This is NOT yet edited, but will be soon. Please point out any ridiculous mistakes.

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Beep. Beep. Beep.

I shifted position uncomfortably, the relentless beeping of the machine next to me once again bringing me into reluctant wakefulness. One would think that I’d be used to the sound of my own heartbeat by now, but there was a tiny part of me that just wouldn’t accept it. It was so strong, so consistent. The beeping continued on amidst the heavy silence of the room, the only sound I had come to rely on.

Given its steadiness, it was hard to believe I was dying.

Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, they’d called it. It had started out as a shortness of breath, a dry cough that was incredibly persistent. Over a year-long span, I contracted colds and upper respiratory infections numerous times before I realized that there was something else wrong, that the problem ran much deeper. By the time they diagnosed me, I only had two years left to live. There was no cure, only a lung transplant that would prolong the inevitable. I was pretty sure that I was still far down on that list. I had been waiting two years for a transplant and they had yet to find a donor.

At first, it had been really hard to accept that my time was dwindling. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d broken down in front of my family. Now, I was much calmer about it, at least in front of others. Death wasn’t so scary anymore, I tried to convince myself.

 Still, there was a lingering, niggling doubt deep inside of me. It was this small trace of fear that made me toss and turn at night, my hospital bed sheets sticking to my sweaty skin as the nightmares assaulted me. Part of me simply refused to bow to my impending death.

 I raised a hand and pressed it against the oxygen tubes on my face. Two years had passed, and eventually I’d contracted an infection so severe that it nearly killed me and rendered me weak and fragile. Now I was stuck here, in this hospital with the white walls and the stench of death, relying on this contraption to help me continue breathing. Soon, I would have to get a mask that would provide 100% support. My lungs had betrayed me and it grew harder to breathe every day. 

Twenty-one years old, and dying of a disease that usually affected men or middle-aged people. It was rare for someone to contract it at my age. Then again, my grandfather had it, or so I was told. It was just my luck that I’d be genetically predisposed to contract a terminal illness.

I sighed heavily, trying to climb out of the pool of self-pity I was drowning in. I had never been like this, before. I had always been the odd, quirky, sarcastic member of my small friend group at high school. My outlook on life had been pretty optimistic before all of this.

 I was initially shy and awkward upon meeting new people, and because of that, I only kept a few friends around. It was hard for me to trust people and get out of my shell. Plus, I had a very low tolerance for idiots and it was difficult for me to pretend to like a person that annoyed me. However, once I grew close to someone, my witty, sarcastic side emerged…at least I liked to think of myself that way.

I had started college as a freshman at the University of Michigan. Unfortunately, I’d been diagnosed just a couple months in, and had dropped out after one semester. I was pretty sure that most of my sense of humor had eroded since the diagnosis.

 I grumbled to myself as I turned to stare out the window of Detroit Medical Center. The sky was grey and my view was terrible; it was just a parking lot with a few scraggly trees. The same view I’d had for weeks now.

Someone really needed to add some splashes of color to this room. Hell, I’d be fine with a few potted plants on my windowsill.

“Lucy.”

 My head abruptly swiveled to the side and I focused on my father and stepmother, who had just entered the room. I didn’t have to force the smile that graced my lips when I took in my family. They were here as much as possible, and were practically the only ones who could brighten my day, besides my best friends that tried to visit.

 My smile widened further when I saw that my five-year-old half-brother, Brentley, was here with them. My father had re-married several years ago when I was in middle school. Contrary to the popular stigma about “evil stepparents,” my blonde stepmother, Carla, was incredibly nice. I hadn’t been around that much in high school because I was always holed up reading somewhere, and I knew that at times I could be a total pain in the ass with my frequent sarcastic remarks, but she still loved me for it.

 “Hey, guys!” I said, my voice coming out like a pathetic croak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “How was dinner?”

 “Greeeaaattt!” Brentley exclaimed, a cheeky grin on his chubby face. The poor kid really had no idea what exactly was happening to me; I didn’t know what they had told him. They tried to act normal, taking him out for most mealtimes and attempting to keep him out of the hospital for the majority of the time.

 “We brought you leftovers,” my father said in his deep, raspy voice. His chocolate-brown hair was windswept, his cheeks rosy from the cold. I smiled half-heartedly. They always brought me food back, and I almost never ate it. I could only eat tiny portions several times a day, and typically I just stuck with crackers. I never had much of an appetite anymore.

 They knew that, but they still brought leftovers. It was a touching gesture. I began to reply, but was suddenly seized by a bout of coughs that racked my entire body. I hunched over in the sitting position, wheezing as I tried to inhale precious air in between coughs. My throat burned with an itch that I couldn’t scratch, making my eyes water. My father, concern knitting his brow, hurried over to me but there was little he could do. 

“Do you want me to call the nurse?” Carla asked frantically.

 I shook my head vehemently, taking deep breaths as the coughs began to subside. I wiped away a stray tear that had been forced out from the effort I was expending.

“Christ, Lucy, it can’t keep going on like this,” my Father said. I ignored that statement, because he’d made it a million times already.

 “It’s okay, I’ve got this.” My unsteady croaking was not convincing. I swallowed hard, trying to force any remaining coughs down.

My father’s mouth quirked upwards. “That’s what you said about that two-mile run in eighth grade.” He was attempting to lighten the mood, and I appreciated it.

 I shot him a mock glare. “Hey, it isn’t my fault you fed me such a hearty breakfast. You should’ve known I couldn’t run after eating that!”

“I think I still have that picture of you puking in a bush along the trail.”

 Carla chuckled, although there was a nervous edge to it. I admittedly felt better, though. My father and I had always playfully bickered like this before I got sick.

 Carla’s face suddenly brightened as if she remembered something. “Oh! Charles, we haven’t even told Lucy that her friends are here!” she stated, giving my father a pointed look that I couldn’t decipher. My father, for some reason, suddenly looked mildly irritated.

“I still don’t like the idea of those two coming in here. I’ve never even seen them!”

 “Well of course, you didn’t meet all of Lucy’s friends from college,” she countered. Brentley, meanwhile, had sat down on a nearby chair and was studiously focusing on his Nintendo 3DS. He was obsessed with that new Pokemon game.

 “Who are we talking about?” I asked, puzzled.

Carla had a genuine expression of eagerness on her face, and it befuddled me. “Your guy friends from college are here to see you.”

 My bewilderment only increased. I only had a couple friends and they weren’t due to visit until tomorrow, and almost none of my friends were guys. I’d had one guy friend in high school, but we’d drifted apart in college. I wasn’t exactly proficient at speaking with the opposite sex. If an attractive guy looked at me for too long, I made a fool out of myself. It was my Achilles heel.

 Since I had gotten sick at the very beginning of college, I hadn’t had much chance to emerge from my realm of discomfort around men. I had never been a partier or anything like that, so my interaction with the opposite sex was incredibly limited. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d hung out with a guy.

Not to mention that I looked like absolute hell for the last couple of weeks since the respiratory infection left me here. I was glad I didn’t have any guys wanting to see me. I wracked my brains, trying to think who could possibly be here. Truthfully, part of me was so desperate for human contact at this point that I almost wouldn’t have cared who it was. My family was great, but sometimes I felt stifled when they were around, especially with the somber mood lurking overhead.

“See, she’s acting like she doesn’t know them!” My father said irritably. I wasn’t surprised; the idea of me in close proximity to guys always freaked him out. I was his “precious little girl,” and he kept me sheltered from all men. That was probably part of the reason my friend Anna told me I was a “hopeless case” when it came to anything relating to them.

“They knew all the classes she was taking back during freshman year, so obviously-”

 “That was two years ago. Why now?”

 “Charles, I don’t know. She just-”

“Guys.” I started, trying to get a word in edgewise.

“I don’t want strangers in here,” he grumbled.

“It’s Lucy’s choice to make!”

 “Does she look fit to receive strangers?” 

“Guys, I’m right here! I’m fine!” I snapped, cutting off their argument. “And if they say they’re my friends, it’s fine. I wouldn’t mind seeing them.”

 Truthfully, I had no clue who could be here. But after being contained in a tiny, white-walled room with only my suffering to accompany me, I was desperate for any distraction I could get. My family was burdened enough by spending most of their time here. New visitors would help differentiate this day from all the horrible ones before. It was a bold move, I supposed, but what did I have to lose? It was probably just some guys from my high school.

 Or perhaps, churchgoing young men coming to bring me comfort in my last days.

Or even representatives from that foundation that granted last wishes to people with terminal illnesses. I’d always wanted to visit Hogwarts; maybe it was my lucky day!

 Or maybe they were serial killers. Well, I didn’t care. I was dying anyways.

 “Lucy…”

 “Dad, I’m fine. Come on.”

 He gave me a long look, but I knew he was thinking along the same lines as me: I wouldn’t have much more time to see my friends anyway if I didn’t get a lung transplant. Every day, it was harder to breathe. My shaky breaths and constant fatigue, even in this moment, were testament to that. How much time did I have left, weeks? Maybe not even that long.

 “Fine. Come on, Brentley.” His warm brown eyes settled on me in a warning. “We’ll be right outside.”

 I rolled my eyes, the exact same brown shade as his, as they made to leave the room, Carla tossing a wink over her shoulder and indicating that I brush my hair. I blushed slightly despite myself. She’d always tried to set me up with a boyfriend but I’d never been interested. I was not self-deprecating enough to humiliate myself in front of the same guy on a daily basis.

 Even so, as my family exited the hospital room, I grabbed the travel-size brush sitting near me and ran it through my tangled mess of long hair. My light brown hair may be pin-straight, a trait I inherited from my mother, but it still ended up matted at the slightest provocation.

 Not a minute later I heard a muttered exchange occurring out in the hall. Assuming it was my “visitors” speaking with my family, I tried to sit up as best as I could and prayed I wouldn’t have another coughing fit. I ran through several scenarios in my head regarding the mysterious strangers. Well, at least they were keeping my mind off of my illness.

 When I heard the door creak and my unexpected visitors made their way in, my breath caught in my throat and my eyes widened in horror. First, because I looked like a mess, and I didn’t recognize these two boys at all.

 Second, because they were the most beautiful male specimens I had ever seen.

 I nearly choked on my own spit, unable to prevent myself from gaping at them. The second boy closed the door behind them, but I scarcely noticed because my eyes were quite occupied as I shamelessly checked them out.

 The first boy—or young man, rather, as he looked about my age or older—was of Asian descent, with flawlessly smooth skin and almond-shaped eyes so dark they were nearly black. His hair, too, was black as night. Something about the sharp cheekbones and set of his face made him look like an extremely serious person. He was tall but very lean, and wore a collared shirt with dark jeans.

 The second boy was just as tall or taller, but his coloring was the exact opposite. He was fairly pale, with tousled blonde hair and piercing blue eyes so intense that I shivered under his scrutiny, feeling like he was peering intimately into my soul. He, too had high cheekbones and sculptured features, and was far more beautiful than any girl I’d ever seen. It was quite depressing.

 I absorbed all of this within a few seconds as they, too gave me a once over. I tried not to shift uncomfortably, knowing I did not measure up to their standards. Who were these guys, anyway? I felt my face heating up in a blush and my hands were getting clammy. I swallowed hard, glancing from one to the other as I was unable to make eye contact with either for long.

 I should say something, I knew, but I was lost for words….or I had lost the ability to form them. Out of all the places in the world, I had no clue while these two angelic creatures would be in MY hospital room.

 “You are Lucy Russell, correct?” The dark-haired one finally spoke. He had a rich, musical voice. I blinked at him, trying to snap myself out of the daze I was in.

“Y-yes,” I stammered pathetically, and I could not blame my sickness for the stutter. Once again, I was going to humiliate myself in the presence of the opposite sex. Wonderful.

 “You can call me Kaz, and this is Adam,” Kaz continued, indicating the blonde one, Adam, as he spoke.

I just stared, my face growing increasingly red. Kaz, looking slightly uncomfortable when he realized I wasn’t going to respond, continued, “We heard about your sickness. We’ve come to help.”

 I couldn’t help the snort of incredulity that escaped me. How in the hell could they help?

 “We have a way to cure you of your sickness.”

 Was this some sort of sick joke? I stared at Kaz, ignoring his ridiculously good looks as my eyes bored into his. “What, are you going to give me a lung?” Given my incredulity, my voice came out strong and steady.

 The blonde one, Adam, snorted. I noticed Kaz toss him a dark, reprimanding look before he turned back to me.

 “Not exactly. All I want is for you to hear us out.”

 Once again, I just stared at them, having no idea what to say to that. This had to be some sort of prank. Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis had no cure. I felt a prickle of hurt deep within me along with anger that someone would toy with me like this.

“I’m going to take your silence as a yes,” Kaz stated calmly.

 “He always does.” Adam spoke for the first time, a smirk hovering on his lips, eyes glimmering with amusement. Kaz, once again, scowled at him as he recognized what Adam was implying.

I got the impression that these two bickered. A lot.

 “Anyway, Adam and I have met with many people like you. People that are suffering from diseases and illnesses that have no cure. We come to offer our help, and offer you a choice.”

The ridiculousness of the subject matter of our conversation overcame my initial awkwardness around the opposite sex. I raised one eyebrow and stared at Kaz skeptically. Was he going to offer me some revolutionary drug still in the testing stages? Would I be a guinea pig?

“It seems crazy, I know. I also know you’ve been told for two years now that you’re dying, and that it’s inevitable. Maybe you’ve accepted it, or maybe you haven’t.”

 I idly wondered how he’d known I was sick for two years. Had he seen my file? My brow furrowed with puzzlement as I remembered what my family had said: these two somehow knew what classes I took in college. I felt a slight prickle of unease.

 “Most people may think they’ve accepted it, but they really haven’t. This makes them desperate to live, so desperate that they’ll make a difficult choice. These are exactly the type of people we recruit.”

 “Wait….recruit?” My confusion increased tenfold.

 “She speaks!” Adam drawled, once again receiving a glare from Kaz.

 “Yes. We have a cure that will solve all of your problems. It can heal any sickness on earth, and it comes with other…..benefits.” Kaz hesitated, a strange look crossing his features.

 There was yet another smirk on Adam’s delicate features. I felt like the word “benefits” entailed much more than I would ever assume.

 “However, there is a catch. It’s an exchange. We give you the cure, and in turn, you give us your services.”

 “Wait…..like sexual services?” I blurted out before I could help myself, horror rising within me. I was sure my pale cheeks were painted with a vibrant blush.

 Adam suddenly burst into laughter; a deep, appealing sound that made goosebumps erupt on my arms. Kaz, on the other hand, looked extremely uncomfortable. I felt my blush deepen.

 “Erm…no. Not at all.”

 I glanced down at my hands, mortified. Why the hell would I just come out and say something like that? What was wrong with me? These guys wouldn’t want me for that, anyways. They were totally out of my league.

 Kaz hurriedly continued as Adam chuckled lowly to himself, “Think of it more like work. You’ll have a job. It’s a tough job, but it isn’t a bad deal, given that you’ll get to live a long and healthy life.”

 I felt like this whole situation was surreal. I shouldn’t even be having this conversation, shouldn’t feel even the slightest flicker of hope. It couldn’t be possible.

“I see that you’re skeptical. Everyone is, at first. We just want you to think about it.” Kaz reached into his pocket, bringing something out into the light. It was a tiny glass vial, filled with a suspicious-looking scarlet liquid.

What the hell?

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to fight away the unease. I could always call the nurse if I needed to, and my family was just outside. These guys didn’t seem like serial killers, they were just deluded.

 “I’m going to leave this on your bedside table, okay?” Watching me the whole time, Kaz slowly, silently, stepped closer to me. I pressed myself up against the back of the bed, hoping he wouldn’t notice my quickening heartbeat.

As if he were approaching a rabid animal, Kaz held his arms out where I could see them, and carefully reached over towards the end table right next to my bed. He set the vial down smoothly. For some reason, I felt oddly cold when he stood so close to me, and I tried to contain my shivers. Yet another wave of unease washed over me at his proximity. Something about these two guys just put me…on edge, in a way I was completely unfamiliar with.

As soon as he set the vial down, Kaz moved away until he stood next to Adam again.

 “We seem crazy to you, but just think about it. This deal will be good for three days. After that, if you don’t accept it, you’ll never hear from us again and you can live the remainder of your life in peace.”

 I glanced at the vial next to me, perplexed. “What is that for?”

 “It is a small sample of the cure, just to prove that our offer is genuine. It should be enough to last a couple hours.” Although Kaz was the one speaking, it was Adam that was staring at me intently, as if sizing me up. I felt my cheeks heat up again under his scrutiny. Something about the blonde’s gaze was deeply unsettling.

 “This isn’t some sort of trap, or a trick to give you false hope. You’re not obligated to do anything. But I can tell you we have met with dozens of terminally ill patients, and I know a look of desperation when I see one. You haven’t totally given up,” Kaz was speaking vehemently now, and all I could do was bite my lip in perplexity. He was right. Deep down inside, I was still fighting.

I found my voice again, way past being embarrassed by the attractive male specimens in my hospital room. This conversation was toeing the line of insanity, but yet, both of them seemed completely genuine, as if they truly believed in this ‘miracle cure.’

“I have to….inject that?”

“Or you can just drink it,” Adam replied before Kaz could, his eyes glittering. My face must have betrayed my disgust because he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. I got the impression that he was rarely serious, unlike Kaz, who hadn’t cracked a smile.

I heard a bit of commotion in a hall, and Kaz’s expression transformed into one of urgency. “Well, it seems that our time is up, Lucy. That’s all we came to say.” He nodded at Adam, who moved over and opened the door.

I opened my mouth and shut it again, perplexed. I didn’t plan on accepting this ridiculous ‘offer,’ but the curiosity was still nipping at me.

Kaz leveled his gaze on me once more, contemplating. “Once again, I’m sure you think us delusional. Just think about it, that’s all we ask. If there is any part of you that is still fighting, give it a try. Think about it this way—it can’t make you any worse.” He began to head over towards the door, as I heard my father’s irritated voice echoing down the hallway. Hurriedly, Kaz glanced back over his shoulder once more.

“I almost forgot. If you accept this offer, meet us at midnight, three days from today. We will be waiting at the intersection of Pine Street and Main.”

 “If you’re going to show up at all,” Adam drawled, “Don’t be late.”

I blinked at them incredulously, unable to prevent the raspy laughter that escaped my hoarse throat. “Meet you there? How the heck am I supposed to do that? I can’t even leave this bed!”

 But, to my increasingly mounting frustration, I never got a good response. All I saw was Adam’s blue eyes flicker to the vial of red liquid and then back to me, so fast I wasn’t sure he meant that as a message.

And then, they were gone, the door shutting behind them with an ominous click.

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I tried to do my research, but if anyone knows more about this disease and notices some incorrect statements, please correct me. My heart does go out to anyone ever affected by pulmonary fibrosis and my intention was not to offend.

Song: "Human" by The Killers. Pic of Kaz on the side.

Next chap will be up tomorrow. This will be edited soon.