"Chris brought him in a couple hours ago. Ryan was unconscious—barely even breathing. Apparently he coughed up a lungful of blood. He hasn't fully woken up since he was brought in, but he had a fit just after Chris left."

"It's not good. I... I hate to be the one to say it, but this... It's really bad, guys."

"What is it? What's wrong with him?"

A deep breath was taken before one of the doctors could start again. "When Chris brought Ryan in, it wasn't hard to see what was wrong with him—from a doctor's perspective. We ran a few tests. We... Ryan has stage three lung cancer."

And, just like that, the room was sealed in a deafening silence. The breaths of the four hitched, and the two doctors before them could only feel remorse.

"I'm sorry, guys."

Chris lost the feeling in his legs and fell back into the chair behind him. His eyes were wide and stared straight at the white tiles as tears clouded his vision. His chest ached, and his throat grew tight and constricted.

Ellie could only hug her mother, muffling her sniffs and whimpers in the sweater she wore. Melina hugged back, squeezing her just as tight as she closed her eyes and inhaled sharply.

Ricky stared at the wall opposite him, his lips parted. If he thought that he was worried for his friend earlier, it was worse at that moment. In an instant, it seemed that what was left of the good things in his life slowly started to crumble. He knew the two doctors—two of his best friends—were trying to be as cautious and as kind as they could, but Ricky's world still seemed to stop.

"I'm sorry."

Devin and Angelo left the room in silence, leaving the four alone. It seemed as if the air had left with them, along with everything else that was once in the room.

Ricky found it hard to breathe, and he had to silently excuse himself from the room. He stumbled towards the door, barely making it out before his legs gave out. With his back against a wall, he slid down it until he was sitting on the ground. Ignoring anyone that passed him, Ricky dropped his head and let out a choked sob and warm tears cascade down his pale cheeks.

He tried to hide the whimpers and sobs by covering his mouth and biting down on the sleeve of his hoodie, but the thought of his best friend—his brother—dying haunted him. Memories from when he and Ryan first met seemed to flash before his eyes, only making the tears worse. Everything they ever did seemed to fly by, and, no matter how hard he tried, Ricky couldn't stop them.

Deep down, he wanted to believe that there was a possibility that Ryan could pull through with the right medical attention, but faith was a luxury Ricky couldn't bring himself to hold. He wanted to have faith, but his life was too far gone to believe in it.

So, there he sat, his head buried in his arms and his hoodie soaked in his own tears. His mind was filled with the feeling of loss and there was nothing that could change that. No amount of faith could bring him back from this feeling.

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A/N: Shorter chapter, sorry... So, I decided I will update this once every week (at the most, nine days, hopefully). I've made a new account and I'm spending a lot more time on that one this this one so far. I'm having more success with writing on that one, too, so it's kind of my main priority at the moment. Unfortunately, I'm slowly becoming less motivated with MIW fics and more motivated with ones of other fandoms. But, that doesn't mean I'm completely forgetting about this account.
Sorry for the long ass A/N..
xxx