*Disclaimer - I do not own any of the members of 'N Sync (nor would I ever really want to) they belong to their respective owners. I do, however, own all fictional characters such as Rachel, Carli, Mike, Ashley, Devon and Blake. Plagiarism is still forbidden, just like the Lambada, so please don't do it. Thank you.

The pain was so intense That it was mind consuming. Nothing had ever been this painful before, nor was anything ever going to be again. Nurses rushed around the room, barely subdues looks of concern on their faces. Something was seriously, desperately wrong. They had paged the attending surgeon nearly an hour ago for a consult, but he hadn't made his appearance yet. A nurse monitored the machine spread throughout the emergency room.

The woman in the bed let out a distressed groan as she clutched her abdomen. A fine sheen of perspiration covered every inch of skin that wasn't incased in the hospital gown she now wore. Panic seemed to seep from her every pore. Her mind couldn't concentrate on anything through the thick haze of unadulterated agony and fear. Her eyes, at half mast, had the somewhat distinct gleam of barely repressed delirium. The waves of pain came with the force of a hurricane and left with the same force, coming closer and closer together with each passing moment. Even through the pain, she knew something was horribly wrong.

"Where's my husband?" she cried out clutching her abdomen again, her face contorted in a grimace as another contraction washed over her body.

"We phoned him nearly three hours ago. He said he was on the next flight to Orlando." one of the nurses soothed in a reassuring voice.

She couldn't do this alone. She couldn't bare the pain without him by her side. Another bought of contractions wracked her body, causing all her muscles to tighten to the point of snapping. She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to take control of herself again. He was in Boston with the rest of the group and she knew he would be here as soon as he could, but deep in the back of her mind, she honestly resented him for not being there for her. The pain subsided briefly and she took the opportunity to open her eyes and take a good look around. Her best friend was in the room, talking to one of the nurses. If her husband didn't show up, her best friend would take over the role of birthing coach.

"Oh my God, she's bleeding." one of the nurses observed loudly, panic in her voice. The nurse was painfully new to this whole experience, and it showed. One of the more seasoned nurses reached for the phone and dialed a number quickly then demanded that the attending surgeon report to the ER room three immediately. The nurse slammed the phone down then rushed to the woman's side.

The door opened and an elderly man, maybe in his late forties, rushed into the room. The woman cried out harshly, again, her eyes tightly closed as she cradled her protruding abdomen in her arms. She couldn't lose them now, not now. They were coming too early, nearly a month and a half premature, but her doctor had told her that most twins didn't carry full term, so it was nothing to worry over. The surgeon quickly looked her over then demanded she be taken up to the operating room. He glanced down at her with concern and noticed that the woman had passed out with the shock the pain had caused her system.

He rushed into the hospital's emergency room, his face fatigued with obvious concern and panic. He walked over to the admitting desk and demanded to know where his wife was. She informed him calmly that his wife was in surgery and a doctor would let him know the details in a few moments. He raked a hand through his hair and silently cursed himself for not being here when she needed him the most. They both knew that his career as a singer would take him on the road for months at a time, but they had both accepted that three years ago when they had gotten married. Premature. The babies are going to be born way too prematurely.

He paced the small waiting room, not knowing what else to do with himself. The others had stayed in Boston because they had made prior commitments and couldn't get out of them, though everyone had understood why he left. They made no fusses over his immediate need for departure, and had told him they would take care of the curious reporters by telling them the simplified truth. His wife was going into labor. For the first time, he noticed that he was soaked from head to foot. He had been oblivious to the rain on the ride from the airport to the hospital. Small puddles were left behind each time his foot moved. He glanced around the room at the other people suffering over a loved one in silence, all of their faces as drawn as his.

The phone call had been brief and to the point, and had put a fear in him so intense that it was virtually indescribable. She was in labor and there were some difficulties. They wouldn't specify what kind of difficulties, only saying that a doctor would give a more detailed explanation when he arrived at the hospital. He resumed pacing, glancing at the clock every few seconds, waiting for someone to come and tell him what was going on with his wife.

He hadn't had the courage to tell the others that something was wrong with her. They would have wanted to join him in Orlando, just because that was the way they were. Had always been. For years the rest of the group had been his family, his support system. Whenever anything went wrong, they were always there to help pick up the pieces. They had done so, many times in fact, without his having to ask. They were just there, like he had been for them, helping them stumble through life like most people often do. He didn't want to worry them, anyway. It was better if he dealt with this on his own, after all, she was his wife.

He closed his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger to try and relieve some of the pressure that had built up in his head. The beginnings of a migraine had set in, and he wanted to be able to think clearly when he saw her. He wanted to be able to look at her with nothing but love in his eyes. A sad smile crossed his face when he remembered a conversation they had years earlier about how big of a family they had wanted. She loved kids and wanted at least four or five. He loved her and agreed without hesitation, for he loved children also.

A young man in a white lab coat walked into the waiting room and glanced around, his eyes finally resting on the young man in such obvious pain and confusion. It was his wife's regular doctor.

"How is she?" he inquired immediately.

"She's up in the operating room." Dr. Johnson answered with a sigh. "As you know, there were some difficulties. The babies were inverted, what is commonly known as breech birth, and because we didn't catch it in time, it caused a lot of internal damage. She has some hemorrhaging occurring. But, there is some good news and some bad news."

"Alright," he nodded, folding his arms across his chest, waiting to hear what the doctor had to say.

"The babies are going to pull through this just fine. They will have to remain at the hospital for a few weeks, just to make sure they're healthy and partially to get their weight up. Now, listen to me carefully. She might not make it through this. I know she's a fighter, and she's a very strong person, but there has been a lot of detrimental damage to her body." Dr. Johnson stated softly with a shake of his head.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, a pained expression controlling his face.

"She's lost a lot of blood, and we're not sure if the transfusions are going to help her at this point. I'm only telling you this because you deserve to hear the truth, and she's never been one for wanting things sugar coated. I thought you needed to know right away so it wouldn't be that huge of a shock if worse came to worst." Dr. Johnson stated, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. He felt like he had been hit with a ton of bricks, all the air leaving his lungs in a whooshing breath. He clutched at his chest as if it had been pulled from the cavity.

"When can I see her?" he questioned, tears threatening to slip down his unshaven cheeks.

"As soon as she gets out of the O.R." the doctor answered softly. He nodded, raking a hand through his disheveled hair in an agitated motion. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not after all they had gone through together to get this far. It seemed as if everything was against them from the beginning. First his career, then her stubbornness, and after they had gotten married and waited two years to have children, it had been nearly impossible to get pregnant. Dr. Johnson gave the younger man's shoulder a firm squeeze before getting back to his work.

He sat down in a chair, suddenly too weak to stand. His legs seemed to be made of rubber and incapable of supporting his weight. This was too much, all of this happening with such speed that it was hard for him to think of anything. His mind blanked except for the image of her. She was surely too young to die, and God wouldn't be so cruel as to take her away from him or their children now. She would always be imprinted on his brain. He woke up in the morning, seeing her smile in his lingering dreams. He heard her laughter and soft voice with the waves of the ocean. She had changed him, made him whole and he couldn't accept the thought of life without her. His mind rebelled against it, his heart bled for it, and his soul cried out with anguish so deep he was surprised no one heard.

He buried his face in his hands and started the ever annoying game of hurry up and wait. He was going to be alone through this battle. The rest of the guys weren't showing up for another five days. It would be better this way. He didn't know how they would react, or their wives and fiancees would react. They had all grown to adore her and all had formed a family of their own. The guys and their women were one big family, but he didn't want his family around for this tragedy. He couldn't cope of people kept asking how he was doing, so it was better this way.

He glanced down at his watch. It was nearly one in the morning. She had been in surgery for the past two hours. Two hours? Has it really been only two hours? It seems like an eternity has passed. He shook his head, mind drifting and lingering on the things they had done together, for each other.

The song played in his mind, one of her favorites. The one she would listen to at the utmost highest volume on her stereo whenever they fought. Music seemed to calm her soul, keep things sane in an insane world. She had told him after their first year together as a couple, five long years ago, that when she looked at him, she could see music in it's most beautiful form and motion. She loved music as much, if not more, than he did.

He climbed to his feet and walked down the hall, feet dragging and head slightly bent, as if to keep the world from seeing the despair in his eyes. He didn't want pity, he wanted his wife. He found a coffee, tea and hot cocoa machine and reached into his jeans pocket for some change to get a well-needed cup of coffee. Something to warm his body, if not his soul. He stood leaning against the wall. His eyes, bloodshot and feeling as if someone had been cruel and poured sand into them, glanced around the empty hallway. In the distance he could hear people talking in low voices, some were sobbing and others were comforting.

His cellular phone rang, but he paid no attention to it. He didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment. Not when he was feeling so helpless, so terrified, so utterly numb to the world around him. It would most likely scare the caller anyway, besides, if it were important they would keep calling until he became frustrated enough to answer the offending object. Without thinking, he slipped the needed coins into the machine and pressed the 'coffee black' button. The Styrofoam cup dropped down into the cup holder, then filled with the steaming coffee. He took the cup into his hands and leaned back against the wall, his mind wandering to happier times.

He had fought falling in love with her like he had fought for nothing else. He felt he needed to concentrate on his career, which left no room for romantic liaisons. It had been easy at first because for the first year they had known each other, they had argued constantly about everything. If he said it was raining outside, she would say it looked like sunshine to her, just to spite him. She hadn't really changed that much after they had started dating. She still made him think and get hot under the collar over petty little arguments that would eventually make the two burst into uncontrollable laughter. She had never been surreal or meek and that was one of the first things that helped him fall deeply, irrevocably, completely in love with her.

She put up with all his traveling, idiosyncrasies, imperfections and loved him all the more for those very same things. She didn't mind the hoards of female fans and braved the crowds to attend as many of the concern they gave as she possibly could, claiming she loved to see her husband 'in action'. He enjoyed her presence at the concerts and various other media functions such as interviews and filming of videos. He liked being able to glance over and see her give him that private, all-knowing smile that still made his pulse quicken to this day.

They had been together a total of five years, being married for three of those years. She had suggested that they get married on the day the met, which seemed only fitting. So, on June fifth in front of their family and friends, they spoke the traditional wedding vows. The ceremony had been beautiful, the small church decorated in white roses and baby's breath. She had been a vision in her gown and he nearly stopped breathing as he watched her father escort her down the isle. Tears had silently slipped down her cheeks when he spoke his vows, his eyes never leaving her. As she spoke her vows, he had to laugh softly, she had stumbled over the word 'obey', her eyes shooting friendly sparks.

The reception had been just as beautiful, if not a little more chaotic and laughter filled. He stood with the rest of the group, posing for pictures for one of the entertainment magazines while he talked and received congratulatory slaps on the back. His eyes drifted to her every few seconds, and she always felt his eyes on her, and turned to give him a small smile. They had danced to Journey's ballad 'Faithfully', because it had fit so perfectly with their relationship. It still did.

Strip tease music had filled the air, signaling the tradition of removing the garter. He had blushed a deep crimson color when she lifted her skirt up inch by inch, loud cat calls and wolf whistles spurring her on.

The group had decided to take a two month hiatus before returning to the recording studio to lay down some new tracks on an upcoming album, so he had decided to take her on an extended honeymoon. They had spent a week in Venice, a week in Rome, a week in a small town in Scotland, and a week in Casablanca. Throughout their honeymoon, he had never felt so relaxed or so happy in his life. It had been one of the most tranquil times he could remember. They lounged around and did whatever took their fancy for the moment. Sometimes never even leaving their suite.

He shook his head, bringing him back to the unforgiving, unrelenting cold rush of reality. The coffee he held in his hand was now ice cold. He tossed it into the garbage barrel a few feet away and grimaced when his cell phone rang again. He pulled it out and glanced down at the incoming phone number. It was one of the guys.

"Hello?"

"Hey doting father, am I an uncle yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Whoa, what's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Your voice. You sound dead. Something happen to the little lady? The babies? What?"

"I've been told the babies will be just fine. My wife is up in surgery right now, so I don't know how she's doing."

"Surgery? What? Explain."

"There's nothing to explain. There were some problems and they needed to correct it with surgery. It's no big deal."

"The hell it's not. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"I didn't want to worry any of you."

"Cop out. We're on our way."

"No, listen, I'll be fine and so will she. Besides, you have all those interviews to deal with. The media is unforgiving when it come to standing them up."

"I can't believe you're talking like this when.....fine. We'll stay two more days, but after that, we're on a plane to Orlando."

"Okay."

"You need anything?"

"Yeah. My wife."

"I'm sorry, man."

"Don't be. Look, I gotta go. I'll call you later." he sighed then quickly pressed the disconnect button. He had almost lost it on the phone. They were already worried enough as it was now, they didn't need to know that he was close to his breaking point. He glanced down at his watch. Nearly three-thirty in the morning. He sighed, shaking his head and stepped back into the waiting room. A few people were camped out on the couches, sleeping fitfully while they waited for any kind of news.

He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes, willing his brain to shut down if only for a few moments. He sighed tiredly, his eyes closing briefly. This was harder than he expected. He knew that expecting fathers were nervous because of everything that goes with having a baby, but this was boarder lining ridiculous. He sighed again, leaning back in the chair, hoping someone would soon tell him he could see his wife. About five a.m., a nurse walked over to him and told him he could see his wife. He followed the directions she had given him and found his wife's room with little trouble.

He stood in the doorway for a second, just looking at her pale and drawn face. She was dying, he could see it. Dr. Johnson stood at the foot of her bed, reading her chart with a critical eye.

"She's not going to pull through this one, is she?" he questioned the doctor softly as he walked into the room.

"I'm afraid not. She's still pretty dopey from the anesthesia, but she is coherent enough to talk." Dr. Johnson answered, his eyes filled with sympathy.

"Thanks." He replied as the doctor left the room, taking the chart with him. He walked over to the bed, inanely, almost afraid to wake her. He sat on the bed, leaning back against the pillows and gently took her into his arms, nestling her head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, his lips resting against her hair. Never in his life had he ever liked hospitals, now he hated them with a passion. She stirred in his arms, snuggling closer to him, somehow knowing in her drug induced sleep that it was him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, keeping the burning tears at bay. He couldn't lose it in front of her. She would need him to be strong.

Sunlight slowly filtered through the partially open blinds as the sun rose for the morning. She opened her eyes groggily, without moving a muscle. They had pumped her so full of pain medication that she could barely feel a thing. Her husband was here now and he was holding her in his slightly trembling arms. She could feel his fear, almost as if it were a tangible thing that could be held, cradled. His heart thudded heavily in his chest and she knew without even looking at him that he was scared and concerned.

"The babies?" she whispered hoarsely.

"A boy and a girl. They're in the nursery, sleeping." he answered softly, his lips brushing subtly against her temple. She nodded, snuggling closer to her husband's warmth, his love. He tightened his arms around her, a single anguished tear slipping down his cheek. The roaring silence of defeat, fear, love, knowledge and acceptance filled the air, causing electricity around the couple.

"Names. We need to pick names." she stated suddenly as she linked her hand with his.

"I love you." he countered with.

"I love you." she returned with a smile. She had to smile for him, she didn't want him to see the pain and aggravation in her eyes. She wanted him to remember her, smiling up at him with love in her eyes. The couple remained silent for a few moments just feeling the rampaging emotions wash through the room, not unlike a powerful tidal wave. Happiness, fear, sensuality, pain, pleasure and all the other emotions that hadn't been crassly identified yet by the human mind, heart and soul. He presses a kiss to her temple, again, and closed his eyes with a sigh.

"How about Jasper for our daughter?" he inquired.

"I like that name." she nodded tiredly as she brought their joined hands to her cheek. "I also like Randy for our son."

"All right. Jasper and Randy it is." he sighed pulling her closer still. He didn't want to let go. He never wanted to let go. What he really wanted to do is curse the heavens that deemed it necessary to take her from h im in this most cruel and unusual way.

He pressed his lips against her hair, eyes tightly shut and his heart slowly breaking with each passing second. His fingertips slowly stroked up and down her bare arm, causing her to shiver slightly. She reached up and traced his jaw line with the back of her knuckles, his stubbled cheeks and jaw giving way to their immense differences. The contrast between her softness and his roughness reminded her of so many other times when he had been lazy and had decided not to shave. His stubble had left little red marks wherever he kissed her, something that she had loved.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"No." he shook his head. "Don't be."

"I wasn't strong enough." the tears trickled down her flushed cheeks.

"That's bullshit. Don't say that, don't even think it." he cupped her face with his hand, forcing her to look at him.

"Forgive me." she gazed into his adoring eyes.

"There's nothing to forgive." he countered pressing his lip against her forehead.

"There's everything to forgive." she continued with a slight shake of her head.

"Like what?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't been the easiest of people to live with, or love. I've constantly argued with you, just for the sake of arguing. I haven't been that great of a wife. And I'm breaking a promise to you." she winced as she leaned back on an elbow to look up at him.

"You have been the perfect wife to me. You've taken care of me, you've supported me in all my decisions. You loved me unconditionally. That's why I love you. You make life interesting, to say the least, and that's another reason why I love you. Now, what's with this broken promise?" he countered bringing her hand to his lips.

"I promised you I would never leave you." her voice broke.

"Hush, stop right there." he pressed a finger to her lips to staunch the flow of words, his voice soothing and calming her frayed nerves. "You haven't broken any promises to me."

"I don't want to die here." she pleaded suddenly.

"All right. I'll go talk to Dr. Johnson." he sighed then covered her lips with his, in a tender kiss. He reluctantly eased himself from the hospital bed, careful not to jostle her unnecessarily, then walked from the room to search for Dr. Johnson. Moments after her husband left, two young nurses walked in, each holding an infant. The young mother held out her arms and the babies were handed over to her. Jasper and Randy's sleeping faces soothed her tormented soul like the most healing balm.

"My children," she started softly, gazing down lovingly at the pair. "My darling babies, you will grow up and never really know me, but I know you'll both do wonderful things. I just know you will. I know I won't be there to coach you to walk, to kiss your hurts and fears away, and for that I am eternally regretful." she continued. She was gazing so intently at the infants cradled in her arms that she didn't notice her husband standing in the doorway, tears gliding down his cheeks.

"Some say I've made the ultimate sacrifice by giving my life for yours, but it wasn't a sacrifice to me. I would rather leave her knowing that you two beautiful babies are here and living well, then be kept on this planet and know that I didn't do everything possible to help save you. Never forget, my darlings, that I love you. That I will always love you, no matter where it is that I might be. And I will always be a part of you, in your hearts. I will be forever there, cheering you on from above, and I will always be there to comfort you in any way I can. But I have a favor to ask of you while I'm gone. Take care of your daddy for me. He'll need all the love you two can provide, because this time is hard for him too. He loves you two so much, and I know you'll be able to help the wounds caused here today, to heal without scaring. Now, when you're older you'll have to understand that he probably won't be the perfect father. I know he'll be over protective, but that's just him and it's because he loves you, so be patient with him. He's a wonderful husband and I know he'll be an equally wonderful father. Just remember to have patience, because he's still learning after all. So, Jasper, don't get to unnerved when he gives all your dates the third degree. He's only doing it to protect you. That, and he doesn't know what it's like to be a teenage girl. And Randy, be kind if he doesn't see things your way. He's probably trying to make sure you don't make the same mistakes he did as a kid. Take care of him, and tell him always that you love him. And I'll make sure that he tells you everyday that I love you." she kissed each of their tiny foreheads then rested her head back against the pillows, eyes closing with exhaustion.

He stepped over to the bed and gazed down at his family. He swiped at the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand. He stored the vision into his mind, hoping he would always remember it. The same two nurses came back in and took the infants back to the nursery.

"Where would you like to go?" he inquired of his wife who gazed up adoringly at him.

"The beach." she smiled weakly. He nodded as he started preparing her for the twenty minute drive. He helped her into the waiting wheelchair and pushed her to the nurses station where she filled out all the release forms. Soon she was relaxing in the rental car's passenger seat as he drove to her favorite beach in all of Florida. Once there, he picked her up and carried her to the sand and sat down, cradling her like he had his children.

"I want you to always remember something." she started as she gazed up into his lucid eyes.

"What's that?" he inquired pulling her closer to him so he could feel her heart beat reassuringly.

"I love you. And I don't regret anything. Not one thing." she told him, cupping his face in her hands and bringing him down to kiss her. The kiss held and lasted for minutes, neither wanting the intimacy to end just yet. Soon, it would be only memories, but he couldn't deal with that now. He needed the actions, the warmth now. He needed to create new memories that he could grip in the harshness of life after she was gone. Her skin was still soft, and she still had the scent of Vanilla, even through the medicinal stench. He pressed his forehead against hers, and gave her a brave smile.

"When I first saw you, I swear I thought you were the devil incarnate. Little did I know that you were actually a witch who cast a spell on me." he teased her, wanting her to smile for him.

"Who cast a spell on whom?" she raised an eyebrow and he laughed. They sat in each others arm talking of the past and of their children. He promised to tell them every day that though their mother was in heaven, she loved them. After a while she became tired and he rocked her to sleep, knowing she wouldn't wake up this time. He had done this so many times for her because of her nightmares. He had become her talisman, and he had rocked her to sleep while singing softly to her every chance he got because it was something he loved to do for her. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and she smiled in her sleep as her chest slowly rose and fell. His legs were starting to lose feeling with the lack of circulation, but he didn't care. He wanted the last thing his wife to know was the shelter of his arms. He watched her sleep, her breathing becoming shallower with each passing minute before it stopped all together.

His heart lurched and he tightly closed his eyes against the burning tears that had been a constant since the night before. His heart broke with each breath that he took and his body trembled with a loss so great that no words would ever be able to describe it. He turned his face up to the heavens and let out an anguished cry, the tears flowing down his cheeks as he kept rocking his wife. He wanted to curse the heavens, he wanted to hate them for taking her away from him, but he didn't have the energy. He didn't even have the energy to cry anymore. All he could do was endure the pain, embrace it, make it a part of him. Take care of her like I couldn't. She deserves to be happy. Please take care of her. And don't let her forget that I'll always love her.

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