We sped to the hospital in a tense silence. Mum sat in the front, her face pale as the repeatedly tapped her nails off the steering wheel in frustration. Despite the roaring air-conditioner constantly blasting out thick spurts of warm air, the atmosphere was cold in the silence. My stomach fluttered lightly in anticipation. I almost felt giddy I clung tightly to Jay's white knuckles, while he stared out the window, glassy eyed.

Suddenly the car swerved violently to the right, narrowly missing a twisted metal fence post protruding from the pavement at a peculiar angle. It was like somebody had lodged a fishing hook in my intestines and jerked it to the right while I clenched my fingers around Jay's for dear life.

"Jesus Christ!" mum shrieked, her eyes wide with an amalgamation of rage and fear. "Look before you fucking reverse!"

If my heart hadn't been pumping so loud I couldn't hear myself think; if adrenaline hadn't been rushing through my veins instead of blood, then I probably would have found my mum's swearing funny. But the situation was too serious for humour.

"Are you ok?" Jay's lips brushed gently against my ear as his eyes frantically scanned my body for even the most minor scrape or bruise. My lips cracked a small smile.

"A wee bit shaken, but I think I'll manage," I chuckled weakly. Jay forced a feeble grin for my sake, then returned his distant gaze to the window, staring at the colours on the glass.

A heavy aroma that I hadn't noticed before cloaked the hospital, a suffocating scent of chemicals, and sickness, and... death. Wrinkling my nose slightly as we exited the car, I relaced my sweating fingers with Jay's. The fact that we were in the open and likely to be spotted any time now didn't really bother me – nothing really did. Not the low, aching grumbles emitted courtesy of my stomach, not the chilly winter gale whipping my hair into my eyes... The only thing that mattered right now was Jay.

As we clumsily stumbled to the hospital doors, I was increasingly aware of the eerie silence. While I knew that a weekday afternoon probably wasn't the hospitals busiest time, there wasn't another living soul in sight. I swallowed, and tightened grip on Jay's hand. The oppressing silence didn't feel like a good sign.

When we stepped through the automatic doors, I was hit a burning hot gust of warm air from a dusty heater perched above the metal. Blindingly bright lights glared down on us, the synthetic glow harsh and unfriendly. A single nurse strolled by, pushing a creaky metal trolley with great effort.

All in all, not the friendliest hospital. Not at all.

Jay and I trailed after mum nervously, a tense silence following us. Sweeping a few stray strands of dark hair back with a shaking hand, mum approached the receptionist, who was tapping along to an imaginary CD with a plastic red brio. Mum licked her plum smothered lips, faint traces of wrinkles decorating the pale skin around them. I'd never seen my mum look so old, or worn out. So tired...

"Hello?" she enquired hesitantly, her voice quavering slightly. "I'm here for Linda McCallion? I received a call at work today claiming that it was an important matter."

The receptionist blinked in surprise, as if previously unaware of our silent presence. Shaking her head, she dropped the twin biros and stretched her thin fingers, each knuckle cracking with a painful crick. I couldn't stop myself from wincing, much to Jay's feeble almost-amusement.

"Oh, hang on a moment please," she gushed, spinning round in the soft chair, the wheels screeching across the cold tiles. Her pink tongue poked out from the side of her lips as she casually swung her legs back and forth, her eyes rapidly darting back and forth while she scanned the computer.

"Tracey Jamieson?" she asked, smacking her lips together. Mum nodded. "With my son, Ash Jamieson and Linda's son, Jay McCallion."

It was kind of pathetic really, but I actually felt a small burst of happiness that mum had acknowledged the fact we were related.

It was quickly crushed when I caught sight of Jay's pallid face though.

"Hey, are you ok?" I asked him, brown eyes seeking green ones. Then I slapped my forehead. "Shit, stupid question. Please ignore me."

Laughing slightly, Jay pulled me closer and wrapped an arm around my waist as my face was squished up against his chest.

"Um, yeah. I'm ok. Thanks."

"Can't– breathe–" I gasped. "Severe lack of oxygen... Help..."

"Oh, sorry." His apology was sheepish, a pale pink rushing to his thin cheeks. For a brief second, he looked like the happy, quiet and occasionally teasing Jay I knew and loved.

"Er, Linda McCallion has been moved to a private ward on level 2," the receptionist told us, her shimmering lips wavering slightly. "Your husband is already up there, Mrs Jamieson."

"Thank you," mum whispered, before leaning back and tugging on Jay's other hand. "Let's go, boys."

We must have looked ridiculous as we ran through the practically deserted hospital, arms linked together like a clumsy daisy chain. But, quite frankly, I really didn't care.

A cluster of doctors, and dad, stood in the small waiting room connected to the private ward. My eyes suddenly began to sting. Private wards were only used in two circumstances. Either; the patient was extremely ill, but on the road to recovery...

Or the patient was dying.

"Steven!"

My mum ran towards my father, who enveloped her in a slick embrace the moment she was within arm's reach. The surrounding doctors shared a barely concealed look of sympathy, before turning back to their clipboards and muttering in low voices.

"Sit down, boys," one doctor urged, gesturing to the fraying orange couch pushed up against the wall. Two mismatched chairs sat around the other side of a low coffee table, which was cluttered with tattered children's books and magazines. A neat stack of cups stood quietly in the corner, half hidden behind an empty plastic kettle.

I perched myself nervously on the edge of the orange couch, just mere centimetres from Jay's shivering kneecap. Throughout the whole trip, I hadn't once let go of his hand.

"Your mum's took another stroke since we first called," the doctor whispered gently. "Her liver failed about twenty minutes ago and she's now on life support, but... but we're not sure how much longer she'll last. She really doesn't look like herself right now. Are you sure you want to see her?"

"Yeah," Jay croaked. "We do."

"We do," I confirmed, squeezing Jay's fingers. He flashed me a watery smile. "We do."

The doctor smiled sadly. "Ok. In you go."

Although to doctor had tried to warn us, nothing could have prepared me for the sight before me.

Linda McCallion, wrapped tightly in threaded white sheets, lay on the bed, only half conscious. A deep yellow colour flushed her cheeks; I had to swallow back some vomit. A sweat-soaked towel fell onto her forehead, her whole head lolled to one side. Eyelids fluttered open and closed, a faint raspy breath snaking through the oxygen mask with a hiss.

"Mum..."

And Jay rushed to her side, grabbing her hand so tightly I thought his fingers would fall off.

"Hello... Jay..." Linda sounded breathless, her voice fainter than the rustle of leaves during a summer breeze. Jay swallowed, and forced his lips into a smile. My own eyes watered, and I gently knelt down beside him, clasping his shoulder in a silent gesture of support.

"Hi mum. How's it going?"

Linda began coughing violently, her fungi-coloured fingers gnarling over Jay's. Jay took a deep breathe, a single tear spilling onto his scarlet cheeks.

"I'm... ok..." she rasped. "Been... better... Hey, Ash..."

My throat suddenly felt like it was closing up. I could barely breathe. How was I supposed to respond, how should I react? Should I handle her like a delicate flower, down to it's last few petals? Or just stick my head in the sand and pretend this whole thing wasn't happening?

"Jay... always looks... so happy... with you..." she told me, her swollen lips contorting into something resembling a smile as she gazed down at the pair of us. I blushed slightly, and nodded in thanks.

"Yeah," I agreed, my own voice wobbly. "Jay, uh... he makes me really happy. You've got a pretty cool son."

Both Jay and Linda attempted a fragile chortle, a startling contrast between their so similar yet so different voices. Jay's attempted laugh was quiet, almost silent, while Linda let out a terrifying gurgle, her whole body wheezing up and down with the effort.

"Thank you..." she told me sincerely.  "For... everything. For... making me... laugh. For making Jay... happy."

Her other skeletal hand reached towards me and I had to stop myself from flinching. She just looked so... old. So old, and feeble, and tired, and frail.

"My pleasure," I whispered, my voice scratchy. Linda smiled again.

"Please keep... looking after... him... when I'm... gone..."

"You're not going anywhere," Jay cut in firmly, his eyes now cherry red. "I won't let you."

Linda chuckled again, and patted her son's hand. "Yeah..."

"I can... I can give you some time alone," I offered awkwardly, not meeting either of their gazes. "You know... If you want."

"I'd appreciate... that..." Linda mumbled. "Thank you..."

I just nodded, and walked back into the waiting room.

"Fancy a cup of tea?" mum offered quietly as I gingerly sat back down on the sofa. For once in my life, I didn't think I could stomach anything, not even a cup of deliciously tempting tea.

"Nah." I licked my lips anxiously. "I think I need some air."

Mum nodded in understanding, knowing that it was serious if I didn't even want a cup of the ambrosia on earth, and I left the room for a walk.

Linda... she couldn't die. Not now, not after everything we'd all been through. Jay... Jay would be crushed. I almost broke down at the thought. I'd even become quite attached to my Godmother myself. I wanted to get to know her outside the barriers of a hospital ward, wanted to really become part of Jay's family...

She couldn't die!

When I re-entered the waiting room, I didn't feel much better. Dad was sitting in the corner, staring blankly at the wall, a cold mug of tea cupped in his fingers. Small ripples in the surface reflected his shaking hands. My whole chest clenched.

"Where's mum and Jay?" I asked tentatively. He jumped, startled from his thoughts, cold tea dripping down his fingers as he placed the cup on the table.

"Eh, mum's in there with Linda," he muttered, wiping his fingers on the coffee stained armrest. I nodded.

"And Jay is...?"

"Jay... I think he said something about going to the church..."

My jaw dropped. "He's where?"

After a quick explanation from dad, and a conformation from the doctors, I sprinted up the stairs to the next floor. Situated in the brightest corner of the hospital was a small, nondenominational church, for the religious patients and relatives. My head was spinning. Jay was an atheist himself... so what on earth was he doing in the church?

I pushed open the door quietly, feeling extremely out of place as I entered the silent room. It was scarcely furnished; a few rows of long benches; a smattering of abstract paintings; a simple wooden alter at the centre of the room. And kneeling in front of it, was my shivering boyfriend.

I knelt down beside him, ignoring my flipping stomach. "Hey. What's up?"

Jay looked up at me, tears trickling from his eyes slowly, glistening in the sedative glow cast by stained glass windows.

"I... nothing. Nothing."

"Ok," I said, knowing he probably wouldn't want to be queried any further. After a few seconds of staring at the crucifix with a dim interest, curiosity got the better of me and the question leapt from my tongue.

"I thought you were an atheist," I probed eventually. Jay's steady breathing suddenly choked, and I immediately wished I hadn't asked.

"I'm... I'm not Catholic, Ash," he told me, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "But... but there's got to be something out there! Something, someone... This can't be all there is to life! This can't be it! It can't be..."

He clenched his fists, while I stared at him, my whole body clogged with tears.

"There's got to be someone out there that can save my mum," he whispered. And the tears started falling freely. We sat in silence for a few minutes, my arm wrapped securely around his shaking shoulders, him sobbing into my shoulder loudly. After another five minutes of this, I tenderly peeled my arm from his body and did something unbelievable.

I clasped my hands.

"Ok..." I sighed, then wiped the back of my eyes. "Ok..."

I could see Jay watching me curiously through a river of tears, but I didn't let that stop me. Instead, I blessed myself the way we'd been taught in school, and turned my leaking eyes up to the alter.

"Ok, God," I said firmly, somehow managing to hold a steady tone despite my real emotional turmoil. "This is weird. Uh, ok... As you might have guessed seeing as you're like, the all-seeing eye or whatever, I really don't know how to do this praying lark. Basically because I haven't been to mass in years and I don't plan to make a habit of this. But yeah. I ain't here to beg for forgiveness and all that shit, so you can get that idea outta your big imaginary brain right now before you get any ideas."

Jay let out a small squeaky laugh in the background, but I didn't respond, instead focusing on my prayer.

"It's funny," I said lamely. "One of the few things I remember from mass is that real prays should be selfless. I guess this probably sounds like a selfless prayer, but it isn't. It really isn't. I'm praying for Jay, because it's fucking killing me to see him like this. Hurting like this. Hell, I know that Jay's, uh, gay and all that, but really... other than that he's bloody perfect! So, uh, if this is your way of like, 'punishing' him or whatever, then God... you're kind of a dick."

I squeezed my eyes shut, almost expecting to be struck down by God's fiery raging fist in the form lightening or something. But it didn't happen, so I took that as a cue to carry on.

"It's just... Jay and Linda... they don't deserve this shit. Hell, no one does. But, uh, like I said, if this is a punishment, then... I'll gladly offer myself up on a silver platter to you. Strike me with lightening, whatever. But Linda and Jay? They're good people."

Jay sniffed loudly beside me, the snivel echoing off the pure white walls.

"I don't normally pray," I continued, my voice on the verge of breaking as I reached the end of my freestyle prayer. "Heck, I don't ever pray. But this shit means a lot to Jay. So, uh, if I only ever ask you for one thing, God, let it be this... Jay and Linda... They need a miracle. Please."

With that, I let my hand fall loosely to my sides. I couldn't stop trembling, no matter how hard I tried. Shaking my head, I pushed myself up stiffly into standing position. Jay imitated me, his lip quivering.

"Ash?" His voice didn't even sound vaguely like Jay. I swallowed.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I, um... thank you."

"Uh, no bother," I replied, somewhat awkwardly. "Come on," I said, linking my hand with his. "Let's go back to the ward."

When we got back to the waiting room, the doctors quickly urged Jay back into the ward. Apparently, his mum was almost delirious but still wanted to speak to him. I decided to give them some respect and hung back, opting to eavesdrop on my parent's urgent hushed conversation instead.

"But we can't just put him into care!" mum hissed, wiping her streaming eyes.

"Well, what else can we do? His own father isn't worth the air he breathes," dad spat venomously. Mum pursed her lips, still crying.

"We could... we could..."

"You're talking about Jay," I cut in boldly. Dad flinched in surprise and mum swallowed suddenly, her eyes regarding me cautiously, wary of my steady tone.

"Well, yes..." dad said. "Ash, Linda... she isn't very likely to make it. And we need to discuss what would be the best option for Jay if that happens."

"What d'you mean!?" I interrupted. "He's staying with us, isn't he? I mean, he's got to!"

Mum blinked back a few tears. "Ash, do you have any idea how expensive it is to look after one child, never mind two?"

"I don't care!" I yelled, astonishing them both. "He can... he can be my birthday and Christmas present for the rest of my life! Forever! And... and... he can top and tail with me! Or I could sleep on the couch... or in the garage! Or... something!"

Mum bit her bottom lip so hard she drew blood, while dad placed a firm but gently hand on my shoulder.

"Ash? Are you sure you know what you're saying?" mum double checked. "I've... I've never seen you so determined about anything in your whole life. Not even that bloomin' bike you desperately wanted for your sixth birthday."

"Well no shit, Sherlock!" I cried indignantly. "That bloody bike doesn't even come close to Jay! I swear mum, I've never wanted anything, or anyone more in my whole entire life–!"

A slight gasp behind me caused me to whirl round, still red in the face. Jay was standing just in front of the door between the waiting room and the ward, the nurses and doctors rushing into the room behind him in a blurry parade of blue coats.

"Oh my God," I moaned, highly embarrassed. "Please tell me you didn't hear any of that..."

But Jay simply strode towards me and pulled me into a tight hug.

"Uh... can't we just forget this ever happened?" I asked delicately. Jay's figure vibrated in silent laughter, his head buried in my bony shoulder.

"No," he said. I blushed.

"What!?"

"No," he repeated. "I'm never forgetting that. I- I love you, Ash."

"Uh, I love you too, dude," I mumbled, patting him uneasily on the back, very aware of my mum sobbing quietly in the background, and my dad staring resolutely at the tiled floor, blushing furiously.

Not anywhere near as much as I was, of course.

"Jay McCallion?"

A tired looking nurse poked her head around the doorframe, her eyes downcast. Jay swallowed and detangled himself from my arms.

"Yeah?"

"I'm very sorry, but... but Linda McCallion just passed away. I really am sorry."

My whole chest constricted as Jay took a deep breath and sat down on the sofa, his head in his hands. And hot tears began scolding down my cheeks.

But the salty droplets weren't for the Godmother I'd just lost. They weren't for the close friend of my father's that had just passed away, or the practically-sister my mother had known.

They were for Linda McCallion, the strong, brave mother my boyfriend had the fortune to know. And they were for Jay, the amazing, now orphaned boy who had lost the most important woman in the world to him.

I was crying for Jay.