Pete's POV
Jaime took a while to come out of the washrooms. I looked over at Ashlee.
"Don't look at me like that," Ashlee said to me.
"How come you only try to apologize to him when it's convenient for you?" I asked, frowning. Jaime had made a good point. The first time she "tried" to apologize was when she brought the kids to the hospital for Meagan to collect. Now, because she'd had the kids again, she'd used the opportunity to "try" to apologize.
"You know how things get, Pete. I didn't have a chance."
"Ashlee, he's lived with me since the end of April. You take Bronx and Saint almost every other weekend. You've had months to pop in and apologize."
"It wasn't ever a good time. I wanted to make sure I was able to properly apologize," she said.
"Apologies aren't supposed to be convenient or comfortable. It's November and you're just making a second attempt at a shitty apology. You aren't actually sorry, are you?" I narrowed my eyes at her.
"What do you want from me, Pete? Am I supposed to be thrilled that your long lost girlfriend willed her son to you?"
"He's my son, too, Ashlee," I argued.
"How do you even know for sure?"
I stared at her. She wasn't serious. She couldn't be.
"I think you need to leave. Now," I said.
"Pete, I came to watch the show," she said. "And I brought your kids back. You know. Your sons? Your daughter. Your tiny three year old daughter."
"I don't like what you're implying, Ashlee. And unless you want to be forcibly removed from the arena I suggest you go find your seat and stay there. And when the concert ends, go. Leave. Do not come back here," I was furious.
Ashlee looked at me, crossed her arms and tried to look intimidating. I'd laugh if I wasn't so pissed.
"Dad?" I heard from behind me. Jaime was leaning on the wall, deathly pale. I ran over to him.
"Jaime! What's wrong? What's the matter?"
"I can't do this anymore," he said. He started sliding down the wall. I grabbed him and got him over to the couch. He was unconscious by the time I was able to lay him down. I pulled out my phone and texted Don.
"It's Jaime. My dressing room. Help! 911!"
I hoped he'd know I meant it was an emergency and not to actually call 911. Unless we actually needed it.
"Pete! What can I do to help?" Ashlee said.
"Now you want to help him? Help him by going away. I'm not going to ask you again. You're so worried about our kids. Yes, Ashlee. Our kids. Meanwhile my son is literally fighting for his life. And you're worried about, what exactly? Go away."
I didn't care if she was upset or insulted. Jaime was my priority right now.
Don came running in with his trauma bag and another venue medic.
"What happened?" Don asked.
"He had chemo today. He was throwing up and seemed otherwise alright. I mean, for a kid who just had chemo and has cancer. But he came out of the washroom just now and was pale. He said 'I don't think I can do this anymore' and then passed out as I got him here."
Meagan and the kids came to the doorway and Meagan, seeing Jaime on the couch surrounded by Don, a medic and myself, got the kids' attention and got them out of the way.
"What wrong with Jaime, Mama?" I heard Marvel ask as Meagan picked her up and took the boys away.
"His breathing is pretty shallow, Pete," Don said. "We have oxygen and we could put him on it, see if that helps, but we may have to consider sending him to the hospital."
"Is he giving up?" I asked, my eyes watering. "He promised he wasn't going to give up."
I picked up his hand and sat beside him on the sofa.
"Come on, Jaime. You promised me you were going to fight like hell. You can't give up on me. You can't give up on you. You promised."
His eyelids fluttered, but otherwise, Jaime lay still on the couch. Don and the medic put an oxygen mask on his face while they did a few more assessments. Don said he was going to start an IV because Jaime looked dehydrated and it could be that which made him pass out. I hoped that's all it was.
I sat beside Jaime while Don and the medic did their thing.
"I'll stay with him while you're on stage," Don said.
I suddenly remembered Ethan's sister. I'd wanted Jaime to come bring them down to backstage. He clearly wasn't going to be up to it now. I talked with Patrick and we agreed to get one of the security guards to go get Ashley and Caryn. I'd meet them in the green room instead of the dressing rooms. Patrick, Joe and Andy went to gather up the swag we'd discussed giving to the girls.
I wasn't leaving Jaime's side until I absolutely had to. And I was prepared to cancel the whole show if he needed to be taken to the hospital.
His eyelids fluttered open and he looked around.
"What happened?" He asked, pulling the oxygen mask off his face. Colour was slowly returning to his cheeks.
"You passed out. How do you feel?" I asked.
"Weak, shaky. Shitty," he said, putting his arm over his eyes.
"Jaime," Don said. "Let me take a look at you."
Jaime moved his arm and then noticed the IV.
"What the fuck?" He asked. I smirked.
"You're dehydrated, Jaime," Don said. "Did you have anything to eat or drink today?"
Jaime frowned.
"I can't remember," he said.
"You didn't," Meagan said from the doorway. "Bronx is watching the other two for a minute."
Meagan answered the question I hadn't had a chance to ask. I nodded.
"What?" Jaime said.
"I said, you didn't have anything to eat or drink today. We went to chemo when you woke up, and we came straight here when you were done. You puked and lay down in here."
"Jaime, you have to make sure you stay hydrated," Don said. "You know that."
"I know, I know. It got away from me today."
Don said he'd check back in about ten minutes. He was going to go check a couple of things and then he wanted Jaime to go straight to the bus, have something to drink at least, and sleep.
When Don left I looked at Jaime and made him look at me.
"Jaime, did you mean it when you said you didn't think you couldn't 'do this anymore'?" I asked.
Jaime was quiet. He wouldn't look at me.