The scalding hot coffee barely registers as it burns its way down her throat. Looking ahead, Ellie sees Cooper in their usual spot, right next to the elevators. His head droops low and his body lays slack against his seat. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that he's sleeping.

She tilts her head, cautiously looking him over before planting herself in the seat next to his. She takes another sip from her coffee, this time, the burn hitting her throat instantly and eliciting a small hiss.

The sound of pain must be a bit louder than intended, as Cooper begins stirring in his seat next to her. His eyes flutter open slowly and in a moment's time, they're connecting with Ellie's.

"Hi," he mumbles sleepily, a yawn following his greeting.

"Hello."

She tries not to stare at the slight reveal of his stomach as he stretches his arms above his head. A lazy smile finds his lips as his arms drop back down, pushing himself upright into a more suitable position.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she mentions. "I probably should've just gone up to my grandma once I saw you were sleeping."

His shoulders lift slightly into a shrug. "Nah, it's all right. I'm glad you woke me up. I'm so damn tired all the time. I don't want to sleep my life away."

He glances down at the coffee in her hand, nodding to it and raising his eyebrows as if asking for a drink. Ellie looks down at the cup in her hands before handing it over to him. He takes it, easily tossing it back and taking a sip.

"Shit, that's hot," he says, fanning at his mouth as he hands the cup back over to her. "I definitely still hate coffee. The damn chemo must not be working very well."

A small chuckle escapes Ellie's throat and a comfortable silence falls over them. Ellie finds herself lost in thought as she stares at an elderly couple across the room. The older man is pushing, who she presumes to be, his wife in a wheelchair. She's asleep and her body looks frail. The nasal cannula and oxygen tank that roll with her as if they are a part of her own body are a dead giveaway that she's not doing well.

"It's sad," Cooper says, pulling her from her thoughts.

She glances over at him to see his eyes trained on the same elderly couple she'd previously been watching. Her eyes find their way back over to them as she waits for Cooper to continue.

"Watching what might be people's last moments on this world." Ellie feels his gaze shift from the couple to her. She gulps, keeping her head forward as she watches the elderly man try and shake his wife awake.

"I don't want to spend my last moments in this hospital," he says quietly. She finally looks in the blond boy's direction to see that his stare has returned back to the couple. "I'm not coming to this hospital anymore if they tell me I'm dying. If this treatment doesn't work for me, I'm not spending my last moments alive in a place that smells like death and hand sanitizer. I'm spending it out. In the world. Really living."

She nods, silently agreeing.

A silence washes over them once more as they watch the elderly couple until they're completely out of sight.

"Ellie?"

She looks back at Cooper, the circles under his eyes suddenly having a whole new meaning. "Yes?"

"Do something with me."

Her eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?"

"If this time, right now, is the last of my days, I want to do things I've never done before. Do them with me."

"Okay..." she says warily, unsure of what exactly he means.

"We'll get a jar," he starts, "and we'll fill that jar with different slips of paper. Mini adventures for us to do. Every Saturday we'll pick from that jar and whatever we choose, we have to do. No backing out."

A smile tugs at her lips. "That sounds like fun."

He nods, an excited laugh leaving his own lips before his expression turns bleak. He glances down at his hands in his lap. "I don't want to waste my life. If I die, I want to die knowing that I've done the things I want to do."

Ellie reaches over for his hand, nearly flinching away when her warm one meets his cold one. He glances at her hand on top of his before searching for her eyes. "So we'll do them. Whatever it is you want to do."

The corners of his lips tug upwards into his usual grin. "I don't want this to just be about me. Yes, I may be the sick one here. But that's no excuse for you to not be living your own life. We'll both put things we've always wanted to do in the jar. We'll do them together."

She nods, retracting her hand from his and noticing the way his eyes follow her hand back to her lap. "Together."

"Do you have a piece of paper?" He asks suddenly.

She reaches for her purse, unzipping it and searching inside for the pocket-sized notebook she carries with her. When her hand finally lands on the leather-clad object, she pulls it out, ripping a piece of paper from it and handing it to Cooper.

A blush creeps onto his cheeks. "And a pen?"

Her eyes roll playfully as she reaches into her bag and hands him one of the many pens she's "accidentally" snagged from a restaurant. "You're so needy."

"Do you have a jar?"

She frowns, reaching for her bag to search for the unlikely item when Cooper's hand shoots out to stop her. He laughs, eyes crinkling in delight as he takes in her genuinely confused expression.

"I was kidding, El. I don't expect you to have a jar in your purse. Though, you're really setting yourself up to be the perfect grandmother one day. A never-ending stash in your purse is a good start."

This time, her eyes don't roll in a playful manner. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Just give me one second," he says, biting his lip as he secretly scribbles away at the paper in his hand. He crumples it up into a ball and tosses it across the room onto the middle of the floor.

Ellie stares at the paper, waiting for him to explain. When he doesn't, she asks, "What was that for?"

"We don't have a jar."

She shakes her head, not following his logic. He laughs. "So the room is our jar. Pick our first activity please."

Her eyes narrow as she fixes him with a blank stare. "I'm not going to pick that up. Why would you throw it? Were the theatrics really necessary? You couldn't have just handed it to me?"

"Theatrics are always necessary."

If her eyes could roll back into her head, they would right now. She sighs, pushing herself up from her seat and walking across the room to pick up the ball of paper. Once she's sat back down in her seat, she unfolds the crumpled ball.

"New Year's Eve?" She asks, staring at the poorly-scribbled words on the paper.

"Our first adventure," he says with a grin. "A New Year's Eve party."