Taylor was nervously settled on the hospital bed, wearing those awful white outfit open in the back. It was all itchy, making her deeply wish that she could take it off. Everything was cold around her: the iron bars of the bed, the white sheets, the white pillow, the white walls, the white ceiling, the white linoleum, the large hospital lamp hanging above her head. The atmosphere was unbearable.

There were machines all around her, and she knew that she was 'plugged' to some of them. The catheter planted in her veins was there to remind her about it. It itched even more than the outfit she was wearing, and the desire to snatch grew more and more powerful. Just looking at the white band aid covering it was the most annoying thing at the moment.

After the few months of treatments she had, the doctors at the Royal Marsden Hospital discovered that the tumor in her kidney had not got better at all. Therefore, the organ had to be surgically removed.

She stared at the ceiling, terrified of the upcoming operation and what would become of her. How she wished that John was there, beside her, holding her hand and whispering tender words to her, something that he could do so well. The adorable melody of his voice, the warmth of his smile, the fondness in his kisses, the gentle strength of his embrace, the elegance in his walking, the depth of his eyes... She missed everything about him. He did not even know that she was in this hospital, ready to have an organ removed. Why was he on tour? Why was he away from her?

A soft knock on the door made her stop daydreaming. A smiling nurse appeared, holding a clipboard against her.

“Good morning, Mrs Deacon. Are you ready for the operation?”

“The doctors came to wash me and dress me up in this white... thing.”

“Perfect. Your operation will occur in less than an hour. I'm going to anaestethise you. You won't fall asleep immediately, you'll have to wait a tiny bit. Okay?”

“I guess.”

She lightly chuckled and put her clipboard down on one of the machines. She fumbled in her pocket for a small box containing a syringe full of a white thick liquid. The nurse took it out from its box and came up to her.

The nurse bent on her lightly, touching her shoulder.

“I understand that you are nervous, I think I would be petrified if I were in your shoes. But don't worry, our doctors are used to this kind of operation. It will go well.”

“I'd like to fully believe you.”

“And I wish you all the best.”

She lightly patter Taylor's shoulder, before taking the needle and flicking it. Subsequently, she grabbed the plastic tube coming out from her patient's arm and found the spot to empty the needle in it. Taylor closed her eyes, knowing that it was the signal.

The nurse lifted her up and put her down on the icy operation table. She left the room, taking back her clipboard, and wishing her good luck. Taylor sighed and closed her eyes, tryign to find some comfort in something before she would fall into nothingness.

Unfortunately, as her anxiety grew and grew, she could not keep them closed for long. She stared at the lamp above her, not caring much if she would get blinded by its bright light.

Where was John? In what country was he? How was he? Was he having fun? Was he dying of laughter, somewhere in this world?

Taylor's eyes filled with tears. She needed John. When he was away, it felt as if all the beauty of Earth had disappeared. She wanted to look at him and confess how petrified she was, how much her kidneys were burning, and how she loved him.

Yes... how she... loved...

-------------------------------

The world surrounding Taylor seemed either drowsy or dead. There was not any noise to be heard, not even a muffled one. It felt as though her numb body was floating in outer space, but it was far from being starry. It actually looked more like a black hole. Her long blond hair was tickling the crook of her neck, reminding her that she was alive.

Was the operation over? She could not tell.

An unexpected warmth wrapped her up in its comforting coat; she felt like a child whose mother was taking care of before going to bed. A loving mother... Somebody she never knew. Suzy's mother liked her when she was little, but not her own.

Taylor suddenly felt something touching her bare back. It was as soft as the clouds she looked at every time she took the plane with John to go elsewhere

A cloud? Of course... a cloud!

She did not get lost in a black hole. Brian told her that the clouds could not go into a black hole. Of course not. Clouds were made of water. And water could only be found on Earth. So... there she was.

She blinked a little as a blinding light pierced the darkness she was oddly floating in.

John... Where was John?

Taylor felt her hand being taken. The other skin felt so soft and warm, not like this of a doctor who would nonchalantly check her up.

She eventually opened her eyes. She was in the middle of a white and lifeless room, with a light that was the same colour. She was buried under a blue blanket tucked at the edge of the bed along with bright white sheets.

She felt absolutely nothing in her body, yet she had the impression that she had been sleeping for a thousand years. Her limbs were exhausted. However, she managed to turn her head to the side where somebody was holding her hand. Taylot caught a glimpse of short brown hair, a pair of grey eyes, a long nose dominating two thin rosy lips.

There he was... her love. Her only love.

“John...” she whispered weakly. “I thought you were abroad.”

“I was” he smiled “but Suzy gave me a call a few days ago to tell me that you were at hospital and that you would have one kidney removed.”

“How did she know your phone number?”

“I gave her a copy of the list of dates and phone numbers before I left, just in case. Looks like that I was right to do so.”

“But... your tour...”

“I won't finish it. Freddie asked our manager if he could cancel the tour because of our situation. He accepted. So, for the next tour, we'll play more gigs at every place we had to cancel.”

“You didn't have to...”

“You need somebody to be with you, Taylor. And as long as I live, I will be there.”

“Mmh” she grinned. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, my dear. How do you feel?”

“I don't really know, it's hard to tell. For now, I don't feel anything, but I feel like I've been sleeping for so long!”

“Only ten hours, darling.”

“Oh, so it's the first time I've slept that long since all this shit started...”

“At least you're safe now, isn't that all that matters?”

“Perhaps.”

Taylor yawned and moved her arms, letting go of John's hand. She pushed on them in order to sit up, but at this moment, a sharp pain coming from her right (missing) kidney woke up. She closed her eyes and screamed, feeling her arms giving out under her. Just before her back would abruptly crash against the thin mattress, John jumped on his feet and slipped his hands under her back, right between her shoulder blades. She winced and moaned, letting him carefully lay her down on the uncomfortable bed.

“Don't sit up, my love” he whispered worriedly “you should rest.”

“Alright... By the way, do you know how the operation went?”

“It apparently went well, according to the surgeons. Your tumor and your kidney have been removed successfully, and it will be analysed.”

“Cool.”

Taylor yawned and scratched the tip of her nose. An idea popped in her mind, and she started to move in her bed, very slowly so she could avoid the pain.

“What are you doing?” John frowned.

“Lie with me, sweetheart. I feel so lonely in this bed and I want to feel you beside me.”

“I would like too, but no. You really should rest. But I'm staying right here next to you.”

She tried to measure the space between the armchair he had been sitting on and her bed. She frowned and shook her head, looking up at him.

“But you're too far.”

John chuckled and leant in to kiss her on the forehead, tenderly stroking her cheek. She struggled weakly and pouted like a child, unable to hide her grin.

“Not on the forehead.”

“You cute little fickle jade!”

He laughed a bit more and let his lips move on to hers and embracing them. He tenderly cupped her face with his hands, gently pulling her closer. She wrapped her weak arms around his neck, feeling a huge relief inside her chest. John was back.

They heard somebody knock at the door and they pulled away. A nurse opened it, smiling at both of them. She was the same nurse who had taken care of her before she fell asleep. Still with the same white coat, white skirt and golden-haired bun.

“Good evening, Mrs Deacon. So, how do you feel?”

“Way better.”

“You're lucky to have this gentleman beside you, huh?” the nurse chuckled. “So, does your back hurt?”

“When I tried to sit up, it did.”

“Oh, you should not sit up for the moment. We'll help you when you have dinner in a few minutes.”

“But I'm not hungry. I'm not hungry at all.”

“Sorry, madam, but you must build up your strength! We don't want you to pass out, and I'm sure that Mr. Deacon doesn't either.”

“Yeah, yeah” Taylor grumbled.

The nurse checked something on the machine to which she was linked thanks to the tube coming out from her arm. She checked the morphine pocket and shook her head, replacing it with another one she kept on her sort of trolley. After that, she took her stethoscope in the pocket of her white coat and made a quick checkup. Taylor was holding John's hand, weakly smiling at him, while he was stroking her hair.

Once the checkup was done, the nurse left the room, reminding her to eat. Then, she closed the door. Taylor sighed and rubbed her eyes with her tired fingers. Not so long after the nurse left, another one knocked at the door, carrying a tray with food on it. John held the door open for her, enabling her to put it down on the movable table. She asked him to help her sit Taylor up.

John carefully slipped a hand under Taylor's left armpit, while the nurse was holding the other. They counted until three and made her sit up gently, though she winced in pain and hissed. John rearranged the pillows under her, so she would feel more comfortable. He pulled the movable table so it would stand above her lap.

When Taylor looked at the dinner that had been brought to her, she pulled a digusted face. There was a thick vermicelli soup in a plastic bowl, along with carrots, two potatoes, unindentified vegetables and meat in a plate, accompanied with a slice of bread with butter, and a chocolate muffin. Next to the plate, there was a bottle of still water. Though she loved vermicelli soup, she felt nauseous at the idea of dipping a spoon into it.

When John and Taylor only remained in the room, she loudly sighed, wanting to push the table away from her.

“I'm not hungry. I'm going to throw up.”

“Come on, love, you must eat.”

“I feel like I have eaten a wad of medicines. I have a disgusting taste in my mouth, this is unbearable.”

“But still, you must eat. Let me help you.”

John sat beside her on the bed, careful not to sit on her, and took the bowl of soup first. He grabbed the spoon on the tray and gently stirred the soup. Then, he filled the spoon with it, softly blowing on it so it would not burn her tongue, and brought it to her pouting lips. She unwillingly put it into her mouth and swallowed the soup, pulling a face.

“It's disgusting.”

“Perhaps, but you must build up your strength, Taylor. Come on, be brave.”

With a broad smile, he gave her another spoonful of soup, then another, and another, and another... Afterwards, he helped her eat her whole plate; as the unidentified vegetables almost made her vomit, he kept them aside, agreeing on not feeding her with those after he tasted them. He made her drink a bit of water, buttered her bread, and gave her the toast. When it came to the chocolate muffin, she cringed at it and turned her head.

“I really can't eat that...” she cried. “I feel like I'm going to explode... Don't you want to eat it? You still haven't had dinner!”

“Alright, then don't eat it, darling” he sighed, before leaning over her and kissing her forehead. “You ate well, love, I'm proud of you. You're my strong wife.”

Taylor blushed and chuckled, kissing his lips briefly before letting him eat the muffin. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat and looked at him.

“Don't you want to eat something else?”

“No, I'm alright. I ate something before coming. But I think I'm going to get myself a cup of coffee at the coffee machine. Do you want one? Or tea? Hot chocolate?”

“A lemon tea, please, love.”

“No problem.”

John smiled widely and kissed her, before rummaging through his wallet to get enough coins for two beverages. He left the room and crossed the silent corridor, only lit up by ceiling neons every six doors. The hospital was all silent, but sometimes, this silence would get broken by a patient crying or screaming in pain. Some people would simply lose their mind, being trapped between four dull walls.

When he reached the coffee machine, he immediately slid the first coins into it, pressing on the button for lemon tea. As the machine purred and the paper cup fell, John crossed his arms and burst into tears. They were rolling down his cheeks like rivers flowed through peaceful landscapes. His Taylor, his sweet Taylor, she looked so weak and fragile. He felt helpless and useless. How could he even make her feel better whereas she had just lost an organ?

The machine beeped to alert him that the beverage was ready. He quickly wiped his tears and dried his cheeks before taking the paper cup full of tea. He slid the other coins in the machine and asked for a coffee. This time, he did not cry. He had to keep his head up. If he showed her how terrible he felt, it would not help her. It would only make things worse.

Once again, the beep alerted him that his beverage was ready. He took the cup and walked back to Taylor's room. When he got in, she was curled up under the sheets, crying. He immediately ran up to her, putting down the two paper cups on the moving table. He sat beside her, and she let herself fall into his arms, sobbing on his shoulder.

“What's happening, my sweet darling?” he whispered, stroking her hair.

“I feel horrible. Horrible. I'm going to throw up, I'm so numb, and swallowing all this is so painful.”

“Don't worry, Taylor, you'll be better tomorrow. You've just woken from anaesthesia, it's normal not to feel well.”

“Do you promise that I'll get better?”

“I promise, sweetie. Tomorrow you'll almost be back on your feet. You'll have less troubles to eat.”

“I hope so.”

“Don't worry, my love. I'm here. Do you want your tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Taylor sniffed loudly, and John took out a clean tissue from his pocket, drying her eyes with all the tenderness he could show her. With another one, he helped her blow her nose, before throwing the two tissues in the bin of the bathroom. He came back to her, handing her the cup of tea. He kissed her temple and stroked her hair for a moment, until a knock on the door interrupted.

A tall nurse with black hair came in, with a wide grin. She was dragging a trolley behind her, and stopped when she reached the bed. She bypassed it and took the tray.

“I hope you ate well, madam” she said politely. “I was about to ask you if you would fancy a beverage, but it looks like your husband thought quicker than me!”

“Indeed!” Taylor laughed, still disturbed by some tears in her eyes. “I'm lucky to have him. But at least there will be more coffee for the others!”

“Quite right. Sir, are you going to stay here for the night?”

“Can I?”

The nurse nodded and winked at him. John looked at Taylor, whose face suddenly lit up. She turned to the nurse with a puppy face, and she laughed.

“I'm going to ask a colleague to get you a pillow and a blanket.”

“Thanks you, madam.”

“You're welcome, Mr. Deacon.”

The nurse got out of the room with the trolley and closed the door behind her. Taylor could not help but laugh happily, knowing that after such a hard ordeal, she would not be alone. Through sickness and health. John was not breaking his vow.

They spent some time chatting quietly, drinking their hot beverage. John told her some things about the tour, how Freddie dressed all in leather and even hired men dressed as Superman for some gigs. Taylor was attentively listening to them. She was deeply interested in the life of the band, and also it helped her forget about her kidney for a moment.

A nurse brought John a blue blanket and a pillow, and helped him settle the armchair properly so it would be more comfortable. Then, she left, and they were alone for the rest of the night.

After some other memories of the tour, Taylor yawned loudly and put her paper cup on the bedside table, covering her lips with her hand. John chuckled and gathered their cups to throw them in the bathroom. When he came back, he noticed that her eyelids were heavy.

“Do you want to help you lie down properly?”

“Yes, please.”

John shook his head and lightly pulled the sheets, before wrapping his arms around her thin body, as if he was hugging her. He pulled her a bit and arranged the pillows more comfortably. Then, he carefully laid her down on the mattress, resting her head on the white pile. She sighed and blinked, watching him remove his shoes. He made sure that she had a bottle of water beside her just in case, and that she could easily alert him or a nurse if something wrong was to happen.

He leant over her and tenderly kissed her forehead, her cheek and her lips. He smiled at her, staring at her lovingly; she was stroking his face with her drowsy fingers, feeling her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. John turned off the light and sat on the armchair beside the bed, hearing her pulling the sheets over her. As for him, he covered himself with the blue blanket he had been given and rested his head against the pillow. He spread his legs before him as far as he could, trying to find a comfortable position.

Though fatigue had taken hold of her body, Taylor could not fall asleep. John was beside her and it felt good, but she felt that something was not right. She did not really know what it was, and it left her confused. She still tried to close her eyes and count in her head, or imagine some cute scenes with John, but no, her body refused to rest.

After twenty minutes, she sighed loudly and spoke in the darkness.

“I can't sleep, John.”

“How's that, dear?”

“I don't know. I feel like something's not right, but I can't find out what it actually is.”

She sighed again and ran her hands through her messy hair. She turned her head to where John's voice sounded.

“Could you... tell me a story? But if you're exhausted, sleep, I'll find somethin else.”

“Of course, sweetheart. What kind of story do you want? A fairytale?”

“Why not?”

“Okay. Let me think about one.”

John stared at the dark ceiling, trying to find a story to tell. As he did not remember the only story he thought of entirely, he decided to come up with one. But not just any story.

“Once upon a time, there was a gorgeous golden-haired princess, with breathtaking green eyes. She lived in a tiny castle made of red bricks, and inside this same castle, she kept an empty room, with only empty frames nailed to the walls. Her name was Taylor Taylor.”

Taylor chuckled and covered her mouth with her fingers, eager to listen to the rest of the story.

“One night on her way, she met a long-haired pauper, who immediately fell in love with her. It was obviously love at first glance, as he never had the chance to meet her before. It was as if she had cast a spell on him; he was completely bewitched by her looks. Much to the pauper's surprise, he managed to befriend her, and for many months, they saw each other and laughed about the world surrounding them. As the princess never traveled, the pauper gathered his money to bring her to the place she was the most eager to visit. There, they showed their love to each other. Time flew, and they were inseparable. She traveled a lot with him, and as he played with a happy band of troubadours. The pauper bought a big house in the kingdom, and the princess accepted to leave her castle to stay with him every single day of their lives. To celebrate it, they adopted a beautiful kitten she called Malo.”

She laughed again, waiting for him to keep telling their story. John silently stood up from his armchair, walking on the cold linoleum with his bare feet, making sure that she would not notice. As she did not react, he carried on with his story.

“The princess seemed to be so in love with the pauper that she wanted to be engaged. They got engaged like it was planned, and a few months later...”

He leant on over her, stroking her cheek with his fingertips, making her jump in surprise. Her hand blindly looked for his.

“The princess and the pauper got married. They traveled to Japan for their honeymoon, but had to get back home because the princess had disturbing butterflies in her lower back. Actually, a lotus flower was slowly growing in her right kidney. When they got back to her kingdom, the princess, who was now the pauper's queen, thought that it would be a good idea to give birth to a little prince or a little princess. The pauper obviously agreed, wishing it too. A baby started to grow in her cute stomach, whereas the lotus flower was growing in her kidney. Doctors picked the flowers out of her, and they lived happily ever after. Now, if you want to know what the princess and the pauper are doing right now, well I'm going to tell you. The pauper is leaning over his breathtaking princess and... just... kisses her on the lips...”

As he said, John's lips brushed past hers, making her shudder and long for the kiss. After a few seconds of playing like that, John closed his eyes and kissed her tenderly, sweetly stroking her face. When he pulled away, Taylor blushed and silently thanked darkness that it hid it. John took her hand and brought it to his lips, bowing, though she could not see him.

“Did you like my story?” he whispered with a grin.

“It was the most beautiful one. Way more than all those fairytales like Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and all those other stupidities. But are you sure that this man was a pauper? I'm pretty sure he was the king from the beginning.”

“Oh no, he wasn't. It's the princess who made him a king. And who really made him a man. His life became way better when she was there.”

“Hers too.”

They chuckled and stared at each other through the dark, this time feeling exactly where the other was. Taylor tenderly stroked his fingers and yawned.

“Ready to sleep now, my darling?” John asked.

“I think so... Yup, definitely.”

“Good night, my beautiful queen. Don't forget to wake me up if anything's wrong, if you need to go to the bathroom or anything like that. If I don't wake up, push the button for the nurse to be alerted.”

“Okay... Good night, gorgeous king, king of my dreams. Don't you want to sleep with me in the bed? I can sleep on my side.”

“No, no, no. Right now, you need a full bed. Only for yourself. Don't worry, when we get home, we'll share a bed again.”

“Cool, I can't wait to meet your farts again!”

“Wait... what?! Do I... Do I fart when I sleep?!”

“You have no idea.”

“Oh fuck, Taylor, I'm so sorry, you must find that disgusting and all, oh gosh... I feel so ashamed.”

“Hey, chill! I was only kidding. Don't worry, you don't fart, and you rarely snore.”

“Ah... That's good to know.”

They laughed, and John kissed her good night before going back to his armchair, trying to find the same position as earlier. He covered himself again with the blanket and looked at Taylor for the last time.

“Good night, Taylor.”

“Good night, John. I love you.”