That, he supposed, is the other side of this bargain. One that Rufus can bet Reeve recognizes. For all that Rufus truly seems to believe a positive outlook can bring him through this, Reeve knows the numbers. Or the closest to accurate numbers anyone can manage. The stigma will kill Rufus sooner or later.

And Reeve is willing to accept that. Accept the weight of caring for someone who is going to die before him. Someone who won’t necessarily have a choice about leaving him alone. The knowledge doesn’t hurt, but it is a bitter pill to swallow.

“If it is alright with you, I would ask that of such happens approaching a time I am due to see you, I still be allowed to come. I know I would be little help, but if the time was already free I would have trouble living with myself if I wasn’t at least here on this couch with the hope to see you before work summoned me away.”