearly insane because it couldn't stop without either an answer or the desire to simply let the question go. To accept that sometimes there weren't explanations to things in life. Even things that are the most significant and painfully cruel to us. Things like disease and death.
Shane finally managed to get rid of the why and understand the reason it had stayed with her for so long. It was simply because Dana was a part of her family and being part of a family was still precious to Shane. People who didn't judge, people who loved her unconditionally, people who listened, and people who were there whenever she went looking for them. Though she was often told she had an old spirit, Shane felt like a child when it came to the concept of family since it remained so very new to her.
It was the child in her that kept saying why. Stomping their feet in anger, shaking their head in tearful denial, and crying their tears of frustrated helplessness. All as they screamed why. Why did Dana get this disease? Why couldn't they magically cure her? Why were they taking away her friend? Why did everyone she love leave?
Late one night, a little past two a.m. Carmen accidentally elbowed Shane in her ribs and caused them to come into drowsy consciousness and Shane told Carmen about the dream she just had. A dream she had many times before but it changed a little this time around.
She was a little girl, just twelve years old, dressed in her favorite pair of Converse sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt as she stood in the street of her old neighborhood. Everywhere she looked the buildings were empty and no one was home. Then suddenly she could see her mother walking towards her in the distance. Seeing her immediately took away the sense of desolation and loneliness and Shane would run towards her. Running and running while she called out to her mother who didn't react but continued to steadily walk her way. And when Shane finally reached her, panting and out of breath, she kept walking. Shocked by this, Shane would turn and call to her but there was no reaction. Not even when she ran after her mother and pulled on her arm, tugging at her, pleading with her, crying at her, screaming at her, doing anything she could to get her attention. But nothing worked. Shane's mother continued walking until her daughter's grip on her became limp and listless, falling from her as Shane collapsed to the ground, crying softly as she watched her continue to walk away.
This time it wasn't her mother though. It was Dana and unlike her mother, when she was almost out of sight, the athlete turned back to look at Shane one last time. And her expression was one of acute sorrow and regret. As if she was trying to tell Shane she didn't have a choice in the trip she was making because some otherworldly force was driving her on.
Shane never wanted to have that dream again.
And she didn't want to think about Dana not having a choice, she didn't want to think about the possibility of her dying, she didn't want to think about the why that had echoed in her head. What Shane wanted to do was to focus on what really mattered in all of this. Helping Dana and helping Dana to become healthy. The why was a trap, Shane realized that now. Thinking about it sucked you into a quagmire of powerless depression and how that could ever help Dana she couldn't begin to know.
But being cheerful and silly and sometimes stupid? Making Dana laugh and smile and just happy to be alive? As cheesy as it sounded, that was the best medicine for Dana in Shane's opinion. Well, it was the best after having Alice and her love.
This belief was the current cause of Shane lifting an eyebrow and playfully smirking while she turned on her electric clipper with a whirr. "Remember, Dane, that Al has admitted to having a shameful Trekkie attraction to Lieutenant Ilia from Star Trek: The Motion Picture," said Shane in a rumble as she brought the clipper down to shave the back section of Dana's head. "And that's after she gets all robotic kidnapped and alien pod peopled."
"She better not want me to start talking in a monotone," said Dana in dry tones, releasing a humorous scoff. "Because no matter how many Republican fundraisers I've forcibly attended I never managed to pick up that trick."
"Would you wear the super clingy white jumpsuit with Seventies style futuristic flared collar?" asked Shane mischievously, curious about how far Dana's love for Alice would take her in their on and off roleplaying antics. "That's hot."
"Thank you, Paris Hilton, for that fine fashion commentary," Dana drawled sardonically. "And no, I would not wear that outfit. It's creepy looking and I think it also looks itchy."
"How can something look itchy?" pondered Shane, moving to shave the left side of Dana's scalp. "Pepper smells itchy but I don't know how something can look itchy."
"Okay, when was the movie released?" asked Dana significantly. When Shane stared blankly back at her through the mirror she sighed and rolled her eyes. "It was released in 1979 and what was big back then? Polyester! That super clingy white jumpsuit you're so fond of was probably made of polyester and therefore had to be extremely itchy."
"Polyester does look itchy," Shane admitted, tilting her head as she moved the clipper forward in a smooth motion. "No way can it look as itchy as it feels though. That's impossible."
"True," said Dana, looking as if she was contemplating this. They were quiet for several moments with the only sound being the whirr of Shane's clippers as she began shaving the top of the tennis player's head. Then Dana said, in a hushed and uncertain voice that her friend hadn't heard for quite some time, "I'm getting a mastectomy. Today I got a call from Dr. Fields and he asked me if I could come into his office. Those scans I took? They revealed that the cancer has spread to my lymph nodes. He tried to talk to me about other breast conserving treatments that I could try but I said I wanted the mastectomy. I just want this over with Shane. I want it over and I want this fucking disease gone and out of me so I can get back to really living my life with Alice and the rest of you."
Holding the clippers aloft and looking at Dana through the mirror, her eyes so very round and wide, Shane found herself at a loss and could only whisper, "Dane…"
"It's retarded but I'm worried what's going to happen with Alice. I mean, I know Al loves me," Dana said this quickly, her voice rising in pitch and in speed and she seemed almost desperate to reinforce this fact to Shane. "And I know she'll support me when it comes to getting this operation but what happens when I go home?" Looking down at her body that was so thin and frail and completely muted of color and life and energy, Dana released a hysterical laugh and scoffed, "I'm not exactly a supermodel now but Al tells me I'm beautiful and we still…" Trailing off and reddening despite herself, Dana shook her head in frustration and said bitterly, "I don't get how she can be like that now, you know? I wouldn’t want to have sex with me if I was her. But there's no way she can feel that way after they--" The athlete stopped abruptly, unable to think much less say what would soon be done to her body. "It doesn't matter though, right Shane?" Dana twisted in her seat and looked back at the hair stylist, desperate for whatever meager reassurance she might get. "All that matters is me getting well and staying alive and healthy and living my life with Alice and everyone I love. And who cares if my breast gets chopped off? It was never that big and I was never that girly in the first place."
Setting her clippers down on the dressing table, Shane gently grasped Dana's shoulders, trying her best to ignore how very fragile the other woman felt, and met their eyes in an open and unflinching gaze. "Don't say that," she uttered soft but strong and fierce in her conviction. "It matters, Dane. If it fucking hurts you this bad it matters. I can't tell you what to feel or what to focus on but I can tell you that Alice loves you. She loves you enough that she went pretty much crazy when she wasn't with you. And even though we both know that wasn't a good thing for anybody, especially you and Al, we do know it shows that love she has." At these words Dana flinched and looked away. Shane's hand glided down and she was hyper aware of the movement and pressure of her hand. The hair stylist had personal experience in witnessing how easily Dana tended to bruise and this made her all the more careful in her actions while in the tennis player's company. With this foremost in her mind, Shane was especially tender as she held the athlete's chin in her hand and lifted it up to meet their eyes once again. "Alice loves you and wants you more than anyone, Dana. Nothing is going to change that."
"I know that," said Dana in a hush, her voice so quiet that Shane had to strain to hear her. Dropping her gaze to stare at her hands neatly folded in her lap, Dana swallowed hard then looked up at Shane and said, "But who is she going to love and want? The pale, skinny, sickly, missing one breast Dana who is stuck in front of her or the tanned, muscled, healthy, and whole woman that she sees whenever she closes her eyes?"
For that, Shane had no answer.
---
"I don't want to talk about me," Alice announced when Helena opened the door to her house and the blonde walked inside. "We haven't seen each other in three days and I want to know how things are going for you on the Beverly Hills 9021 oh no front as you've been avoiding that question effectively over the phone. How is the spoiled Steve in disguise as middle aged rebel Dylan treating my best friend lately?"
"Alice," said Helena with a fond laugh as she gathered the shorter woman up in a hug. "It's wonderful to see you in person, darling. I must admit that I was growing weary of only getting to hear your disembodied but dreadfully charming voice by way of contact. How are you?"
"Not talking about me," sing songed Alice playfully, rocking from side to side with Helena as they remained in a hug. "This is talk about Helena and Steve day. So lets get to talking."
"Things are progressing nicely," said Helena carefully. When it came to Alice she rarely guarded her thoughts and almost never hesitated in speaking them. Except when she didn't want to trouble the other woman. Which is something that was foremost in her mind because of Dana's health. Certainly the last thing the blonde needed was to hear about her own needling doubts because of Dylan's worrisome habit of becoming a tad standoffish when in the public eye. All the same, Helena was pleased with how things were going. After all, Dylan had been so very good with the children when they had gone out for lunch together. With this thought in her mind, Helena paused in her walk and turned to Alice wearing a shy smile. "Yesterday I was able to finally introduce her to the children."
"Yeah? How did that go? Nicely?" asked Alice in teasing tones. When Helena scowled slightly, the blonde laughed and lightly pushed on the British woman's shoulders, encouraging her to continue on her walk upstairs. "I'm sorry! But you're the one who used the term progressing nicely when I asked how things are going in your romantic life. Most people say stuff like that when talking about financial investments not the person they're getting down and dirty with."
"And who, may I ask, proclaimed that I was getting down and dirty with anyone? I don't remember saying such things," replied Helena dryly, standing to one side of the stairs and waiting for Alice to finish climbing them.
"You have freaky Tron memory, you know that?" declared Alice humorously, shaking her head as she grabbed Helena's hand and led her over to the couch. The blonde plopped down on the couch, her nose crinkling up as she frowned. She loathed Helena's couch. It was expensive and posh and pretty but it was fucking soft to the degree that anytime Alice sat on it she felt like she was sinking into the abyss or something similar. Maybe the bog? Who knows. But it was some name of a horrible horror movie that she was sinking into. Poking at a cushion and watching as it immediately bounced back, Alice muttered, "The foamy menace."
"I must say yet again, that plenty of people have furniture which is filled with foam in our society," said Helena, rolling her eyes and sitting across from Alice. "I haven't the slightest idea why you must fixate on my innocent sofa. Making it out to be some creature of evil due to its innards when it has countless brethren all over the world who are filled the same way."
"Your couch is closest," Alice said as she batted wide and entirely too innocent eyes. Then moments later, they narrowed and Alice tilted her head to one side, saying with a definite laugh in her voice, "Did you just use the word innards?"
"Innards is a valid word!" defended Helena rather huffily. "You're speaking of the inner workings of my sofa and what is inside something is often referred to as the innards."
"Yeah? And where is that, hillbilly Helena?" asked Alice, grinning largely and releasing a shriek when the British woman pounced and began tickling her sides. Collapsed in a fit of giggles, she said in between gasps of air, "I give, I give. Your couch isn't the menace, you are."
Helena wore a triumphant expression on hearing this and rested her head on Alice's shoulder. They remained silent for several moments the Helena peered up at the blonde, affection lacing her every word as she murmured, "You do realize you are the only person, besides the children, who can manage to inspire such moments of buffoonery?"
"I know," Alice drawled, sounding supremely proud of herself. So proud that the only thing which could stop her from showing that pride in a huge grin was the kiss she deposited on top of Helena's head. Of course, soon as the kiss was over the grin came right back. "And I just happen to think it should go in my top five kick ass accomplishments in life. Making the prune faced Ms. Peabody get herself a bad case of the buffoonery."
"Since when I am prune faced?" Helena asked in droll tones.
"When you drink prune juice?" offered Alice with an eyebrow waggle and silly grin. When Helena groaned at this, the blonde laughed and said, "Okay! It was lame. But not as lame as you not telling me how things are really going with Dylan. And please, for the love of whoever, don't say progressing nicely or some other form of that phrase as an answer."
There were so many ways to answer that question that Helena honestly had no idea how to reply. Which is precisely what she told Alice. Her friend contemplated this for a moment then said that maybe Helena should just tell her the first thing that popped into her head when she thought of Dylan and the time she spent with her.
"Thrilling? Powerful? Fucking frightening?" Helena released a wry burst of laughter at her last words. Sighing deeply, she looked at Alice with a lidded gaze. "All of the above." Closing her eyes, feeling as if she wouldn't be able to say this and look at the woman that she often wished she was falling in love with, Helena murmured, "Mostly it feels as if it's over too soon."
"I'm guessing that she still hasn't managed to tell Danny about you guys," said Alice softly, delicately combing her fingers through the British woman's curly hair. Helena didn't reply and merely gave a slight nod into the blonde who released a quiet noise of frustration and said, "Helena, you--" Stopping abruptly to snap her mouth shut, Alice closed her eyes briefly only to find Helena looking at her worriedly when she opened them. With a reassuring smile, she lightly touched the brunette's cheek and said, "I don't want to lecture again. Lecturing doesn't help you and I want to help my best friend. So," Alice said the word extravagantly, giving it a large and rather emphatic pop. "How do I help?"
"You help simply by existing, darling," murmured Helena, her blue eyes shining with such depth of sincerity that once again, Alice found herself wondering how anyone could doubt this woman's kindness. How they could manage to find suspicion in her most generous acts and rip apart what was meant to be a simple good work and turn into something sinister. "It helps so much to know I have a friend. And it eases my mind to also know that said friend isn't motivated by the contents of my pocketbook," Helena finished wryly.
"But I do like it when you buy me ice cream," noted Alice, a smile in her voice and she now began braiding Helena's hair without the other woman's knowledge. "Triple chocolate mocha chip with marshmallows. Plus whipped cream and a cherry."
"You like it when anyone buys you ice cream," said Helena sardonically, frowning slightly as she felt Alice's hands at work and hoping that the blonde wasn't braiding her hair yet again. "I am not foolish enough to believe I am special in that respect."
"Yeah, but ice cream bought by you is the best because you're my best friend and THAT," Alice boomed the word loudly and dropped her hands down to lightly tickle Helena in the sides. "Is what makes it extra special." Allowing the brunette to bat her hands away, Alice returned to her covert task of hair braiding. "And don't you even try to argue over this."
"I debate but never argue," said Helena primly. Tilting her head back, she sighed on seeing that Alice was indeed braiding her hair once again. Deciding she would allow it because it seemed to give the blonde an odd amount of pleasure, Helena continued, "Mother abhors arguments but she loves a good debate. Or that is what she claims in mixed company."
"And since she debates that's what you have to do too," finished Alice in knowing tones. Moving onto another section of hair to begin braiding it, she asked absently, "Has Dylan had the soul draining experience of meeting Dame Peabody yet?"
"Darling!" exclaimed Helena as she gave an exuberant laugh and whapped Alice's leg. "I do wish you wouldn't say such things. It makes me believe that meeting my mother actually has traumatized you in some dreadful manner."
"Meeting her? No," drawled Alice, tilting her head and pausing to consider if this braid should be smaller or larger than its counterparts. "But continuing to meet her over and over again in a social setting where she's supposed to be at least decent to you since there are other people around but she just acts like a huge fucking shrew and I want to punch her? Yeah, I think that's getting a wee on the traumatizing side. Only because I suck at repressing my urge to punch."
"It does become tiring," said Helena, allowing a subtle verbal admission that she had also contemplated punching her mother. Sitting silently for quite some time, Helena was soothed by the gentle movement of Alice's hands in her hair, busily braiding away and though she knew it would take upwards of an hour to remove the braids the brunette was happy to do it. Perhaps because they were proof that Alice was here, that she wasn't some figment of Helena's imagination. That after years of wishing and longing she finally had a person that truly cared for her and only her. Not for her family name and not for her money and not for any other myriad of reasons. God, was it such a relief to have that at least. "I'm afraid to introduce her to mother," she murmured the words before she even knew what she was saying. Alice's hands stilled in her hair, falling down to her hips to hold her lightly. Sinking back into the journalist with a sigh, Helena looked up at the other woman and locked their eyes. "The women I date who have no knowledge of my family history often experience difficulties when meeting my mother for the first time. In fact, they rarely choose to remain in my life after that meeting," Helena confessed in self deprecating tones as she formed a smile to match. "My charms are never enough and so they always leave." Closing her eyes, Helena tried to keep her voice from wavering but failed as she said, "I would like to keep Dylan with me for a bit longer."
There was a tender kiss to the back of her head and then Alice's chin was resting comfortably on her shoulder, almost as if that was where it always belonged. Warm breath tickled Helena's skin and then Alice said soft and almost sadly, "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
Since the day they truly met, which was the day they had started their friendship, both Alice and Helena made an unspoken promise to never lie to one another. To always tell the truth, whether it be kind or harsh, in order to provide the best of help. And that was why Helena paused. Because she couldn't lie to Alice but at the same time she didn't want to tell the truth either. She knew the reality of what she felt for Dylan and she knew it was going to hurt her in the end. But some strange part of her felt that maybe if she didn't say the words it would somehow hurt less. That if she didn't verbalize the fact that she was falling for Dylan then maybe it would be easier to remove it from her memory when it was over.
What if it isn't over? What if it never becomes over? That's what Alice would say to her if she confessed these thoughts. She would say that and a thousand other lovely and comforting things that would make Helena feel better but wouldn't take away her fears. But despite the fears she couldn't end things with Dylan and she couldn't manage to put that wall back up between them. The filmmaker had destroyed it so thoroughly that Helena wondered if she could ever bring it back up again. And that was what scared her most of all.
The thought of staying this exposed and vulnerable for the rest of her life. It was enough to give her the shivers and leave her utterly cold, both inside and out.
Her body must have reflected these thoughts because Alice was rubbing her arms now, her touch soothing and warm and deliciously comforting. Another kiss to her head as the blonde murmured in her ear, "It's okay, sweetie. I understand."
"I know you do," whispered Helena, sinking into Alice's arms. Looking up and meeting their eyes, she was struck by the gentle care she saw there. But then, Alice was always like that with her. Oh yes, she could be loud and boisterous and silly but when it came right down to it she was so very careful with Helena's feelings and that was why the British woman adored her. She found it was easy for people to pretend to love but to pretend to care? Really and truly? As she saw in Alice now? That was almost impossible. Deciding that they simply had to lighten this suddenly oppressive mood, Helena's mind wandered to the theme song of a certain television show she had been forced to watch at the early morning hours by Alice. Which is why she lightly sang out, "Thank you for being a friend."
"Golden Girls!" Alice squealed in utmost pleasure, squeezing Helena's waist and rocking her to and fro in a hug. "I totally want to sing this with you." When Helena groaned loudly at this, Alice wheedled in her ear, "Come on, Helena. You have to sing this with me. You're the one who started it."
"Very well," said Helena, her voice reflecting the fact that she was rolling her eyes. All the same, there was very little she could deny Alice and so she was soon singing, "Traveled down the road and back again."
"Your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidant," sang Alice happily, picking up the next lyric. Nudging Helena, she rested her chin on the British woman's shoulder and said, "Lets sing the last part of the song together, all right?"
Nodding in agreement, Helena found herself peering back at Alice and matching her bright smile as they sang together, "And if you threw a party, invited everyone you knew. You would see the biggest gift would be from me. And the card attached would say…" Pausing together, they had a strange moment of complete mental synchronicity and boomed the ending lyric loudly and joyfully, "Thank you for being a friend!"
Although this impromptu musical number caused them to burst into a fit of laughter, both Alice and Helena felt they had managed to find their theme song. Cheesy as it might be.
---
Most women say that they won't miss their period when its gone and most lesbians say they don't understand why they have a period in the first place. At least the ones who don't have aspirations of bearing children say that. And while Dana did love children, she didn't have any desire to be a parent. When you put that on top of being a life long athlete, you could definitely count her among the women who said they wouldn't miss their period.
But now her period was gone and Dana missed it.
Chemotherapy was responsible for her condition. What was its name again? She knew the name, she had done the stupid word association game that Howie had been teaching her. The one he insisted would help to keep her mind sharp. Dana wasn't sure why exactly her mind needed to stay all that sharp in the first place. It wasn't like she was a rocket scientist. She hit a ball and ran after it for a living. Or that's what she used to do anyway.
Amen Norris, hell yeah!
Oh yeah, amenorrhea, that was it. Why did conditions and diseases and symptoms have horrible names like that? Was it because they never meant any good and the names reflected that? Dana had no idea but she was starting to grasp why she was missing her period.
It was the same reason she was going to miss her breast after the mastectomy. Having a period made Dana feel like a woman. Though this feat was accomplished on a smaller and admittedly more gross level when it came to her bodily functions. But all the same, it made her feel like a woman and because of this disease and its treatment, it was gone.
Only the treatment wasn't good enough somehow. The work it was doing wasn't meeting its full potential, as her old coach would say, and now she had to get a mastectomy. Of course, that was a tiny lie. She didn't have to get it. Certainly she could refuse and attempt the other treatments Dr. Fields tried to suggest but it was true what she told Shane.
She wanted it over and done with.
The sooner she was free of this cancer then the sooner she could truly begin to live her life with Alice. Then she could move her focus onto returning her body to its previous shape so her outside once again matched her inside. Because having that athletic body was such a huge part of how Dana saw herself. She was a competitor, someone who used their body to prove their mind. Not just their mind but their worth as a person. Dana had never been terribly clever and she never had the patience to try extra hard at school. She did enough to pass and to make her parents proud and to keep her on the school tennis team.
Where she really came alive was on the tennis court. For what seemed like endless years, that was the one place Dana felt confident to be herself. When she was playing on the court no one could judge her and any flaws they found could be fixed with hard work and training. Whatever was wrong with her on the court was something Dana could control. But that endless list of personal imperfections off the court? Things she couldn't think of much less say while in the presence of her parents? They had no solution and were only a source of torment.
And so, Dana began hating herself when she wasn't playing tennis. Something that got worse after Stephanie was ripped from her life first at her parents hands and then by her own choice. But then she met Alice and she found her friends and slowly but surely she began to love and trust once again. The road was long and tiring to travel but eventually Dana started to feel as confident off the court as she did on. Alice did that for her, first in their friendship and then in their romance. And that was how Dana knew she would always be in love with her.
Nobody made her feel like Alice.
Feel completely loved, completely understood, completely desired, and completely accepted. There wasn't a piece of her that Alice didn't know about, no matter how small and how dirty and how sad, Alice knew about it and she loved her anyway. She fucking loved all of the pieces that made Dana who she was. The day Dana finally realized that, she was the happiest she had ever been. At least, until Alice induced an Earth shattering orgasm a few hours later.
Alice knew her completely but that was when she was well and the sad thing was, no matter how much anyone wanted to deny it, Dana wasn't the same person anymore. Cancer had changed her, inside and out, and that ever present pessimistic voice in her brain kept asking how much change could Alice take? How much change before she noticed the Dana she loved was slowly disappearing? And why in the hell did things like chemotherapy and her upcoming mastectomy have to give it a face? Why did her body have to change with her spirit?
How much longer until there was nothing left? When all traces of her disappeared, leaving behind an empty shell of a person? How much longer until she ceased being herself and became this strange and frightening alien creature? Someone her friends and family knew they should care for but didn't know precisely why. Perhaps because it was expected.
Twenty minutes and counting.
That was length of time Dana had been standing naked in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom. Staring at herself from every possible angle, squinting her eyes, opening them wide, kneeling, bending over. Dana looked at herself in the mirror, desperate for some sign of recognition. Something familiar from the days not so long ago when she was healthy. A muscle that hadn't weakened or a tan line that had survived.
But nothing was there, it had all but disappeared and her body was left to look bare and hungry and desperate. She could see her ribs without even trying. They jutted outwards, like some defiant proof of her illness. Almost worse than the hair that was missing. Because people lose their hair, it's a natural part of life, but people don't naturally look like skeletons.
And that's what she looked like. A fucking skeleton. Some Halloween nightmare come to life and pressing her hand over her right breast, Dana wondered how Alice could love her when she was like this. She was a ghost of who she had been and the blonde surely had to be in love with the memory of her and not the actual person. Because the actual person was disappearing and Dana wasn't sure when or if she would ever return.
Maybe if she stood here long enough she could get used to it. Become somehow immune to the sight of her body wasting away, turning her into someone else against her will. If she just looked at herself unflinching and honest and brutal then she could be able to convince Alice it wasn't bothering her that much. That she didn't care about her body being transformed against her own will, that it didn't upset her to see a lifetime of work and training evaporating like the morning dew on blades of grass. So Dana stood and she stared.
Which was how Alice found her when she arrived at the condo fifteen minutes later. Standing and staring, naked and vulnerable, raw and painfully real. That was the portrait of Dana Fairbanks which greeted her.
Hesitant in her approach, Alice lightly touched the small of Dana's back and murmured, "Are you all right, baby?" At the sound of Alice's voice, Dana turned her head and stared at her with blank eyes. Swallowing deeply, the blonde ran her hands up and down the athlete's arms in an attempt to warm her up. "Why are you standing here like this? You'll catch cold."
Wearing a face of concern, Alice retrieved the blanket at the foot of the bed while Dana remained in front of the mirror. Staring at her reflection with nothing left to recognize, the athlete said in a stark whisper, "What do you see?"
"What, Dane?" asked Alice distractedly, draping the blanket over the tennis player's thin shoulders and once again trying to warm the other woman up. Rubbing her hands up and down Dana's arms, swift but gentle, she said, "What did you say? I couldn't hear you."
Grasping Alice's hands in her own, stilling their movement, Dana met their eyes and said, "What do you see when you look at me? Because I don't know anymore, Al. I look in the mirror and I know it's me but I don't recognize the person I'm looking at."
"Dana," Alice said her name in a whisper. Shaking her hands out of Dana's hold, she lifted them up to stroke the athlete's cheek gentle and loving. "I see you." Rising up on her tiptoes, resting their foreheads together, Alice said in a forceful murmur, "I see you."
"But I don't even look like me anymore," said Dana brokenly, sinking into Alice's arms and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Burying her face in the crook of the blonde's neck, she squeezed her eyes shut and before she realized it, the words began spilling from her mouth fast and tearful. "The more treatment I get the more I don't look like myself and it's like I'm not even the person you fell in love with anymore. I keep changing and I don't want to change, Al! But there's nothing I can do to stop it and it's only going to get worse."
Feeling entirely uneasy and startled by what she just heard, Alice said carefully, "What do you mean it's only going to get worse?" No answer came and the blonde pulled away from Dana to clasp her shoulders and duck her head down to meet their eyes. "Dana," she began, her voice warm and comforting but laced with an undeniable strength. "What did you mean when you said it's only going to get worse?"
"Dr. Fields called today," said Dana hoarsely, shaking free of Alice's hold and wrapping the blanket around her body to cover it from view. She couldn't tell Alice about this and let her look at her at the same time. It would be yet another reminder of how she was changing because of this disease, and not for the better. "The scans he took, they showed that the cancer has spread to my lymph nodes. I told him I wanted a mastectomy."
"When?" asked Alice thickly, sounding heavy with resignation.
"Next week? I don't know," Dana replied, wrapping the blanket around herself all the more tightly. She felt certain Alice's lack of response had proven her point. That this disease was changing her too much, enough that Alice couldn't recognize the person she fell in love with anymore. And that she didn't really want Dana but she couldn't leave her. Not in a situation like this. It was all right though. Cancer ridden or not, Dana was very much capable of leaving. Whether it be a room, relationship, or even this life. She could leave it. In fact, that was probably all she could do at this point. "It's okay, Al," said Dana quietly, taking a step towards the window to stare out at the setting sun. "I understand and it's okay. I don't blame you."
"Blame me for what?" asked Alice almost sharply, her brow furrowing in confusion. When she received no reply she turned the athlete around, noting absently the look of surprise on Dana's face as she halfway growled, "What do you understand?" Instead of replying, the tennis player looked at her blankly and this seemed to frustrate Alice even more. Shaking the brunette, she demanded, "What do you understand, Dana? And what don't you blame me for?"
"I understand why you wouldn't want me after the operation," Dana whispered, regretting the words the moment they left her mouth because of the reaction they caused. Alice paled and turned a sickly color, backing away from the athlete as she looked lost and confused. Then her head lifted and brown eyes met blue and Dana knew she would never forget the anger she saw there. But it was more than anger, it was betrayal as well. The tennis player could see the hurt in Alice and with that, she knew the thoughts she had been having were wrong. They were wrong about her becoming this foreign and disgusting creature, with all shreds of who she was disappearing. Wrong about her turning into something other than the woman Alice loved. They were all wrong because those thoughts were her own and had nothing to do with the journalist. Dana had pushed those thoughts and feelings onto Alice in some attempt to what? Protect herself from possible rejection later? But Alice would never reject her… at least, before now she wouldn't. "Alice," she said her name in a sob, reaching out to the blonde with desperate and seeking hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm just so scared and I don't know who I am anymore. It's like the cancer is changing me inside and out and I can't stop it."
"Dana," Alice uttered her name like a prayer, rushing forward to wrap the tennis player in an loving embrace. Pulling away to hold the Dana's face in her hands, she wiped the tears away with the pads of her thumbs. "This disease can't really change you unless you let it. And the changes that you do let happen? They don't have to be bad ones," she flashed a warm and reassuring smile before pressing her lips to Dana's for a soft kiss. Resting cheek to cheek, Alice nuzzled the athlete's neck and they rocked back and forth in each other's arms. Then her voice was quiet and pleading in Dana's ear, "But don't ever think I wouldn't want you. Never think that. Because sometimes I think you're the only worthwhile thing I've ever wanted."
Hushed whispers of love were all that remained. Then came the quiet whoosh of a blanket pushed aside and the thump of clothes hastily removed. Mouths that moaned and whimpered as they met hot and hungry and seeking. Hands that were frantic but gentle and tender and echoing with adoration in the way they traced of every harsh line. Caressing the ribs that painfully jutted out and kissing the bruised skin now laid bare as Alice lowered Dana carefully on the bed, climbing over her slow and sleek like a cat after its prey.
Alice kissed her long and hard and detailed. Wanting to have everything there was to taste of Dana before she slid down to take the nipple of her right breast into her mouth. Sucking on it softly and nuzzling the skin while her fingers played out over the tennis player's body, learning the changes and taking them in. Showing Dana with every stroke that she saw the differences and she not only accepted them but she loved them because they were a part of the athlete.
It was like being worshipped, Dana realized, trembling and shaking and trying to hold off on her third orgasm as Alice sucked hard then soft on her clit. There wasn't a part of her body that the blonde hadn't kissed, caressed, or simply loved and it was like being worshipped because Dana had never felt this perfect before. How could there be anything wrong with her inside or out when Alice could treat her this way? Touch her this way? Tender but passionate and so fucking eager, as if she could never get enough of the athlete. As if she was trying to use this time to somehow get her fill only to realize that it just wasn't possible. So she was now in a frenzy, trying desperately to get as much as she was able.
Seconds that turned into minutes that turned into hours. That was how long they made love. The unwelcome end arriving at the onset of exhaustion, collapsing into each other in a tangle of limbs and shallow breathing. Their bodies aching and their minds dazed, they were lost in a kaleidoscope of feeling, both physical and emotional. Unable to truly comprehend everything that had just happened between them but knowing one thing absolutely.
The love they had for each other could never disappear. No matter what happened, it would always go on because love doesn't need a body to exist. It just needs a soul.
To be continued...
Finally!