"Hey, Blue, how're you feeling?" Conner asked, pushing his way into the infirmary. The lights were low, Jaime sitting stiffly in the bed, hospital gown not able to conceal the bandage engulfing his upper left arm.

"Fine," Jaime replied flatly, and Conner flipped on the lights, ignoring the dramatic way Jaime hissed and covered his eyes. The bandage was still white and sterile looking, only the tiniest hint of red starting to seep through. It made the wound look so tame like that, not at all like Jaime should be hooked up to IV's and heart monitors.

"How long they give you?" Conner asked, and it came out wrong, too casual. More like 'hey how long till you can come over?' than 'how long until the poison from that bite spreads completely?'

"Six months," Jaime said bitterly, flopping back onto the infirmary bed. Conner took a step forward and noticed the coiling black under Jaime's dark skin.

"Til you-?"

"Yeah," Jaime whispered. "Guess I better start planning my funeral now."

"They leaving you alone yet?" Conner asked, leaning against the side of the recliner.

Jaime squirmed uncomfortably under his hoodie, hands twitching as he tried to resist itching. The black had spread to his collarbone, and his skin was covered in tiny scratches from where he itched in his sleep. His left hand usually had a glove on it to hide the disease, but some asshole kids had stolen it and thrown it in the toilet.

"No, they're all just getting worse. And I'm gonna have to get another glove."

"Want me to go pummel 'em?" Conner asked, smacking his fist into his hand. Jaime flinched.

"I just want everything to be peaceful. I've got four months left."

Con bit his lip. Jaime had four months left- he shouldn't have been worried about letting everything be happy and peaceful and safe. He should be worried about having sex with a bunch of girls and going bungee jumping.

… Then again, that's probably why Jaime's a better person than him.

"Know what? I'll go take care of those fuckheads. You just worry about living your four months to the fullest," Conner said, getting up towards the zetas.

Jaime just sighed, letting his head thump back against the recliner. He stared aimlessly at the ceiling before reaching for the remote and turning on the TV. Adventure Time - nice. One upside to this whole 'dying' thing was that no one really yelled at him anymore for watching cartoons in the middle of the night or flunking a test or eating the last of the ice cream. He picked his knitting needles back up, fingers slipping into familiar patterns. It helped keep him from itching, and this way he could feel useful even though he was too prone to weird twitches to go on missions.

He hadn't told Milagro yet, but he was making little baby clothes for her kids when and if she had them. Tiny little scarves and hats and socks and he was pretty damn proud of them. He was thinking after this he'd start making blankets though. One for Cassie, one for his mom, one for his sis, and then one flipping huge one for the team on movie nights and shit. He'd do that one last.

He snorted at something Finn did on screen, grinning as his fingers flew.

Jaime had three months left.

Conner, of course, was damn determined to make those the best months of Jaime's life. Never mind that Jaime would have been cool with just vegging out watching his favorite shows and trying to keep his food down when the seizures hit.

"All I'm saying is that I can't go on that mission with Cassie- because I can't fly and Sphere is a little… y'know," Conner explained to Nightwing, who had his arms crossed in tight determination.

"I can't afford to take you out, the only one who could is Blue and he's-"

"Perfect, I'll switch with him," Conner said, rubbing his hands together as Cassie entered the main room, ready for her mission.

"Cassie, there's been a change, you're going with Blue instead," Conner said, giving her a playful nudge and wink. Nightwing pinched the bridge of his nose, counting to ten under his breath.

Jaime came into the room, flanked by La'gann and Karen who he was supposed to be going on a patrol mission with. His sweatshirt had been zipped all the way to his chin, and he shivered almost violently.

"Jaime, we're switching missions," Conner yelled, and rushed over to Jaime's side. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Ask her out, she'll say yes."

"What? No!" Jaime hissed. "And besides, we can't switch-"

"Blue, it's pretty much all over her diary how much she likes you. Go get her," Conner said, giving him a little shove in the direction of Cassie and completely ignoring Jaime's (fairly reasonable) protests.

When Jaime came back with a coffee date and surprisingly little damage to the kindergarten they'd been volunteering at, Conner just managed not to say I told you so.

Two and a half months. This was good, plenty of time to look for a (nonexistent) cure. Conner still had those months packed full of things Jaime needed to do, even though more and more often those activities were cancelled because Jaime was unconscious or throwing up or whatever.

Tonight was one of the easier to accomplish things. Tim's house was chock full of alcohol, and Conner was about to give Jaime his first taste of beer. He in no way supports underage drinking, but figured if you'd never reach the legal age it was sort of a moot point.

"Should I stop them, sir?" Alfred asked, hands folded behind his back as he watched the security camera monitors with Bruce.

"No. But if Jaime drinks more than two call his doctor and the other's parents." Bruce said, leaning forward and squinting at the screens.

Meanwhile, Conner hands Jaime a beer, taking off the top with a simple twist of his hand. He does the same for Tim before sitting down with his own.

"So I was thinking tomorrow we should play paintball with the entire watchtower." Conner said, knocking back half of the bottle with a long gulp.

Jaime grimaced from his liquid, "Uh, yeah, sure."

"You don't sound too sure. We could do something else?"

Jaime coughed up his beer, wiping away the strands of phlegm and blood that accompanied it with a disgusted expression. "I just- want to spend time with my family."

"Oh yeah, I understand." Conner said, wincing a little as he looked for a napkin to hand his friend.

Tim piped up quickly, changing the subject to something less (or way more depending on who you were) awkward. "Have you and Cassie done it yet?"

Jaime shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"Oh my god, Jaime, you've gotta lose your virginity before you die, at the very least," Conner said, finishing off his alcohol. "Now, who wants a second?"

"I'll just have some tea, thanks." Jaime grimaced.

"I don't understand why we're bringing pillows- they definitely won't let those into the theater-" Jaime complained, carrying a couple of dark throw pillows. Conner's extreme take on things he needed to do had seemed to have dissolved down to watching a movie in the theater, which was a relief. The seizures had started to get worse, and he could barely keep down any food. Most of the time, he ended up just putting the food in his mouth to taste it before spitting it out, and the doctor had him on an IV most of the time to make up for it.

"Jaime, just calm down. Now Bart, Cassie and everyone else is meeting us there. So shut up and get your ass to Gotham," Conner said, shoving his hand to set the zeta for the city.

The zeta opened up near an old movie theater. The doors were old and gross colored and he doubted it was even open until Conner pushed in, carrying a bunch of the blankets and pillows and stuffed animals. In the lobby was Gar and M'gann and Cassie and Tim and just - everyone. Glancing around, Jaime shook his head when he realized there were no movie theater personnel. Bruce probably owned the place, or rented it out for them.

"We're in theater three," M'gann whispered before she opened the boarded doors for everyone. The inside looked completely refurnished with couches and chairs and plush carpet, only confirming Jaime's suspicions about Bruce's involvement. Wally waved from the projector room.

Conner (finally) gave him space and let him curl up next to Cassie under thick blankets and fuzzy pillows.

He was expecting a new movie to come on and instead the opening of Monsters Inc blared through. Gar held a camera up, focused on Jaime's face.

"What's-?"

"All your favorites, Jaime," Cassie said, curling up closer. "It was Tim's idea."

After Monsters Inc. came Finding Nemo and then his favorite episode of Game of Thrones, followed quickly by The Little Mermaid. Refusing to be embarrassed about his favorite movie when he was pretty much dead, Jaime belted along to every song he could (Wally considerately running up and pausing the movie whenever a coughing fit hit).

After The Little Mermaid, Wally decided to fuck with all of them. Even the people who were sleeping were awoken by the awkward moans of internet porn. Jaime slid lower in his seat after realizing it was his favorite porn video, the one he'd literally memorized the link for.

Cassie leaned up against his ear, and for a second he tensed in fear of the legendary girlfriend-porn-wrath. "You know, after all of this is done we can try that."

He has the best girlfriend. No one can convince him otherwise.

After everyone had sufficiently teased him about the porn video, Wally played through a bunch of home videos. There were old ones, from when Jaime was just a little kid, ones from his 16th birthday party, newer ones that had been taken after he got sick. Milagro singing Barbie Girl in a cheerleader uniform, Tye making a vine and falling into someone's pool on accident, Jaime and Bart singing some Queen song poorly. Finally a youtube video that went viral of the flying members of the team singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to Jaime dressed as Starfire over his armor, thousands of feet above Gotham.

By the time the lights came on, most of them were sobbing like babies. Bart was probably crying the hardest, but he valiantly continued to shovel popcorn into his mouth anyways. The camera Gar had kept focused on Jaime's face the entire time wobbled as he sobbed, eventually falling to the floor when Wally decided to initiate a team hug.

Cassie's birthday fell on the same week Jaime was set to die. No one was really sure what day exactly he'd kick the bucket, just hoping that fate wasn't that much of a douchebag. He'd made it to her birthday fine though, and everyone put their all into celebrating.

The party was at the watchtower, with the team and loads of presents and like eight cakes. Conner initiated a full on war of paintball for fun but - mostly cause it was winding down where Jaime was definitely gonna die in the next few days and he needed to squeeze a couple more activities in. They went through the ritual of ridiculously long hugs and I love you's that happened every time he left the room to so much as piss, Conner handing them a sparkly gold bag with a wink and instructions to not open it until they got home.

Once they got to her house (her mom was on a dig, so no fear of interruption), Cassie dumped out the contents of the bag and accessories like nipple clamps, a vibrator and lubricant fell out.

"Oooh, let me get the camera first," she said, scrambling off the bed and jostling the sex toys. Jaime's eyes widened when he saw a strap on that had been hidden under the others, quickly tossing it under the bed before Cassie could see it.

The damn black camcorder that had been recording everything he did was set on a tripod and adjusted quickly - Cassie practically an expert with it by now. He was certain half of it was him doing lousy things like eating and sleeping that Cassie insisted were important memories, and the other half was his sex life (which he made Cassie promise that she never told anyone about it no matter how dead he was). She said she was keeping it mostly for memories, but also for masturbating purposes.

After sex (lots of sex), she curled up next to him under the sheets and blankets, and he brushed a hand through her hair while she traced a dainty finger over his stomach. The black roiling under his skin was snaking closer and closer to covering his heart every day.

"I'm really happy we started going out, Cassie," he whispered.

She murmured back something that might have been a 'me too', barely lifting her head from his heart. It was still strong and thumping, and the most beautiful sound in the world. She'd been doing most of the work, mostly because Jaime exercising was one of the worst ideas in the world, and she was exhausted.

"I've had a crush on you for, well, since I first saw you, you know." he says, and she leans up to kiss him quiet because this feels far too much like a goodbye but he doesn't shut up. "The first time I saw you, I thought, that's the girl I wanna marry. That's the girl I'd give up sex with Scarlett Johanson for-"

"You're disgusting." she laughs, slapping his arm lightly.

"What, it's true!" he grinned down at her, nuzzling his face into the top of her head. After a few quiet moments in which she thinks he fell asleep, he speaks again. "I'm so sorry, Cass."

"What for?"

"This - this entire thing, it wasn't fair to you." Jaime says, and Cassie feels something wet trickle down her forehead. Tears, she realized. "I love you so much it hurts, and I'm just, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Hey." she whispered, trying to pull back and see his face but he just hides in his pillow instead of her hair. "What's that saying? Better to have loved and lost than never loved at all? I'd rather have had you and lose you, than live the rest of my life regretting what might have been."

We've got time. she thought quietly as she nudged him until he faced her. We could have an entire week or more yet, the doctors say he's doing so good.

"I'm so sorry, Cassie." he chokes out, and she just puts her head back onto his heart, trying to wrap as much of herself around him as possible.

"I love you, okay? You don't have to apologize for letting me have you, for loving me back. You don't have to apologize for anything."

The distinct noise of a fart filled the room, and there was a split second of absolute silence before they were giggling like elementary school boys.

"Maybe for that." Cassie said, fanning the air in front of her face as she pinched her nose. Jaime just laughed harder.

"Cass," He says in a low voice after they'd laughed themselves out. "Happy birthday."

She smiles against his chest, listening to that steady, beautiful thump thump. She wants to stay awake, to make sure he's ok and just be there but she falls asleep anyways, still grinning a bit.

When Cassie wakes up, the room is still dark and she grumbles with annoyance, tugging the blankets up a little and readjusting herself. She tries to go back to sleep, but something's bugging her. The room feels wrong, too quiet, and she slowly pulls herself to a sitting position, back of her neck prickling with dread. She elbows Jaime hard enough to wake him up, then again when she doesn't hear even a grunt of annoyance. Cassie glances down at him, glaring because there's something wrong in the air and -

He's still asleep, barely moving at all.

"Jaime," She whispers and then again a little fiercer, a little louder before shaking him. His head flops and she tries again, shouting, the dread a heavy stone in her stomach.

She grabs her phone and dials Conner. "He won't wake up," she explains, and quickly adds, "He's just faking it, but he isn't listening."

Minutes later, Conner has to pull Cassie off and away from Jaime, her voice shrill as she screams when they try and put him in a black bag.

She doesn't truly believe he's dead until she's dressed in black and throwing a handful of dirt onto a coffin.

The first time she sees him she's tired. Exhausted, really, to the point where black is beginning to dot her vision and she's struggling to not just lie down right on the floor and let the night wrap around her.

She practically dives into her bed, pulling blankets over her shoulders and adjusting her head on the pillows. She sighs, trying to close her eyes and push out thoughts and just relax.

"You really shouldn't wear yourself out this much," he says, and thin, careful fingers brush through her hair. "Get more sleep. Don't work so hard."

Her eyes flutter shut. It's like it's normal that he's there, his husky voice lulling her back to sleep like he used to. "I love you," She whispers, sleep washing over her.

"I love you too," He says, and she feels the airy press of his lips against her forehead before she finally falls into the first dreamless sleep since his death.

She sees him a lot after that. Sometimes it's when she's tired, or when she's sick with stress and convulsing against the bathroom tiles. He'll stand in the doorway then, telling her to get better and just hang on, sometimes coming in to wrap his cool body around her's. One time she had a terrible rash from where Bart mistakenly rubbed poison ivy all over her arm and she was trying not to itch it, miserably watching Frozen. Then he's watching next to her, rubbing a hand soothingly against the rash and singing along loudly and off key with every song.

He shows up vibrantly when she's on a mission with Conner to be take out thugs who were shipping Kobra Venom. She thought it was an easy job until they actually got out to fight and found the men had the venom coursing through their veins already.

One of them slammed into Conner and four more piled onto him, leaving her with three. The first she disabled with ease before unloading the gun and tossing both it and the clip into the harbor. Another of them hit her over the head from behind with a rusty pipe and kept hitting her, the rough metal bruising and tearing her skin. She screamed as the man grabbed her hair to hold her upright, each hit vibrating pain into her skin. She manages to lean forward far enough to puke up a mixture of her own snot, salivia, blood, and a couple teeth. Then the sudden the unbearable pain is gone and she looks up through bleary eyes to see Jaime lifting the guy off her.

She snags the opening and punches the other one while Jaime takes care of pipe-dude.

When she turns back around there's no Jaime, just Conner's hard breath as he disarms the guy with the pipe.

It's a few weeks before she sees him again.

She's crying but not really, just tears making salty streaks down her cheeks and dehydrating her. She's exhausted and run thin on too little sleep and too much caffeine, and she stumbles into the bathroom to take her sleeping pills, glass of water sloshing onto the sink when she sets it down.

That's when she gets the idea - no, when the idea starts to make sense. Her life sucks. She hates it. It's useless and stupid and not really worth it. She couldn't sleep without medicine and just barely then, her family was a mess, she was failing every single class including gym, and she'd woken up next to her boyfriend's corpse.

Mind clear for the first time in months, she empties out the sleeping pills, tylenol and birth control pills into neat, separate piles. She picks up the first five small round tablets, closing her eyes.

One, two, thr-

"You don't want to do that," he says. She opens an eye reluctantly, not wanting to put them down just yet. She wants to remind herself it's just a hallucination, just a stress induced figment of her imagination but he seems so real, dressed in plaid pajama pants and mouth twisted into a frown. "Being dead sucks ass anyways."

Just swallow the pills- forget him- he isn't real- never will be.

He steps forward, hand brushing lightly against her wrist and it feels like he's fucking there. "Put the pills down, Cass."

She shakes her head.

"As soon as I do you'll go," she whines, and the tears that stopped when her genius plan hit begin to well up again.

"I'll stay as long as you want me," he says, and it takes her a second to remember she couldn't kiss him because this is some imagine-Jaime. She slowly dumps them back into their pile, and melts into the arms that wrap around her.

He shows up at least once day after that, even if it's just out of the corner of her eyes before bed. Checking up on her, she guesses.

Nightwing sends her on a solo mission and she drinks enough caffeine to help counteract the sleeping pills she had already taken. Jaime shakes his head at her silently, but she just sticks her tongue out at him before jumping into the turf war without a second thought.

Everyone takes hits at her, the costume drawing blows from all sides. She's taken more and more risky missions since Jaime died, but this is ridiculous and she'd call for backup if she could find a second to breathe. Ricocheting bullets clip her skin and knives graze her, the pain just adding another level to the adrenaline burning in her veins.

And suddenly Jaime's there beside her, urging her on and telling her to duck when a baseball bat comes flying her direction. She can't waste time being surprised, but she would if she could - Jaime's only shown up on missions where she had a partner before.

She clutches two guys wearing yellow and smashes their heads together, spinning around to deal with something else when a knife gets shoved towards her. Jaime attempts to catch the blow for her, but the knife slams through his skin and into her's. Cassie slumps to the ground as blood soaks the chest of her costume, Jaime cupping his hand around her face and stroking her cheekbone with a thumb soothingly. She struggles to focus her eyes on him, and he looks beautiful enough that she barely feels it when the knife is jerked from her body and the gangs disperse around her. Cassie falls to her side, and in the sudden silence it's loud. Jaime lays beside her, and she watches his face as her vision starts to go dark around the edges.

"Cass," he says, eyes crinkly around the edges and smile lighting up his face. She struggles to keep her eyes open, to memorize every detail she can. "Happy birthday."