Catrina had visited Peter every day now for the past 3 weeks, every hour when she was working. As expected their love grew stronger for each other...they had decided once Peter got out and got better their first date would be a night out on the beach. Like the time before, Mike, Micky and Davy were in with Peter when he woke up. "guys..." he smiled weakily, the I.V. they had him on wasn't sustaining proper nurishment, but if they try to feed him orally he would just through up, his body was really frail looking, he was thin and pale, hardly a contrast to the white sheets. He couldn't even lift his head off the pillow without assitance, it was scaring the guys all to death but C.J. assured them, she wouldn't let anything happen to him.

"Hey Pete'" Mike smirked,

"Happy birthday..." Micky smiled, shoving a small white cake with 1 big custom made candle on top of it in the shape of the number 25...

"Thanks guys..." Peter smirked, just as Catrina walked in, she was about to say something but stopped when she saw the goings on. She just grinned, and walked over to the other side of his bed,

"...come on babe, let's get you forward..." Mike told him, slidding his right hand behind Peters back and his left on his chest, and with Micky doing the same thing on the other side, he pushed him forward so he could blow out his candle. Just as Peters head left the pillow, a clump of blonde hair fell from the back of his head, Mike let out a panicked sigh and looked at Catrina, she just shook her head and mouthed the words, "don't worry, treatment" Mike uneasily nodded back and looked down at Peter just as he blew out the candle. Then they softly laid him back, and started clapping.

"What did you wish fer Pete?" Mike asked,

"...if I tell you Michael, it won't come true..." Peter smirked up at Mike, "...but if you really wanna know...I wished for a hat..."

The 5 of them collectively laughed, then Mike slipped off his green touque and placed it gingerly on top of Peters head. "Thanks Michael..." he smiled, then started coughing...the coughing wracked his whole frail frame to no end, while he was still coughing he banged his fist on the bed 3 times, "Bucket Michael, he needs the bucket..." Catrina quickly told him. Catrina and Peter had worked out this system full of bangs when he was too weak to speak or his throat was parched. Before Peter had finished with the bucket Mike became extremely nervous and excused himself from the room. Catrina looked at Micky with a puzzled expression, "I'll go get 'em" he told her backing out of the room.

He found Mike huddled in a corner. "...Mike, is something wrong man, you flew outta there pretty fast?" Micky asked, Mike looked up at Micky, tears running freely down his face, Micky had to step back...Mike was crying. "...everythings wrong Mick," he cried, "...look at him in there..." gesturing towards Peters room, "He's so sick...and it's all my fault..." Mickys eyes raised in surprise, he didn't know Mike felt that way, "...but why is it your fault Mike, you didn't give him cancer...it's not contagious" "...I feel like I did Mick, I'm the one that told him he should do the therapy. So its my fault if he dies..."he pointed out, "Awe Mike, it's not...don't think that way...if Peter didn't want to have the chemo he would have told you..." "..ok Mick, whatever..." Micky sighed, "...do you just want to go home then, I'll come to pick Davy up later...?" Mike shook his head yes, as he pulled himself up.

Mike waited at the door as Micky explained that they had to go home, that he'd probably be back later and that Mike said bye and happy birthday.

Micky hung around with Mike for a bit then, went back to the hospital. When Peter asked why he left, Micky couldn't lye to him but if he told him the truth he was afraid of what it might do to him, seeing how fragile he was. But after a while Peter caught on, "I'm scaring him, aren't I?" Micky looked down at the ground,

"I am...I should have just forgotten about the therapy...", Mickys head snapped up and his eyes started to bore into Peter,

"WHAT did you say?"

"...look what its doing to him," he countered

"He'll get over it, you have to get better..."

"...ahhh, I don't know, I may just drop it..." Thats when Davy came into the conversation to join Micky in saying,

"No!", "You'll do no such thing, you here me?"Davy exploded, "...how could you even think that way..."

"...I don't know, just look at what its doing to him and you'll see..."

"Listen, I'm telling you now, he'll get over it...you..." Micky looked at him , all the courage and strength he had- directed towards Peter,

"...you have to get better...chemos helping you, and you just have to...you hear me..."his voice cracking at the end.

Both Davy and Peter looked at each other in astonishment, he had never put so much serious emotion into his words, they were always meant to be funny and look on the brighter side of things...but this, this was different.

"...ok, Micky...I hear you..."Peter stopped him.

"...good, now...I have to go..." Micky swallowed hard, backing out...when he was gone Peter and Davy looked at each other, Davy sympathtically

"...looks like thats my que...." he hit his leg, "...C.J. you take care of him and your self...happy birthday Petah..." he greeted walking out.

Micky didn't wait for Davy, but Davy didn't mind, the few blocks he had to walk home would help him clear his head...which he needed to do big time. While Davy walked past a park, he heard the familiar creaking of the swings, he turned his head, stopped and stared at them for a bit, comtemplating whether he should go for a swing..."awe, what the hell..." he said out loud making his way to the swing set. As he sat on the swing he started to pump ever so slowy, then harder so he could catch more air, then harder and harder...harder and harder, till his whole body got into the pumping. Anger fueled most of the pumping, he was angry at himself, at god...why would he let anybody like Peter, so innocent, someone who had never hurt or made fun of anybody else, get such a disease...something that would be a miracle if he got over it, if he didn't die first. he jumped off the swing and landed on his knees, he got up in a rush, "...dammit, why?!?!?!" he screamed into the night, as hot tears started to casade down his cheeks, he briskly wiped them away and started to run home.

Over the next few days the guys didn't visit, but Peter understood completely. They all needed time to cool down...he needed time to go over his life...finding out he had cancer, not telling the guys...the thoughts that he thought during that time. If it wasn't for the cancer playing with his insides like it did, they wouldn't have known...then meeting C.J. the happiness she made him feel, for the first time in months...then seeing how much being around him was wearing down his friends. Damn, did he feel guilty. When the guys did come back did they get a shock...all his hair was gone, and his eye brows. "Pete...Peter..." Mike stuttered walking into the room, Peter opened his eyes,

"hey guys..." he smirked, "...don't worry, I did this voluntarily, Cat has gone home to see if she can find a "touque" that I can wear..." Mike let out a sigh of relief, as he let Davy and Micky in,

"touque...what's that?"

"touque, it's Canadian for wool hat she told me..."

"...she's a Canuck..." Micky asked, smiling

"Yep, she told me a few days ago, she came to the USA to study Medicine at the University of Wisconsin...more money, as well..."

"Huh, ya learn sumthin' every day, don'tcha..." Davy smirked sitting down.