"Doctor...Roslin...?" He managed to utter with some difficulty, his throat felt raw with dryness although there was no thirst.
"Are you okay?" she asked, and there was such tenderness behind her voice that Harris instantly recalled his mother's voice once more.
"I'm...uh... where?"
He attempted to pull himself up to sit but was gently pushed back down by Roslin. Harris complied with the pressure as his breathing steadied. He turned his head around to see the man whose daughter had visited him the day before.
Unlike the previous day though, Harris was the one who was being looked at with pity. It was a strange feeling to be pitied by a person that had almost overdosed not even twenty-four hours earlier. He must have been looking absolutely terrible.
"How are you feeling?" Roslin asked, again quite warmly.
There was a lump in his throat that prevented him from saying a word. More than that, his eyes were burning, not from his condition but from shame. The shame of his position, of the fact that he had landed himself back here in the hospital.
He had come full circle, and this time it was his own doing because the person he'd blamed before was the one who stood by him now with her face laced with such concern. Harris looked away from Roslin, his hands were too weak to wipe away the tears welling in his eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded.
"I'm so sorry," her voice sounded defeated. Yet, it was still much better than the empty assurances she had once given. At least the concern she had now made Harris feel confident enough to face her again.
"Me too," he said honestly.
For a moment neither of them spoke. It was of no use to talk about something that they could do nothing about. But for Harris to feel in a safe place was something he was extremely grateful for. And Roslin's silent but understanding eyes were just what he wanted to look into, a place with a friend. Or at least that's what she suddenly felt like to him.
"So, um, what happened?" He finally asked once he could bring himself up to controlling his voice.
"You passed out. I brought you in here immediately. It's been a few hours actually," she informed him. It was six in the morning. Roslin had to have pulled him all the way to the car, driven an unconscious Harris in the middle of the night, and lugged him all the way inside the hospital. With that realization, he felt the shame wash down on himself all over again.
"Thank you." He muttered apologetically.
"It was the least I could've done."
Her understanding began to bother him now. He appreciated it but didn't know what to make of it. And he was certain of what she was about to suggest.
"Harris... you really need to reconsider getting the treatment," said Roslin cautiously.
The reluctance in Harris served as a provider of strength for him as he found himself feeling slightly reinvigorated to turn her down.
"No," he said firmly and even managed to lift himself up to a sitting position. "I'm not the one that needs help."
"Auden has an addiction, Harris. You have an illness." Now it seemed Roslin's sympathy was running thin as she sounded more assertive. "We can try and help him but the ultimate decision is whether he wants to go down a destructive path or not. You don't have that option."
"Of course I do. I'm choosing not to go through with it."
"That's not a choice, that's a suicide," said Roslin angrily. "I just don't get why you're so fixated on this ridiculous assumption that you're choosing to live. You're not. You could live so much longer. Just think– "
"What would be the point in living out what remains of the time I have in pain? Unless you're telling me there's a hundred-percent possibility of me being cured..." Harris had simply said that to stump Roslin in her replies but in spite of himself, a small part of him hoped she would answer positively. But looking at her glum expression indicated he was right. And he hated it.
"There's a chance..." She said as if pleading with him.
"At least if you help Auden you could see him live, be happy, and attend his wedding, I guess," Harris said, the dejectedness returning to him, although he tried to hide it behind a look of acceptance. "With me, it would just be further heartbreak. And believe it or not, I would like to see you be successful."
"If you don't get treated, you probably won't get to see it."
"I'm not the only one who needs help," he said looking around at the rest of the patients.
"...but I want to help you," Roslin said in a small voice, Harris saw her trying to look away from him, mirroring how he had a few minutes ago.
At least now he could be certain of her genuineness, it was a pity they had never been on the same page at the same time. Back when he'd needed her for his treatment, she'd been distant, and now when she was prepared to give everything she had, it didn't matter to him anymore. He felt a measure of gratitude rush into him as he touched her hand.
"It's okay, doctor," said Harris with a small smile.
At his touch she looked back, her eyes welling up just as his had been.
"Told you to call me by name. So..." she sniffed, removing her glasses to rub her eyes. "What now?"
"I think we have a coffee shop we need to be at today, right?" He reminded her. It felt as if from a past life when they'd been sitting at the dinner table making plans, back when his situation hadn't felt so real.
"Oh, yeah," Roslin remembered, although looked as if she completely hated the idea. "But you can't be serious, you want to go there in this condition?"
"I'm getting up, aren't I?" He pointed out as he began to leave.
"Harris, you can't be–"
"You know I'm leaving, so you could either help me out or let me be." He struggled to his feet.
Knowing it was a lost cause to argue, Roslin helped him up. Harris splashed himself with as much water as he could -- he wanted to wash off the shame.
He then returned outside and put on a big smile to show to Roslin.
"Like it never happened, huh?"
"You might say that," she humored him half-heartedly. Although Harris could tell she could notice his blotched eyes.
"You could let me borrow your makeup, help hide it." He addressed the matter with a joke.
"You're asking the wrong person for that. Let's just get going," she stopped with the nicety. Harris didn't feel much like staying out of character for too long either.
"I'll get home by myself."
"You've got another thing coming if you think that."
"Roslin, please," he said firmly. Now that he was standing again, his fatigue was setting in again, and he didn't want to exert himself by arguing. Roslin seemed to think the same as she stepped back and let him leave. "I'll see you there."
"I better hope so."
Harris could feel her eyes watching him leave and pretended as if he wasn't struggling to make his way out of the hospital. As soon as he was clearly out of view, he collapsed into a nearby cab.
He couldn't remember exactly how he had managed to lug himself to his apartment but gratefully dumped himself on the sofa to relax for a few hours. He found it difficult to drift to sleep because of the pain, so he turned on the TV and watched the old clips of his family, and heard the voice of his mother.
Despite all the pain he felt, he felt his loneliness ebb away as he saw his mother's face – a smile protruding at the corner of his mouth – and closed his eyes. Her voice served as a lullaby to him as he finally was able to rest.
His phone rang loudly as Harris jolted awake. He had 7 missed calls. He was late for the coffee shop.
"Hello?" He mumbled into the phone.
"Harris, are you all right?"
"Oh, Roslin... yeah, I'm fine, sorry I overslept. I'll be there soon."
"Okay, well your friends are here so... hurry up," she said meekly.
Harris could tell she was nervous to mingle with his friends without him. He could relate to it but chuckled at the thought of Hank teasing Roslin for her nervousness.
"Come on, you dweeb, I thought you were the one who loved walking," he heard Auden's voice from the TV. He'd forgotten to switch it off.
The clip playing was of the time Auden had taken Harris for a surprise on his birthday. A day out in the woods. He'd wanted to provide the seclusion Harris loved so much along with the companionship of a friend.
He watched fondly as they moved to the top of a hill and a breathtaking view of the forest presented itself, a shot of the cabin Auden owned was also visible. Harris had greatly appreciated such an effort Auden had taken to make his birthday memorable; many people didn't get Harris's need for seclusion but Auden was one of the few to show a level of understanding. And he'd embraced that part of Harris, as had the rest of his friends.
There was the time he'd taken Hank with him for a walk. But him being the gym trainer he was, they ended up jogging the whole time and Harris ended up with a stitch in his chest as Hank recorded it humorously.
"I should come along with you more, at least for a laugh." He joked over a shot of Harris chugging down a whole bottle of water. Harris splashed it onto the camera as the recording ended.
His life could be divided into many separate phases. Harris found it amazing how easily he'd overlooked these times. The cancer had torn apart so much from him, and though it was back, he was adamant he would beat it by being there for his friends this time. And Auden needed him to be there, he was sure Hank and the others would be too, but Harris saw something in Roslin that made him confident she could be instrumental.
There was also the fact that Roslin had suffered such a similar trauma as him, to some degree he understood why she'd given up. Her daughter had been proud of her stature as a doctor and she'd led her down.
He remembered how frantic Roslin had been when the plaque was under threat. Objects of remembrance are what bind us from this life with the next, thought Harris. His memory whisked between the cowboy hat and the Mickey Mouse wristwatch.
Harris felt Roslin could change her outlook on life once she saw how wonderful it could be with people in it; there could be many lives saved if she found that compassion in herself again. He also had an inkling there was something significant in the medicine room she so rigidly kept shut and refused to discuss.
He was snapped out of his reverie as his phone blared once more.
"Please hurry up." Read the text message Roslin had sent.
Harris quickly picked himself up and departed for the coffee shop. Unfortunately, it was located at the far end of the city, and by the time he reached there, some time had passed.
The place looked less like a coffee shop and more like a daycare center. It was brightly lit, the walls were plastered with yellow paper resembling a sunny day. It was a long room that extended to the far end, a booth stood to the left while several tables – in zebra-themed black and white – were scattered all around. There were a variety of cups decorated on the wall, and the scent of coffee captured the room. At the far end stood a children's playpen, with small swings and slides. And it was there that Harris spotted the party he had come to visit.
He stared at them surprised as those adults laughed on the swings while taking pictures of one another. What was surprising for Harris wasn't that his friends were clowning around– he was used to that – it was the sight of Roslin laughing along with the rest of them. No sign of nervousness or anxiety, simply hilarity and comfortableness.
"Harris!" They all shouted in delight as they saw him. Roslin broke away from the rest to greet him.
"How are you?"
"Not as good as you, I can say that." He said amusedly.
"I don't know how we ended up there." Roslin smiled, slightly in embarrassment.
"Nice place, this." Harris pointed out the number of children and families.
"Yeah..." she said slowly, and there was a noticeable hint of melancholy in her features. Harris had figured out exactly how Roslin knew this place as soon as he'd entered. "I used to come here with..."
"I understand," he assured her as they shared a smile.