Laying side-by-side, in this back alley unlicensed medical clinic, I look over at Dane. Her short dark hair is matted down from the sweltering room. She's still tough as nails, but I've seen her softer, vulnerable side. I know she's terrified of what tomorrow will bring, yet she puts on a brave face and doesn't shirk from the future the way so many do.

Her death date mark shimmers slightly in the soft light. Overwhelmed by the compulsion to caress it for what might be the last time, I reach toward her gurney. The tips of my fingers are nearly there, when the drugs overpower me and I sink into the nothingness of anthesia, not knowing if she will be there when I awake, if I wake at all.

~*~*~

What was I thinking? I've gone my whole life knowing this day would come, even made my peace with it, and now all because of some boy I'm whimpering like a baby? I don't know what I'm doing here, why I ever agreed to go along with this hair-brained scheme.

Sigh. Why did he have to be so kind, so sweet and giving? Dan's tenderness broke through the protective layers I'd build up so carefully over the years. Now, I'd give up everything to spend the rest of my life with him. Which wasn't much of a commitment really, given I was slated to die tomorrow, but hey that's love for ya, right?

Over the hum and steady beat of the machinery monitoring our life signs, my thoughts come in waves. Now that there's a hope of changing my fate, of extending my life with this transfer from his, for the first time the magnitude of what we're trying to do hits me. If I don't die as scheduled, will Dan survive? What will become of me if I'm the only one that wakes?

A single tear escapes and traces a wet line down my cheek. I imagine the feel of Dan's fingertips brushing it away, as he had so tenderly the first time he saw me cry. The first time anyone had - I'm not the mushy sort. I want to look over at him, strapped to an identical gurney next to me, but I doubt I'd have the willpower left right now to keep from breaking down.

My last thought as I slip into the drug-induced coma is that maybe it's best this way - at least for however much longer I have left - my last memory of him won't be his unconscious, slack face with unrecognizing eyes starring at the distance just beyond me.

~*~*~

This is the concept place-holder for a romance I'm working on part time between other stories. I don't have an update schedule set for this one yet, but love to hear your thoughts on the premise. Cheers!