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theghostofashton · 6 years

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survival will not be the hardest part

hi. i know y’all are very anxious to read this. i know how long i’ve kept you waiting, but i’d really appreciate if you’d read this lil thing first.

so, this story, known more commonly as ‘the cancer fic’ is an idea my friend rachel gave me back in april. she’s pretty known on twitter, but not on tumblr, so for those of you who aren’t aware: rachel’s spent a really long time in the hospital over the years. she’s been having a hard time lately, and i...it breaks my heart. i wanted to do something for her.

this is that something.

in this story, rachel is awsten (she doesn’t have cancer. let’s be clear about that. aside from the medical conditions, she is awsten). there are seven main OCs. every single one of them is an actual human being. their names are the same. conditions are not. the main point of this story was the kids, to focus on the struggle rachel’s faced alongside being the person awsten is in the story, to the kids.

a while ago, rachel came to me pissed about something she saw online, of people making hospitals out to be these “pretty” and “aesthetic” places, essentially glamorizing them. that made me want to do this even more. this is her life. this is what she deals with on a daily basis. this is the reality of being in the hospital. it’s not pretty or glamorous or idealistic. this is real. it’s raw and real and painful because i wanted to highlight that.

when i started writing this, i knew it wouldn’t be received the same as my other stuff. this is very OC heavy. it’s very personal. this is the longest and hardest and heaviest thing i have ever done. it’s so personal to me and to rachel and i would really appreciate yall keeping that in mind while you read.

trigger warnings for suicide and depression, also a ton of medical stuff including vomiting...this is a hospital fic, after all.

and finally, this is dedicated to lily. fly high, love. thank you for looking down on us. rest in peace.

September 3rd, 2017 – 10:53 AM

"Aws, we need your help."

He pulls out his other earbud and lifts his head, places a hand over the page in his journal as he looks over to the doorway. He doesn't wait for something else to be said, flips the book closed and loops the band around, pulls out his remaining earbud and wraps the cord around his phone.

"Who is it?" He falls into place beside Geoff as they walk down the hallway. An arm snakes its way around his waist and squeezes his torso. He moves a hand to Geoff's back, closes his eyes and breathes in. "What happened?"

"Nia doesn't wanna take her meds. And she needs a Vitamin B shot too," Geoff says. His voice is low. He runs his other hand through his hair with a sigh. "She's crying. It's bad."

"Fuck," he swears. He picks up the pace, so fast he almost breaks out into a run by the time they reach the end of the hallway. He breaks out of Geoff's hold and jogs past the nurses' desk and a bunch of hospital carts, ignores the multiple cries of 'Awsten, don't run!'. He needs to get there. He needs to be there. He forgot this was happening today he completely forgot fuckfuckfuck-

And when he does, he doesn't stop. He runs through the double doors, into the pediatric ward, and veers off to the left. "Nia..." He breathes. He stops at the foot of her bed, places a hand on the railing and moves to stand next to her head. "I'm so sorry I forgot, sweetheart. I'm here now."

"Awsie!" Nia cries. She stretches her arms out for him. Tears are drying on her cheeks and her lip is quivering. "Don't want it Awsie, don't want it."

He swallows. It feels like his heart is attached to strings and the puppet master is tugging, harder and harder, about to rip the muscle from its suspension in his chest. He takes one of Nia's hands and climbs into the bed next to her, pulls her into his chest and squeezes tightly, presses a kiss to the top of her head. When he looks up, it's straight into Geoff's eyes. He's tapping the end of the syringe with his nail, lip pulled between his teeth, sympathetic smile on his face.

"Tell me when she's ready," Geoff says softly. He nods and looks back down at Nia. Her head is completely hidden from view. Her arms are squeezing around his waist. He can feel the damp spot on his shirt.

He sighs. "Nia, love, hey, don't cry... It's gonna be okay, I promise." He tangles his fingers into her hair and pulls them through, tilts his head down and places another kiss against her scalp.

"Don't like it..." Nia whines. He exhales heavily and tightens his arm around her back.

She doesn't deserve this. She's so young. She should be worried about not having enough time play on the swings and whether the mean boy in her class will steal her toys again, not on the verge of a panic attack over a fluid-filled syringe that comes with its own cocktail of side effects. This is a mountain and it's too big for her tiny shoulders to carry.

"It's gonna make you feel better. Don't you wanna feel better?" Her sobs are starting to quiet. He keeps rubbing her back, pressing the circles in, firm and soft and tight against the warmth of her skin.

"And Nia, hey," Geoff says. "Awsten can stay with you after, if you take it."

He lifts his head to meet Geoff's eyes and sends him a smile. Geoff nods a bit and smiles back, motions to the door and mouths, 'I'll get them to let you. You can't leave her right now. She needs you'.

'Thank you. I love you,' he mouths back.

'I love you too'.

"You'll really stay?" Nia looks up at him, quivering lip and teary eyes. She's blinking rapidly against the sheen.

He leans forward and kisses her forehead. "Of course I will, love. But you gotta take your meds, okay?"

She gives a sigh that is much too long for a seven year old, before eventually nodding and sticking her arm in Geoff's direction. He pulls her head back down into his chest as Geoff cleans an area on her bicep, feels her grip around his waist get tighter and tighter.

And then the needle goes in and she squeezes him so hard he starts to see spots, but they go as quickly as they come. Geoff presses down on the tube to insert the medicine in, and ever so slowly, Nia's grip starts to loosen. She doesn't look back up until Geoff is pressing gauze against her skin and moving his hand to her shoulder.

"Which one this time?" Geoff shows her a handful of band-aids, all various colors with character designs and tiny patterns decorating the tops. Awsten smiles as she settles back against his chest and points to one on the end that displays a smiling princess from some movie he barely recognize. He remembers seeing her on the screen a few weeks ago in the playroom, feeling Nia tap his shoulder excitedly and squeal over how beautiful she looked when she came on the screen. And then black overtook his vision and he didn't wake until the credits were rolling and Nia was snoring in his arms, making little snuffles every couple seconds.

Geoff grins and affixes it to her skin. Nia takes her arm back and turns over fully, moves her head to his shoulder and breathes out warmly into his neck. He moves his arm up to wrap around her and pulls his fingers through her hair again.

"What song?"

"The Pink one!"

He smiles. "Alright love, close your eyes..."

...

September 3rd, 2017 – 12:22 PM

"Aws?"

"Sunshine, hey, wake up."

He blinks rapidly. His head feels heavy, like it's stuffed with cotton and full of rocks that make it so impossibly hard to lift. "Huh?"

"You fell asleep." A pair of lips brushes his cheek. He hums, keeps his eyes squinted and snakes an arm around Geoff's neck. "Let's go back to your room, 'kay?"

"Mmph...carry me..." Everything feels so weighted. He's warm and the position he's in is comfortable. He doesn't want to move and turn cold again.

"Sorry love." He can hear the smile in Geoff's voice. "I'm carrying something I think you'll like a lot more."

"Hm?"

Geoff holds up a large bag. He waves it around for a few seconds, just enough time for Awsten to detect the beginnings of a green logo...

Could it be-

"Holy shit, did you get me Whole Foods?" He tries to keep his voice level as not to wake Nia.

"Maybe." Geoff smirks at him. He reaches out for the bag but Geoff hefts it higher than he can stretch, swings it back and forth while keeping it up in the air. "Back to your room love, then we can eat."

He follows Geoff out of the pediatric ward and down multiple hallways. Geoff uses his shoulder to push open one of the doors to the adult ward, holds it open for him and then walks behind him until they finally reach his room.

"I don't think I've ever loved you more." He says the words through a mouthful of food, five minutes later. He smiles, as Geoff reaches out to wipe at the side of his mouth with a finger. Geoff licks his finger and he rolls his eyes, leans in for a kiss that ends up being a quick peck. He takes another bite and closes his eyes. "Oh my god..."

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Geoff asks. "Since you've had outside food?"

"Oh hell yeah," he mutters. "The crap they have here is so disgusting, jesus christ..."

He's been back in the hospital for almost a month now. They let him out a couple months ago, let him go home and go back to school and try to become a normal seventeen year old, one whose home isn't a hospital ward and whose reality isn't the rarity of his disease.

And then it happened and now he's back here. It feels like he never left. He knows more of the white walls and antiseptic smell and nurses coming in ever few hours to check his blood pressure and change his IV fluid, of constantly being asked if he's okay, the pokes and prods and needles shoved in his skin, the cannula they forced into his arm and chemotherapy treatments that inject so much chemical into his bloodstream that everything in his body is rushing to get out, like it's the relative no one wants to see at a family gathering and everyone is doing their best to get away.

There's a point, when you live in a hospital, where everything starts to blur together. It all mashes into one, one large ball of prods and pokes and people everywhere, grabbing and pushing and turn over here, no not like that, I need to take some blood, come on Awsten, jut cooperate, okay? Why do you always have to be so difficult?

Some days it doesn't feel like anything anymore. He exists on a separate plane from everyone else, watching his physical form stare at the wall limply. Nurses come and go, lift his arms and shove things into his skin, wrap blood pressure cuffs around his biceps and change his IV fluid, and all he can do is lay there, force his eyes open and try not to retreat back into himself.

You're never alone in a hospital.

"Aws?" He shakes his head and blinks rapidly, lets his eyes come back into focus. Geoff's smile is gone. He's leaning toward him, brow furrowed, sandwich abandoned in its container. "You okay?"

He forces the corners of his lips upward. "Yeah."

"You can't lie to me, sunshine."

"I'm fine," he insists. He puts his own sandwich down and tilts his head to brush his lips against Geoff's. "I love you. Thank you for this."

Geoff uses one arm to shove the food boxes off to the side and scoots forward in the same motion. Awsten jumps, as he takes him into his arms and presses a long kiss against the top of his shoulder. "I love you so much. Please don't shut me out, okay? I want to help you. I'm here to help you."

"You are," he murmurs. "Trust me, you are."

...

September 5th, 2017 – 9:46 AM

"What's this for?"

"I'm not too sure, sunshine." He tightens the wrap around Awsten's bicep and walks his hand down his arm. When he gets to his elbow, he digs his fingers into Awsten's skin, feels around for the vein that should hurt him the least. The most prominent veins are the easiest to stick. "They didn't tell me that."

There are so many needle scars on his arm already. He's spent his entire life being poked and prodded like a science experiment, so much so that he doesn't even have to turn away now. Geoff remembers those days, years before he started training to become a nurse, when he would sit in the chair and hold Awsten on his lap and try to distract him to keep his gaze away from his arm.

It's a pang, a sort of sting that embeds itself into his chest and stabs at his heart. He swallows.

He's wanted to be a nurse for most of his life. Awsten being sick only fueled it. He remembers growing up, spending all his teen years in the hospital by Awsten's side, holding his hand during the chemo treatments and promising through tears that everything would be alright for surgery after surgery.

He's lived this alongside Awsten, but Awsten's been the one going through it all, dealing with the tests and surgeries and chemotherapy treatments, he's the one who was forced to give up a childhood and a normal life to be stuck with white walls and sterilized tubes and overwhelming antiseptic, he's the one whose life will never be any semblance of ordinary. This is his life. He had to give everything up.

He had to give everything up.

There's a lump in his throat. His vision is starting to blur. His eyes are getting misty.

He's wanted to be a nurse for most of his life.

This is one patient he never thought he'd have to treat.

"How much do you need this time?" Awsten's voice isn't high. He doesn't sound shaky or scared. His tone is level. He's not meeting his gaze. His eyes are on his lap, where he's picking at a loose thread on his sweatpants with his other hand.

Geoff shakes his head to clear it. The ache behind his eyes is a balloon that's about to pop. It's pressing against his skull, full of tears, about to rip and tear and spill. It's about to spill. Everything's about to spill. "Not much." He forces his voice to stay steady as he presses the needle into Awsten's skin.

Awsten doesn't even flinch.

He watches the needle go in and keeps his eyes there until Geoff pulls it out and presses gauze against the wound. Geoff drags in a breath, hiccups and tries not to let a sob slip with it.

But sure enough, "Gee? You okay?"

He swallows again. The lump in his throat throbs. His head aches as he lifts it. He looks at Awsten, at his wide eyes and skinny frame, at the thin hair that's just barely started to grow back and look how it used to before the chemicals ripped it all out. He looks down at the gauze he's still holding to Awsten's arm and then at the two tubes of his blood now placed in the sterilized box.

"Yeah, love. I'm fine."

...

"Awsie!"

"Why's Nurse W here?"

"What's the guitar for?"

He exchanges a look with Geoff and smiles, surveys the room and lets his gaze stop on Lily, whose eyes are fixated on him. "Geoff was telling me about a certain someone – or someones – being naughty?" He glances over at Geoff. "Right?"

Geoff's eyes are wide when he answers, "They just don't wanna eat their lunches, Aws. I didn't know what else to do."

"That's not fair!"

"I don't like it."

"It's gross..."

He nods. "I know, guys. The food sucks." He shouldn't even be preaching right now, shouldn't be telling them to eat what's on their plates, because more often than not he throws his own plates out and makes Jawn bring him Whole Foods. "But the nurses get all annoying and yell-y about it 'cause you're all on meds, okay? If you don't eat you'll get sick."

"He's right," Geoff says from behind. "But I'm glad you think I'm annoying, babe. Nice to know."

Jacob starts to 'oooooh' and Nia and Matty quickly follow. They're grinning widely at them, wide eyes and red cheeks paired with large smiles.

He rolls his eyes and leans back to peck Geoff's check. "Oh shut up. You know what I meant."

"Do I?"

"Yeah." His cheeks are growing hot. He drops his head and leans in to whisper into Geoff's ear, "and you are distracting them."

"Well," Geoff murmurs, breath warm against his ear. "You're distracting me." He closes his eyes as their lips slide together, feels Geoff's arm move down to his waist. Just as he reaches up to wrap his own arm around Geoff's neck, Geoff breaks the kiss and takes a step back.

"Uh..." Everything is so hot. His fingers are brushing Geoff's shoulder. He stretches his hand out more, grips onto him and takes a step back so they're standing next to each other. His lips are still tingling.

"But anyway, as Awsten was saying," Geoff continues. "You guys finish your lunches, and he's gonna sing you a song." He glances over. "Right, Aws?"

"R-right," he says faintly.

...

"Alright, what song are we doing?"

"You should sing one of yours," Geoff says. He unzips the guitar case and kneels in front of it to pull the instrument out. "Maybe not something...too sad, if you can? They've cried enough today."

He rolls his eyes and starts to flip through his journal. It may as well be called a songbook by now. At first it was messy feelings, but now they all come out in pretty metaphors that are inadvertently lyrical. "I live in a hospital, the fuck did you expect?"

"You gotta have something happy," Geoff insists. "It's not all white walls and hospital floors, is it?"

"And antiseptic smell," he mutters with a grin. "But no, yeah, I got something."

"You gonna give me the chords, or?"

"It's that one," he says. He forces himself to smile and reaches for one of Geoff's hands briefly. "The one I came up with that right? You helped me write some of it?"

"Aws..."

He swallows and looks down at the floor. "You got it?"

"Yeah."

"Awsie!"

"What song are you playing?"

"Do the pink one!"

"I like the silver one!"

"Does it have to be a color one?"

He takes a breath and keeps the smile plastered on his face, steps back to stand next to the stool Geoff's sitting on and leans his hip against it. He has to inhale again, looking out to all of their smiling faces. Nia's talking excitedly to Lily, nudging her shoulder and whispering loudly in her ear. Lily is smiling and nodding, but her gaze is focused on him. Jacob is pressed against Toby's side, saying something to him, to which Toby smiles and brushes a hand through his hair. Georgia has Rosie on her lap, and she's smiling and nodding as the two year old grabs a lock of her hair and starts to babble nonsense. He has to smile at Matty, who's trying very hard to have a silent conversation with Geoff, making an obvious effort to mouth words. You can do this. Breathe. You can do this. They're probably not gonna get it anyway.

Georgia and Toby will.

But the others won't.

They're counting on you.

You can do this.

"This is a new one," he says, tries to keep his voice level. "I wrote it a few months ago, with Geoff, actually. It's the first time I've sung it since, so...yeah, I guess. This is, I'll Always Be Around."

...

September 8th, 2017 – 3:37 PM

"Awsten? Kiddo, hey, can you come here a sec?"

Geoff stops.

It feels like the words jump-started his heart, shocked it backs into continuation of the never-ending marathon it's been running. The world stops for a second, pauses where it is and tilts slightly, goes fuzzy at the ends and allows the black to creep in.

Awsten's head doctor usually leaves everything up to the rest of his team. He doesn't join in unless things are particularly bad, unless he has a piece of news to give that is anything but standard. He isn't called in unless it's big, unless whatever's going on requires a more drastic treatment or everything needs to be changed. Calling Awsten to his office...

The blood test.

The results.

The results are in.

"I promised Georgia..." Awsten trails off. His words start to get softer by the end. He knows. He's been in here long enough to know what this means. He knows what this means. He knows exactly what this is. He knows. Geoff's heart is racing. It's hotcoldhotcoldhotcold fuckfuckfuck- "Y-Yeah. What's up?"

Geoff wrenches his head up to meet the man's eyes. They exchange a glance. He needs to be in the room Awsten can't be doing this alone he needs to be with him he needs to be with him he needs to be in that room with him- and fortunately, he receives a nod and a small hand gesture. He sets his binder on the nurses' station, ignores her calling after him irritably who's chart is this, Geoff? You can't just leave it wherever you want and expect us to...

He jogs to catch up and falls into place beside Awsten, reaches for his hand and squeezes tightly. It's already clammy, slick with sweat. Awsten is shaking. He swallows. Nonononopleasenonononono-

They sit down in the office. He keeps a tight hold on Awsten's hand and tries to take some deep breaths for himself. You are not allowed to panic right now. You cannot panic. Awsten needs you more than you need to panic. Awsten needs you more than you need to panic.

Awsten needs you more than you need to panic.

"What's going on?" Awsten's voice is so shaky. He tries to push his chair closer, gives his hand another tight squeeze. Awsten doesn't even acknowledge it. His gaze stays fixated on the doctor.

The man sighs. "We've been running tests for a couple weeks now, kid. That's what taking bone marrow and doing scans and drawing blood all those times was for. We wanted to make sure we were completely right before saying anything."

"W-What do you mean?"

Geoff swallows. His breath catches in his throat and he clenches his teeth in attempt not to cough. Please no please it can't be that please don't let it be that please he can't deal with this he doesn't need this please don't let it be that pleasepleaseplease-

"When we got your bone marrow sample back," he says. "We found some abnormalities in your white blood cells. That didn't necessarily mean – we had to do a lot more tests and imaging before we were able to confirm anything."

"Just say it." Awsten's voice is so soft. "Please. I need you to say it."

"Awsten-"

"Just tell me!"

"We did so many tests, did the same ones over again, tried to explain this any other way we possibly could...but everything came back the same. The results all point to one thing." He takes a heavy breath and shakes his head.

"Your cancer's back. I'm so sorry, kiddo."

There's a moment. Everything stops. The world is still. Someone hit the pause button.

And then it plays.

And Awsten runs.

...

"Aws- Awsten, hey, stop."

"Let go of me, Geoff!"

He struggles against Geoff's grip, pushes at his arms and fights against the tightening around his abdomen. "I mean it, let me go!"

"No." Geoff's voice is right next to his ear. He feels his breath warming his skin, feels the arms move up to his chest and wrap around him even tighter. "Just breathe, sunshine. I promise it'll be okay."

"No it won't!" The words end in a sob. He shoves at Geoff's chest again, keeps pushing and resisting. Gotta get out gotta go I can't be here it'sbackit'sbackit'sback-

I can't be here I can't do this let me go please let me go I need to be alone I can't do this anymore I don't want it why is this my life why does this keep happening why is it happening to me I don't want this anymore pleasepleaseplease- it'sbackit'sbackit'sback-

It's back.

The scream starts low, at the back of his throat. It feels like his vocal chords are tearing as it comes up. Everything hurts. His chest is open and the poison is flooding in and everything is burning the world is on fire he can't see can't move can't breathe what's going on why won't it stop it'sbackit'sbackit'sback-

"C'mon love," Geoff is saying. "Deep breaths. With me, okay? I'm right here. It's all gonna be okay, I promise."

"D-Don't," he gasps it out and then drops his head. Everything is blurry. He's squinting at the ground. His vision is squid-inked, black spots dancing and moving all around, combining together to obstruct everything. Can't see can't see can't see– it'sbackit'sbackit'sback-

Everything is on fire. The world is white-hot. It's burning it's all burning it's hot everything's hot it's moving it's hot it's too hot it won't stop nothing will stop why won't it stop it won't stop-

He can't see. He needs more air.

There's no more air.

He needs more air there's no more air he needs more air there's no more air he needs more air there's no more air he needs more air-

It's back it's here it's happening all over again I don't want it please nonono take it away I can't do this take it away I don't want it please I'm sorry please I don't want it I don't want it I don't want it-

There's pressure against his arms. The hands clasp his biceps and push him back. He feels the hard surface digging into his spine. His stomach is churning. Everything is spinning. Can't see can't move can't breathe redwhitehotredwhitehotredwhitehot-

"...breathe, Awsten..."

"...sunshine..."

"...doing...well..."

He hears bits and pieces. They all sound far away, like Geoff's voice is being transmitted through a vocoder from another room. It's distant. Everything's distant. He's floating. The world is getting smaller and smaller. He's going higher; ascending into a separate plane of existence where his body is not a battlefield the latest fight just broke out on.

The next breath barely feels like one. It fuels the burn in his chest, the smoldering of his lungs and hiss of everything charring to a crisp and floating down to dig into his chest cavity. It hurts. Everything hurts. It won't stop. It hurts.

It's back it's back it's back it's back it's back it's back it's back it'sbackit'sbackit'sback-

It's back.

...

September 8th, 2017 – 8:32 PM

"It's gonna be okay, sunshine."

He tousles his fingers through Awsten's hair and kisses the back of his head. Awsten sniffles, scoots up slightly and then lets his head flop back. "S-Sorry, I just..."

"Don't start," he mutters.

Awsten does this all the time. When they're alone, in private, it's like he turns into an infinite thank you note, exploding with 'I'm sorrys' and 'thanks for putting up with mes', overflowing and letting them pour out of him like he's a cup that needs to be emptied periodically. "You have nothing to be sorry for, love-"

"Geoff, thank god, there you are." He jumps, hears the door banging open and one of the on-duty night nurses call for him. "I know you're off today, but Jacob's crying and we're short on staff 'cause of the storm, can you help?"

"I-" He starts to say. Movement cuts him off. Awsten pushes out of his hold and slides to the floor, wipes a hand down his face and makes his way out of the room without a word.

He takes a breath and climbs off the bed too, exchanges a glance with the nurse as he makes his way out of the room and picks up into a slight jog in the direction of the pediatric ward. Awsten's long gone from the halls. He moves through quickly, comes to a stop in front of the double doors and pushes through, straight over to Jacob's bed.

"...thunder, okay? Wanna tell me why?" Awsten is curled up on the mattress next to Jacob. He's lying on his side with Jacob's head against his chest and his arm wrapped around Jacob's shoulders.

"I-It's just noise." Jacob's voice is barely audible, especially from Geoff's position at the foot of the bed. Awsten is louder, but not by much. Neither of them notices – or if they have, they aren't paying any attention to – his presence. He tugs his stethoscope to sit properly around his neck and takes a tiny step backward. "J-Just noise..."

Outside, the sky rumbles with another loud crack. The lights flicker briefly. They're gone for less than a second, but it's still enough to make Jacob jump and whimper, turn onto his side and tighten his arms around Awsten's waist.

"It's gonna be okay, love," Awsten murmurs. He presses a kiss against the crown of Jacob's head and hugs him closer. "It's just noise. It'll pass like it always does. You'll go to sleep and have nice, happy dreams, and when you wake up it'll be all gone, I promise."

"I'm scared..."

Geoff swallows. The words feel like a stab to his heart, a Jacob-sized missile that's large enough to burn a hole through the muscle. It starts a fire that stokes and sparks and burns, an ache in his chest that spreads quickly, smolders everything in its path and turns the entire cavity to flame.

"You wanna know what I do when I get scared?" Awsten hums.

"What?"

"I do something to get my mind off it." Awsten removes one arm from his body and stretches to the other side of the bed, pulls a book from the stack on top of Jacob's nightstand. "When I stop thinking so much about what's scaring me, it gets easier."

"R-Really?"

"Really." Geoff inhales, stares at the large smile on Awsten's face; he's grinning with his teeth, crinkling at the corners of his eyes and stretching so wide his cheeks look like they hurt. "Now where were we?"

"Harry's just about ta be sorted!"

"Oh!" Awsten's eyes go wide. "That's a really good part! What house do you think he'll be put in?"

"Slytherin!"

"What? Why?"

Jacob is giggling by now. The tears on his face are starting to dry up. His cheeks are pink and his smile is bright. He was sobbing ten minutes ago, and now he can't stop smiling.

Just noise.

...

September 12th, 2017 – 2:26 PM

They have a name for these days.

Amongst the nurses, they're called 'sudden death'.

The days when someone's kid is sick and someone else went on vacation and forgot to alert everyone else, when circumstances have piled in and formed a bullet that shoots the entire hospital in its foot. They have too many patients and not enough staff and that means they have to overcompensate and a job meant for six nurses has to now be done by three.

Having practically grown up in this hospital, he's been around for more than he can count.

You can tell by a nurse's tone of voice, the manner in which they handle things, their pace; the tells of 'sudden death' are hardly difficult to spot. People are grumpy and annoyed when they're stressed. It takes a special kind of person to shove that all back in and lock it far enough that it doesn't come oozing and seeping out into their personality.

And sure, Geoff is a really special person, but he's not that special.

The kids have all needed something today. Everyone's been fussy and grumpy and tired; they're spiking fevers and running around all over the place, tired of being cooped up inside but too unwell to be taken out for a walk. The cabin fever is setting in with Geoff's resolve headed closer and closer to the bin.

He can see it on Geoff's face. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lip is pulled between his teeth as he scribbles something into a chart. His hair is a mess, his scrubs are stained with something – some kid probably threw up on him and he hasn't had time to change – and his eyes are red.

He wants to say something, wants to slip behind him and wrap his arms around his waist, wants to breathe you're doing great, love. I know you're stressed and everything's a lot, but you're handling it really well against his ear, but he knows it wouldn't help. He knows Geoff has a lot of work to do, and distracting him – even if it is to try and help him relax a little – will only stress him out even more.

The news has felt like a hurricane. A natural disaster that's eclipsed their worlds and turned them on the side. It feels like that. The world's been turned 90 degrees, flipped onto its side, but everything hasn't moved with it. The world has changed but everything else hasn't and the limbo is lingering.

It's too much. It's all too much.

"Nurse W?"

"Nurse W..."

"Nurse W!"

Geoff jumps. The binder wobbles on the tray he was leaning on, and crashes to the ground. He blows out a heavy sigh and leans down to pick it up. "Give me a second, Matthew."

Awsten winces. He looks over at Matty, barely catches a glimpse of his wide eyes and quivering lip, before tiny footsteps pound against the tile floor and the four-year-old runs out of the room.

He sighs.

Matty's had a rough day. He spiked a fever overnight, so the nurses have been all over him, checking his vitals every hour to make sure he hasn't caught an infection. He's been bound to his bed in case there actually is something wrong, which doesn't bode well for a hyperactive four year old that loves to run around and play. He doesn't do well without his daily playroom time.

"Aws, fuck, I didn't mean to, could you..." Geoff trails off. He shakes his head and looks down at the chart in his hands.

"I got him," he replies. He knows exactly where Matty'll be. His favorite place in the hospital is that damn playroom. It's not much compared to a child's playroom at home, but the hospital has manage to accumulate a ton of board games, along with a foosball table, a pool table, and multiple video game systems. The room is massive, with tons of windows and brightly colored walls. And the kids spend every minute they can spare inside; a reminder of the future to tide them over. "Hey love, everything's okay. Geoff's just grumpy today. He has a lot of work to do because some of the other nurses didn't come in."

"He's mad at me," comes the tiny voice. He follows it to the edge of the foosball table, kneels down and presses his ear to the ground, sees Matty curled up underneath. "I made him mad."

Awsten sighs. His heart feels like it's being pulled, like Matty's piece is trying to break away from the others and descend into the bottom of his stomach. It's this ache that funnels out from deep in his chest, awakens every time one of the kids is upset and coats everything with a light layer of pain. "I promise he's not, Mats. He knows you've had a hard day and you didn't mean to bother him."

"I hate staying in bed."

He smiles. "I know you do, kid. The doctors were just worried today, hm." He scoots closer to the edge of the table and stretches a hand out. "When you guys randomly get fevers in the middle of the night, it means something bad could be happening. They just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"But Awsie, I feel fine," Matty insists. "I don't feel sick 'nymore."

"That's great, dude!" He exclaims. He drops his voice down for the next few words, "how about we go on a little adventure to celebrate, hm?"

"An adventure?" Matty's eyes seem to light up. He pushes up on his hands and stretches to connect his back with the bottom of the table. "Cool!"

"For sure, kiddo," Awsten replies. "Come on out, let's go do something cool!"

Getting Matty to sit in a wheelchair is a bit more of a struggle. He insists he's fine, pushes at Awsten's hands and whines when he rolls the chair up behind him, I don't wanna sit in thaaaat, why can't I just walk like a normal person? It takes a good five minutes to convince him, it's a special kind of adventure, okay? It'll be so much cooler in the chair, I promise.

But soon enough, they're off. He grips the handlebars tightly, gives the chair a hard push, and starts to sprint after it. Matty's giggles can be heard all the way down the hall. He catches up to the chair and grabs the handlebars again, keeps his stride and runs straight ahead, into the elevator that's just opened.

"Press a button," he instructs Matty, once the doors have closed.

"Which one?"

"Any one you want."

The elevator surges upward. The doors open with a ding.

He's not even sure what floor this is.

He grips the handlebars and shoves the wheelchair forward.

And then he's running all over again.

...

September 14th, 2017 – 5:48 PM

Something shoves at his shoulder.

It's gone before he has a chance to see what it is. He stops, clutches his clipboard against his chest and turns around.

Awsten's footsteps are loud, smacking against the tile floor. He has his head down and his arms drawn into his body. He speedwalks past Geoff and disappears down the hall, turns a corner out of view and vanishes completely.

"Dammit..." He looks up, makes eye contact with Awsten's head doctor, and grits his teeth.

"What the hell happened?" He mutters. He drops his clipboard off at the nurses' station, Parker, room 302, he's all set for the night, and walks right up to where the other man is standing. "What did you say to him?"

"Geoff," the man sighs. "We just scheduled his chemo treatments. He's starting tomorrow."

"He's...what?"

Everything goes cold. He feels the ice, feels it travel up his veins and seep into his bones like he was just dunked in a vat of frigid liquid.

"Yeah," Awsten's doctor replies. "First thing tomorrow, we've got a chair all ready for him. We're doing it in cycles this time, so he's gonna have the first infusion tomorrow, and then a couple weeks of rest. That'll give his body some time to make new, healthy cells."

"Fuck," he whispers. "He, I- fuck..."

"Go," the man murmurs. "I'll take care of your other patients. He needs someone with him right now."

He nods. His hands are shaking. He feels it in his legs too, like they're the consistency of jello and won't carry him any further if he tries to walk. He forces down a swallow and turns around.

And he runs.

...

His chest hurts.

It's a thorn in his side, a stabbing pain that keeps shooting and getting worse the faster he goes. It's the kind of pain he knows will get worse if he stops. He can't stop running. He needs to find Awsten. Can't stop running need to find Awsten can't stop where is he where is he where is it-

Not in his room. Not in the pediatric ward. Not in the playroom. None of the kids seem like they've seen him. Geoff doesn't want to say anything, doesn't want to ask Georgia or Toby whether he's passed by, they don't need to know. You don't need to scare the. They don't need to know.

"Fucking hell, where is he?" He grunts. "Aws? Awsten!"

He finds himself in Awsten's room once again, surveying the nightstand – his journal is still sitting there, like always – and the bed – his phone isn't there, so he must have it with him. He rakes a hand through his hair with a shaky gasp. "Fuck, Aws, where are you?"

That's when he hears it.

It's tiny. The sound is smaller than he's heard from Awsten in a long time. If he didn't know any better, he'd think it was one of the kids. It almost sounds like Matty or Nia on a bad day. They're the most vocal about it. Lily never says anything and Jacob is starting to follow in Toby's footsteps, not expressing unless he's asked.

"Oh, sunshine..." he sighs. He steps around in front of the bathroom – the door is open, why the fuck didn't he bother looking the first time he was here – and bites his lip. He moves further into the bathroom, a few feet behind Awsten, and looks over him, into the mirror.

There are tears rolling down his cheeks. His eyes are red. He's perched on the bathroom counter, fiddling with an electric razor, trying to plug it into the outlet next to the sink. It keeps slipping out of his hands because they're shaking so much.

"Aws..."

"Please don't shave your head too." The words are punctuated by a sob. He slides off the counter and takes a couple steps to meet Geoff in the middle of the bathroom. He reaches up and tangles a hand in Geoff's hair, swallows heavily. "You're just starting to look like yourself again. And it- it reminds me of what I lost."

He shaved his head. He remembers the day, remembers feeling the realization, the start against his chest as Awsten sat up in a flurry and burst into tears. He remembers the grip, how tightly he held him, lips pressed against his head and fingers running rapidly through his hair, it's just hair, sunshine. It doesn't define you. You'll still be beautiful. He remembers the lasting kiss, leaving his lips against Awsten's head for a while, and hey, it'll grow back, y'know? It's a reminder of what you're going through. How strong you are. It'll grow back when all of this is over and you can dye it whatever color you want and you'll always remember what it took to get you there. It's just hair, love. Okay? Just hair.

He remembers waiting until Awsten had finally drifted into sleep, going straight to the bathroom and turning on the razor without a second thought.

The lump in his throat is throbbing. His vision is starting to blur, slightly misty and foggy at the edges. He reaches out and pulls Awsten into his arms. Awsten snakes his own arms around his back and they stay there. He tightens his grip and Awsten grabs fistfuls of his shirt and no one moves. Nothing moves. They stay.

When he pulls back, it's just a tad, only enough to keep Awsten at arm's length, "what if neither of us shave our heads?"

"Geoff, I can't," Awsten says quietly. He drops his head down. "I can't watch it gradually-" His breath hitches. "Just...fall out."

"Hey, whoa, breathe." Geoff tightens his arm around Awsten's back and presses another kiss to his head.

What's a color you've always wanted your hair to be?"

...

September 15th, 2017 – 9:56 AM

"Alright kiddo, just attaching this last bag, and...you're all set, okay? It's gonna be a while, though, so make yourself comfy."

"Can...can he stay?"

Geoff swallows. The words feel like a bullet sent spiraling into the bottom of his heart. Awsten owns it, climbed into his chest and claimed it so long ago, sits on top with the most beautiful smile on his face and both hands under his chin, faced turned up to the sky. Awsten has the largest part of his heart, the same part that's been stitched over and glued together and hangs, from the thinnest thread. Awsten has it and he keeps breaking it.

"I took today off," he says, before the nurse has a chance to speak. "Tomorrow too. And I can take Wednesday if you need me to. I'm here, sunshine. You've got me."

They knew. Awsten's doctor was ready to fight if he had to, make sure, if anyone says anything to you, you send them to me, okay? The kid has no one and I'll be damned if they don't let you stay with him. The hospital didn't give him any trouble, and up until this point, he's been allowed to be in the room for everything. They needed to do a blood test and even let him be the one to do it, let him practice medicine on his day off because Awsten was getting panicky and this could not be the first blood draw in years that ended in tragedy.

"Of course he can stay," the nurse says. "I'll be back in a little while to check on you, okay? You know to press the button if you need anything, so just...good luck, sweetheart. Let's hope you don't react too badly."

Geoff drops to his knees in front of Awsten once she's out of the room, grabs both his hands and squeezes. "You doing okay, love? Still feel sick?"

Awsten shrugs and turns his head away. "I dunno."

"Your hair looks pretty." He leans up to brush his fingers through the newly dyed blue strands. They put a ton of conditioner in after the bleach and the result is so soft. He can't stop playing with it.

"Shut up."

"Hey," he murmurs. He squeezes Awsten's hands again, swings them back and forth. "It's gonna be okay, sunshine. We'll get through this."

"I just-" Awsten's face seems to crumple. He bites his lip and lets out a dry sob. "I thought it was over. I thought I was finally getting my life back. I thought- I thought I was done with this..."

Geoff stops there. He has to.

The ache is giant. It feels too big. It's right behind his eyes, a malleable balloon that's seconds away from popping. It lodges itself in, presses against the rut in his skull, and keeps going. The pocket of tears feels too full. It all feels too full. Everything is too full.

He doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't know what words to string together, what message to send, how to breathe reassurances into a body that's already beyond fallen apart. He doesn't know how to keep saying it'll be okay, you'll beat it, you've got this, I promise it'll all be okay, because he doesn't.

He doesn't know if it'll be okay.

Awsten's cheeks are red. His eyes are glassy. His lip is quivering. His hands are clammy in Geoff's, damp and slick with sweat. He looks so small in the chair, with his skinny shoulders and tiny frame, a child in a near adult's body living a life he never wanted.

He swallows and stands up on his knees, surges forward and takes Awsten into his arms – as best he can without disturbing the IV – and kisses the side of his head. He holds him for a while, keeps his lips against his skin and his eyes closed. Sunshine.

"What can I do?" The words feel hollow. It's like someone punched a hole through his chest and the pieces are dangling, bone fragments hanging from tiny threads, teetering over falling to their deaths and embedding themselves deep into the bottom of his chest cavity.

"The kids," Awsten whispers. His voice is thick. "Don't say anything to them, okay? They don't need to know."

...

"Easy, love, there you go, you're okay. Deep breaths, you're doing so well."

The aftereffects of the chemo don't waste any time. He rubs Awsten's back as he gags again, winces and tries to keep hold of the basin while still supporting Awsten's body. Awsten lets out a sob in between heaves. Tears are pouring down his cheeks. His hair is plastered to his forehead, sticky with sweat.

"Geoff..." Awsten whimpers. The spell seems to be over (for now, at the very least), but he doesn't lift his head. "It hurts."

"I know, sunshine. I'm sorry." He winds his arm tighter around Awsten's back and moves the basin off to the side. "You think you're done for now?"

"I dunno."

"Sunshine..."

"They probably think I left them." Awsten's voice is hoarse, raspy from all the vomit. "They're gonna be so mad at me, I- fuck." He scrambles against Geoff's arm and grabs for the basin, moves his head over it just in time to gag once more.

Geoff sighs and rubs his back, reaches over to hold the container on Awsten's lap. "Careful, sweetheart. You're gonna really hurt yourself if you keep doin' this."

"Already did," come the words, soft with a hint of rasp. "You- you should go ta them. They need you-" He pauses and shifts with a grimace. "M-more than I do. M'used to this."

"Stop." He tightens his grip around Awsten's waist. Awsten turns to look at him, and he exhales, shakes his head and runs a finger across Awsten's sweaty cheek. "I took the week off. You know that. You're my priority right now. The kids are fine, love. The other nurses have them." He sighs and leans in to kiss Awsten's hair. "You take care of everyone, sunshine. Now it's my turn to take care of you."

He's never reacted well to chemo. Geoff remembers the first time, remembers when he learned what it meant to 'feel your heart sink into your stomach'. He remembers standing at the edge of Awsten's bed with tears in his eyes, feeling bugs stinging his skin and the blood rushing in his ears, like Awsten was on fire and he'd turned into gasoline.

The vomiting doesn't start until afterward, until the chemicals have had a chance to seep into his bloodstreams and settle in amongst the cells. It takes them a while to adjust, but once they do, the damage begins.

He throws up everything in his system and cries, burns up with a fever that fries, all whilst the chemo wreaks havoc on his body. Geoff watches and winces and feels more pieces of his heart chip off, feels them drop and press into the bottom of his chest and sting, bleed, you're fucking useless why can't you do anything fucking do something you useless piece of shit. He doesn't deserve to suffer like this.

He doesn't deserve to suffer like this.

"G-Gee?" He blinks and refocuses on Awsten, pulls his teeth in with his lip and presses down. "I'm c-cold..." He's shivering. His teeth are chattering loudly. "M-make it stop..."

Geoff swallows and moves his hand up to Awsten's forehead. He has to pull it away almost instantly, lean back and shake his hand out before he wraps it around Awsten's waist again. "You're burning up, sweetheart. Lemme just go get a cloth..." He squirms, tries to push Awsten's arms away and detach himself. "Love, you gotta let go."

"No." Awsten's voice is so small. "Warm."

"Yeah, you are, sunshine. Your fever is high." Geoff sighs. His heart feels like it's bleeding, like every word is a separate slash and every piece is sailing away on a raft of its own. "This'll help, I promise."

"I got it."

He inhales sharply as he lifts his head; watches Otto take a couple steps up to the edge of the bed and place a folded washcloth in the middle of Awsten's forehead. His own hair is shoved into a beanie and his eyes are downcast. He straightens the fabric on Awsten's head and leans in to brush his lips against his hair.

"I didn't- they didn't say you were-"

"You haven't picked up your phone in days," Otto murmurs. "Jawn and I were worried. He wanted ta come with, but he got called into work. I didn't..." He trails off and shakes his head. "Why didn't you tell me, Geoff? He's your boyfriend, but he's...he's important to me too. You know that."

"I..." He looks down at Awsten, whose eyes are closed. His breathing is starting to deepen. "I didn't know what to say. How to say it, I guess? I don't know anything anymore. M'just..." He swallows. "I can't feel. Not right now. Not while he's feeling everything."

"You can." Otto glances behind himself and reaches for one of the chairs that are been backed against the wall. He slides it over and turns it around, sits backward and grips onto the bars at the back. "With me."

...

"I can't do this. Not when he's like this, I just-"

Geoff cuts himself off, tightens his grip around Awsten and keeps his eyes trained there. He waits for him to continue, to pick up where he left off and finish the thought, but the words don't seem to come.

"He's asleep," he says. "And he has a fever so it's a pretty fuckin' deep sleep. You're okay, Geoff. Let it all out."

"I can't," Geoff grounds out. His voice sounds choked. It's like there's gravel in his throat, a new piece tangling with every word. "He needs me not to. I can't have my feelings right now. They're not important."

He sighs and stands, walks back over to the side of the bed and reaches for one of Geoff's hands. "They're always important."

Geoff does this. He always has. He represses and pulls in, absorbs every last ounce of what he's feeling to put it in this tiny bottle and lodge that in the hollows of his chest. He squeezes out whatever he can, has a breakdown in the staff room or bursts into tears while he's getting ready, turns on the waterworks for a minute and then forces them off, forces it down, forces everything away.

"His cancer's back," Geoff says the words to Awsten's head. He won't look up. "It's back and it might be worse than before we don't know and he's back on chemo and everything's happening all at once and I don't have time for this." He finally lifts his head. His eyes are glassy and red-rimmed. "I have him and the kids and all the fucking work I have to do here I just can't-" A dry sob. "I just can't."

"You don't have to," Otto replies. He leans forward to wrap his arms around Geoff's shoulders, careful to avoid disturbing Awsten. He can feel the sleeve of his shirt starting to dampen. He winces. "Not right now. Right now is yours, okay? You don't have to be anything for anyone. It's okay. Just breathe, alright? I gotcha."

It's silent for a few minutes. Geoff cries quietly against him, silent tears that are soaking into the fabric of his shirt. "I'm so scared. All the time. I'm so fucking scared this might be it. That I might-" A breath that ends in a sob. "I'm so fucking scared I might lose him."

The ache behind his eyes is big. He wants to cry too. Everything hurts.

He swallows and tightens his grip, starts to rub Geoff's upper back. "You won't. He's gonna be okay. I know he is. He's survived the worst and he'll survive this too. You know him. You know how much he's been through. He's so strong. He's not going down without a fight."

"I don't know how much fight he has left."

...

September 21st, 2017 – 2:38 PM

"Awsie!"

"Whoa!"

"It's blue!"

"Your hair's so pretty!"

He swallows against the lump in his throat and forces the smile to say on his face. Nothing is wrong. They don't need to know. Nothing is wrong. You can't tell them. They don't need to know. They don't need to worry. Nothing is wrong.

The last six days have been the worst he's had in a very long time. He doesn't remember the last time it was this bad, can't recall a time previously when pulling himself out of bed didn't feel like his body weighed a thousand tons and merely opening his eyes formed a very large lump in his throat that fortified itself with steel.

He's been staying away. The chemo is hard. It hurts. His body feels like a battlefield but the war's barely started. Every side effect is a new battle, a new tiff that breaks out and wreaks havoc. It feels like he's bleeding, all the time. Every day he's being sliced open a different way, and the pieces that are left don't fit together anymore.

"You like it?"

"Yeah!" The vigorous nod comes from Nia. "It's awesome!"

"Thanks, love," he says. He steps over to her bed and shifts Rosie against his hip to ruffle her hair. "How've you been today?"

"Missed you." Nia ignores the question and holds her arms out. "Where'd you go?"

He exhales and swallows again, feels the saliva travel downward and settle in his stomach heavily. Nothing is wrong. They don't need to know. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong. "I just got really busy with my family and stuff." He pauses, tries to keep his voice steady. "But I really missed you guys."

A silence falls over the room. He bites his lip. Toby and Georgia are looking at him. He can see the confusion on their faces. Their gazes are burning into his back. They don't believe you they don't believe you they don't-

He feels an arm snake around his back and exhales a shaky breath, leans into Geoff's grip and closes his eyes for a briefly. Geoff rubs his back for a few seconds and then takes a step over to Nia's bed. "And they really missed you too, so how would y'all feel about a movie night to catch up?"

"Yeah!"

"Yes!"

"Please, Awsie?"

He smiles, presses a kiss against the top of Rosie's head with a swallow. "Geoff was just telling me that he got some new movies for you guys. I think he got Moana and that other new Disney one..."

Lily is leaning so far off her bed that she looks like she's going to fall out. Her eyes are wide. She's reaching for him, making grabby hands and opening and closing her fingers. He takes a step closer, shifts Rosie on his hip and reaches for one of her hands with his free one. He tightens his hold on Rosie so he can lean down and press a kiss to her hair.

"Movie night it is." He hears Geoff say from behind. "Let's go into the playroom guys, alright?"

"Yeah!"

None of the kids have IVs in at the moment. He knows Jacob is scheduled for a vitals check in a couple hours – Lily just got back from hers, Geoff is doing Nia's right now, Matty's was done, and Rosie just finished – and Georgia and Toby know when they have to get up and come back into the ward for their checks. This is – ironically – the perfect time.

Matty jumps onto Geoff's back. He watches Jacob tap Toby's shoulder until he gives a very heavy mock sigh and crouches down too. Nia grabs Georgia's hand and starts to giggle, race you to the playroom! Boys vs. girls! Their footsteps are loud as they run out of the room and stomp down the hall.

"Ow, sweetheart." He unclasps Rosie's chubby fingers from his hair and kisses her cheek. "Careful, okay?" She babbles something he doesn't quite catch and flops against his shoulder.

"Awsie?" He feels a tug at the hem of his shirt and smiles down at Lily.

"Yeah, love?"

"Your hair's really pretty," she says softly. She moves her gaze down to stare at her lap as soon as she finishes talking.

"Thank you, Lil," he murmurs. He lifts her chin and brushes his fingers through her hair. "Come on, let's go watch the movie, hm?" He turns around and bends his knees slightly. "Climb on."

"You've got Rosie." Lily's voice is barely audible at this point. "It's okay."

"I can carry you both," he replies. His heart feels like it's being pulled, like her piece is trying to tear itself from the whole. He shifts Rosie with one arm, and uses the other to squeeze Lily's hand. "C'mere, love. We'll go watch Moana and I'll braid your hair, how's that sound?"

Lily smiles.

...

A crab is singing.

An evil crab is singing a song about something being shiny. He isn't sure what or what happened or how they got to this point, but a crab is clawing at whatever character The Rock is playing and singing about seafood and shiny things.

The younger kids are enthralled. Lily, Nia, and Matty haven't looked up since the movie began. Toby, Jacob, and Georgia seem a little less captured and Rosie probably couldn't care less, but the little kids are enjoying it.

He hasn't really been following the story. The songs are catchy and the dialogue is funny at some parts, but he hasn't been able to pull his mind out of the hole it's been sucked into.

It's all so much. It's so much and it feels so heavy and he can't move out from underneath. He can't move or breathe or escape any of it. These white walls are his reality, a physical representation of the life that feels like catastrophe.

It was starting to get better. Things were starting to go back to normal. He was starting to unstick himself from the passive as he passed into a more active role in his life. The world was starting to come back into orbit, like he'd finally come back to Earth and reentered his body again, given life to a body that had been disguised as a corpse for so long.

He was alive but never living.

The world was different too. He remembers that, when a tiny stream of light cracked through the weight on his shoulders, split it in half and started to break off pieces. He remembers feeling lighter, feeling like he was floating in the best way, overlooking cotton candy skies through newfound rollercoaster highs.

He remembers how sparkly everything started to look. The world was clearer and brighter and prettier, with glitter and shine everywhere. It felt like a dream. Like his nightmare was morphing into an existence he could get used to living in. A conclusion that was no longer confusing. The world wasn't blurry anymore. Nothing was blurry anymore.

It was a new canvas and he'd been given paints for the first time.

And then it hit. A wrecking ball that was on fire, sparking with every reminder of the existence that-

He swallows. The lump in his throat is throbbing. Everything feels far away, like he's managed to float out of his body and onto a separate layer of pain in the last twenty minutes. He blinks, refocuses his vision, and forces in a deep breath. Not now. You'll have time for this later. Not now. Not now. Not now.

He rakes a hand through his hair.

He stops.

Someone hit pause on the world. The breath has been sucked dry from his body, leeched from his bones and tugged away from his throat. It feels like sandpaper. The last thread holding his heart together has snapped and it's falling down, further and further, sinking into his stomach and rolling back on the switch that sends nausea surging up into his veins.

No. No. No.

He forces himself to look downward, moves his entire head to stare at his hands, stare at the lock of hair that has just fallen out and into his palm.

He tries to stifle it, keep it back, lodge it in his chest for later when he's back in his room and Geoff is with him- wait for Geoff wait for Geoff not now please not right now I can't do this- so it's not nearly as loud as if he'd chosen not to, but a tiny sound, a whimper leaves his throat.

He hears the gasp.

He whips his head up, locks eyes with Georgia, whose gaze is flittering from the lock of hair to him so fast he can't follow it. Her lip is already starting to quiver. Her eyes are getting glassy.

"Fuck," he curses in a whisper. He closes his fingers around the lock of hair and slips his hand into his pocket, slides out from under Lily, "I'll be right back, alright love? Just gonna go to the bathroom real quick."

He meets Georgia's eyes once again and then looks pointedly at the hallway, bites his lip, what the hell am I supposed to say to her how do I do this she wasn't supposed to find out she wasn't fuckfuckfuck-

Georgia makes her way out of the playroom and steps no further, plants her feet and crosses her arms over her chest. Her lip is wobbling dangerously and there are already tears on her cheeks.

"Georgia, love..." he sighs, shakes his head and presses harder into his lip. "I didn't, you weren't supposed to-"

"You're sick again," Georgia chokes out. Her voice is thick with tears. "Aren't you? It's back. You're getting chemo again. That's why your hair is falling out."

"Sweetheart..." His heart is constricting. It feels like she just took a sledgehammer to it, slammed into it at full force and smashed it to smithereens. Nausea is swimming up his throat. The ache behind his eyes is pulsating.

"Answer me!"

"Yeah," he says. His voice cracks. He knows he's crying too. "They found some abnormalities in my white blood cells, and-

Georgia sobs. She covers her face with her hands and cries loudly, a kind of sound that bottles itself up and comes flying toward him, bypasses every layer of skin to crash into what's left of his heart.

He surges forward and pulls her into his arms, presses nose to head, wraps arms around waist. She throws her arms around his abdomen and buries her head in his chest, lets out another sob that muffles slightly into his shirt but still sounds as guttural as the first one.

"It's gonna be okay, love," he whispers. His voice is shaking. His hands are, too. He tries to keep them steady as he rubs her back, kisses the top of her head and hugs her even closer. "I'm gonna be okay. You don't have to worry about me. I'll beat this, you'll see."

"You don't know that!" Georgia wails. "You don't know anything! What happens if you don't? What are we gonna do? Awsie," She hiccups, chokes on tears and starts to cough. He winces and presses firmer into her back, rubs in small, tight circles. "What am I gonna do without you?"

"Nothing." He closes his eyes and presses his cheek against the top of her head, lets the tears stream freely down his face. "Because I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm staying right here. I'm gonna beat this and be around to play Monopoly with you and help you with lyrics and tease you about Toby and teach you- teach you how to play guitar. I'm gonna be around. I'm gonna beat this. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

...

September 22nd, 2017 – 11:21 AM

"N-no."

Lily starts shaking her head, slow at first, and then faster and faster, eventually so fast that she's probably making herself dizzy. He sighs and takes a step forward, reaches for her shoulders. She tenses underneath him, but doesn't start to move away. Just as he's about to speak, he hears the tiniest, "No, Awsie."

Lily is peering up at him with wide, glassy eyes. Her lip is quivering. His grip on her shoulders has allowed her to wrap her hands around his forearms. She squeezes. Her little nails are digging into his skin, sharp enough to prick, but not nearly enough to hurt. "Please. No."

"Lil." He bends his knees and crouches so he's at her eye level. "I promise it'll be okay, love. It's not going to hurt. You'll be fine."

"Scary," she mumbles. Her voice is so small. She moves her gaze to her lap and pulls her knees up and into her chest. "Don't wanna."

"How about I come with you?" He offers. He scoots his hands down and around her back, slides onto the bed and pulls her to his chest in one motion. She curls in and buries her face in his shirt, lets out the tiniest whimper that slowly transitions into a sigh.

He swallows. He looks down at her and watches his hand come up to rub her back, keeps his eyes there and pulls his lip in with his teeth.

It's like his heart's been split, like each of the kids has crawled inside and claimed their own piece, perched on top of them and turned each one into their own arts and crafts project. They're both different and vital, like slashing through one or feeling it pull away from the hole turns everything upside down. If one of them falls, they all fall. They all fall and nothing's okay. These kids inadvertently have so much power, positions that weren't necessarily given to them but happened on their own; he got attached and they made their homes in his heart and he's not getting any of it back.

The universe seems to be on his side. Lily contemplates things for a few seconds longer before peeking up at him long enough to nod. She clenches her fingers around the fabric of his shirt and scoots even closer, close enough that he eventually pulls her onto his lap and moves to properly sit on the bed, shoots an apologetic look at the orderlies that have to transport a much heavier bed than they were originally planning to.

"It's an ultrasound," one of them says. "So you're good, kiddo. We're just bringing this in." They roll in the ultrasound machine, right up to the edge of the bed, and set to work connecting everything.

"Do you know what it's for?" Geoff wouldn't tell him. He's asked multiple nurses – maybe they didn't tell him 'cause he's a student – but they've been silent too. No one will tell him what's going on. They're hiding and he's trying, trying to find their needle in the haystack of 'I don't knows', trying to keep his breaths at ease when it feels like everything is starting to freeze.

"They didn't tell us anything, kid, sorry. We just gotta get all this hooked up before the doctor comes in, alright?"

He swallows and forces out a nod. His heart is racing. He doesn't know what's going on. His breath is coming shorter, shallower and shallower as he grips Lily's body tighter and buries his nose in her hair. He doesn't know what's wrong doesn't know what's wrong what'swrongwhat'swrongwhat'swrong-

It's just a routine ultrasound.

She's going to be fine.

It's just a routine ultrasound.

She's going to be fine.

The saliva feels heavy in his stomach.

She's going to be fine.

She has to be fine.

...

September 22nd, 4:45 PM

"Yeah, and just put your middle finger there...yep, there you go, that's G major."

Toby shifts his finger into place and strums the chord, smiles widely at the sound. Awsten looks down at the neck of his own instrument and follows up with another G chord, one Toby's sounds almost exactly like. He's getting it.

"Good!" He exclaims. "You're a fast learner."

"I have a good teacher." Toby looks back up at him and bites his lip. "But he's really stupid sometimes, too."

"W-what?" He swallows. His heart picks up almost immediately, like someone flipped a switch to turn from peace to panic. Toby is the oldest. He's not like Nia or Lily or Jacob; he can't be placated with a white lie wrapped in lullabies. He knows what's up and he sees through everything.

Toby moves his gaze to the ground. "Georgia told me," he says quietly. "Y'know, what you guys talked about a couple days ago. Don't be mad at her!" He holds his hands up in surrender. "I kinda forced it out. She was crying and kept crawling in my bed with me and I needed to know what was goin' on."

"So you..." he trails off. The words die in his throat, like the lump lodged in the back has grown to a full-on barrier keeping them back. The bugs are starting to awaken under his skin, press their stingers down further and gnaw and absorb. "You know..."

"...yeah."

"Fuck." He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fingers around the neck of the guitar, and feels the strings dig into his skin. It hurts. It stings. But it's a good pain, a good sting. He presses further.

"You're not on your own, y'know."

"Toby, I-" Everything stings. The world is on fire and it's starting to burn deep, char everything that's left of his chest and turn it all to ruble. He knows. He knows. The one thing he wasn't supposed to find out and he knows and Georgia knows and the kids Nia Lily, Jacob Matty fuckfuckfuck-

"You're always there for us," Toby continues. "You hold Jacob when he has nightmares and go with Lily to her scans and make sure Nia doesn't rip her cannulas out. You're the one that knows what Matty needs when he's having a bad day and makes sure Rosie's getting the love she needs. You make sure all of us, are getting the love we need." His voice catches in his throat. He pauses and shakes his head. "But it goes both ways, y'know? You don't have to be the hero all the time. It's okay to need us sometimes too."

He swallows. The ache behind his eyes is starting to burst. It's leaking everywhere, paint layers of pain coating the room in anguish. Everything feels too big. It's too much. This is too much. It's all too much.

"I just..." is all he can force out. Everything hurts. It's too much. It hurts. "I'm so scared. All the time. And I didn't- I didn't want you guys to be scared. I'm always the one tellin' you it'll be okay but this I just- I don't know. I don't know if it'll be okay and I didn't wanna scare you guys and I just- I didn't want anyone to worry about me." A sob tears from his throat, dry and scratchy. It feels like there's an open wound left in its wake, raw and blistering. It feels like razors cutting through everything.

Toby's eyes are glassy and his voice is thick when he speaks next, "you're our big brother, Aws. We love you. We don't know if it'll end up okay but we can be there for you while it happens. Like you are for us all the time. We wanna be there for you. Let us be there for you. You've done enough for us." His breath hitches.

"And hey, even heroes need saving sometimes, right?"

...

September 23rd, 2017 – 1:30 PM

"NO! PLEASE! AWSIE!"

He hears the cries from across the hospital. They're distinct, punctuated by guttural sobs and loud, raspy coughs. He pulls the other earbud out of his ear and flips his journal shut, slides off the bed and wobbles onto his feet in one motion.

His heart is racing.

He can feel it in his ears as he takes off, runs out of his room and into the hallway, past the nurses' desk, Awsten, don't run! You're gonna hurt yourself or someone- and straight to the pediatric ward. He bursts through the double doors at full speed, squeezes his eyes shut and swallows against the nausea already rising.

His stomach is in his throat. It's the kind of feeling you get running the mile in PE, that overwhelming stickiness and heaviness in your chest, like it's nausea rather than blood being pumped into your veins, knowing that you have to keep going, because if you stop you're going to puke. It's a blanket that drapes over him stickily, coats everything in a mush and blurs it all together.

Lily.

Lily's crying.

He stumbles over to her bed – wobbles dangerously and almost trips and collapses on himself multiple times – and straightens against the rails. A weight hits his chest. A pair of arms winds around his neck.

"Lil," he chokes out. His breath is coming in pants. The room is tilting and shifting. He reaches his arms up to wrap around her, pulls her into his chest and turns to the man standing at the foot of her bed. There's a nurse on the other side, holding a needle attached to a tube, with two more tubes lined up in the tray in front of her. "What the hell is going on?"

"Awsten-"

"Was this planned?" He continues. He knows Lily's doctor. The man is the main guy in charge of all the kids; he's a fifth year resident who oversees all of their care after the specialists give instructions. He's been doing this for a while now, spent most of his residency in this ward – Awsten'd like to think they know each other pretty well.

He would've said something, if Lily had a planned blood test. The entire ward knows how terrified she is of needles. It's a process; they tell him the day before and he goes to her that night, slips into bed next to her and strokes her hair as he tells her what's going to happen. He stays with her – the nurses are all used to this by now; they know that if it doesn't happen, then, well, this, will happen – and coaxes her into things slowly, and it works. It works every time.

"Awsie they're tryna stick me I don't want it please don't let them it'll hurt I don't want it please-" The words come out as more of a gasp. She heaves at the end, coughs so harshly that she's dry gagging against his shoulder.

"Whoa, hey, it's okay," he murmurs. He rests his chin on top of her head and starts to rub her back, presses a kiss against her hair. "Awsie's here, love, I'm here. I'm not gonna let them do anything to you that you're not ready for, alright?"

"Awsten, can I talk to you in the hall?"

"I'll be right back, okay?" He starts the flood of sweet nothings against Lily's body as soon as her doctor finishes speaking. She's shaking her head and saying no over and over, squeezing her eyes shut and crying loudly. "I promise, they're not going to do anything-" He pauses to look pointedly up at the nurse, who nods and sets the syringe down. "Until I get back. No one's going to touch you love, I promise. I'm gonna go talk to the doctor. I'll be right back."

"What the hell are you doing?" The words come out as a growl. His chest aches. He can still hear Lily crying in the other room. Every sound feels like another slice at the fragments of his chest cavity, another hole poked into Lily's piece of his heart. The world was just set on the fire, but he doesn't know where the source is. He doesn't know where it's coming from and he doesn't know how to stop it. "I haven't seen her that upset in years. She's fuckin' terrified."

"Awsten."

He stops.

The anger, the white-hot walls building themselves up in his chest, stop. Everything feels like it's falling, like he's plummeting back to Earth with that single word. "H-her- the ultrasound," he whispers. "What did it say?"

"There's something wrong with her kidneys. We need to do some more tests to confirm – that's what we're taking her blood for – but it's very possible she might be in kidney failure, kiddo."

"I'll do it." He doesn't register the words until he's saying them. His heart is racing. The world is spinning away, a tiny dot, a blip on his radar. He's somewhere else, in a different existence, and everything is screeching to a halt. "I'm a match."

"We haven't confirmed she needs a kidney yet," the man says. "And kid, I hate to break it to you, but...if she does, you can't donate. You're getting chemo, remember? Your immune system's already compromised beyond belief. No one in their right mind would let you do a transplant right now."

He stops.

...

September 25th, 2017 – 8:28 PM

"How're you holdin' up?"

He swallows at the voice, doesn't move to lift his head or turn toward the door. "What're you doin' here?"

"I heard." There's rustling. He hears a jacket unzip, and then hears it fall to the ground. "About everything. I talked to Geoff. Aws, I'm so-"

"Save it." He bites the words, but it feels like the pocket of tears is pressing harder against his skull. His throat is closed. Speaking feels like razor blades cutting up his vocal chords, like there's a wheel of knives shredding them to pieces. The ache lodged between skin and skull stays, pounds and presses in until keeping his eyes open starts to hurt. "I don't wanna do this right now."

"You can't keep it locked up. You suck at that. We both know it."

"I can't do this." He grounds the last two words out and lifts his head to glare at Jawn. "Don't you get it? I can't talk about it. I can't think about it. I can't do it."

"Not talking about it isn't gonna make it hurt any less," Jawn says. "But at least lemme give you a hug first. You scared me, you fuckin' asshole."

"It wasn't a damn picnic for me either, thanks," he mutters. Jawn moves toward him and he lets it happen, feels the arms around him and leans up and into the hold. He buries his face in Jawn's chest and exhales, feels the lump in his throat start to throb and tries to bite back the sob.

"It's gonna be okay." Jawn rubs his back and he leans into it. The ache feels too big. Too much. It's forcing itself against his skull in a pocket of pain that feels too heavy. It all feels too heavy.

He wants to sleep. He doesn't want to do this anymore.

He wants to sleep.

He doesn't want to be here anymore.

...

"You're not gonna talk to Geoff about this. So it's either me, or I'm going to your doctor and telling him you need a damn therapist."

"You wouldn't."

"I fucking would," he shoots back. The words feel hot, leaving his chest. His hands are shaking. Everything is tooredtoohottoored- "I can't just sit here and watch you destroy yourself."

Awsten laughs. It's a different kinda of laugh. It sounds choked. His voice is slightly raspy. It sounds like poison, like the sound has injected it into the air and it's starting to diffuse across the whole room. "Destroy myself? You think I'm doing this?"

"Awsten..." The marks beneath his eyes have deepened. They're a darker shade of purple, deep enough to reach the tops of his cheeks. He looks paler. Jawn knows he's already had a chemo infusion – they fuck with him really bad, remember? He doesn't look very good. But it's helping. It's supposed to help – but he didn't think it would happen this fast.

He's pale. He looks sick. It's like the cancer patients you see in the movies, sunken in eyes and sallow skin, pale and weak and sickly.

"How the fuck am I supposed ta get better when my life won't?"

A silence falls over the room. It's sticky. It feels like a blanket that has stingers attached to it, pressing into his skin and burning. He doesn't know what to say. There's nothing left to say.

He's never known what to say. He remembers being ten years old, watching Geoff hold a cloth to Awsten's forehead while trying to figure out what words yelled into his mom's answering machine would make her pick up. He remembers getting into bed with Awsten and curling around him, please, J, I'm so cold please hold me it hurts so bad, trying to keep the liquid out of his eyes so Awsten could spill freely. But most of all, he remembers the late nights, staying up till 3am even though exhaustion tugged at his bones because Awsten couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep and I'm so tired, Jawn. I'm so fucking tired of pretending it'll be okay because bad things keep happening and I don't want to do this anymore.

He remembers going home, laying awake for hours into the night and staring at his ceiling, please, anyone, if you're up there, please just...turn his luck around. Give him some good. He doesn't need anymore bad things to happen. Make his life good, please, give me all the bad stuff if you want, but he's been through enough.

I don't know if he'll survive another bad thing.

(I think he'll actually do it.)

Awsten has depression.

He was diagnosed when he was 14; right after they got the news that his cancer had gotten worse. Right after weeks of lying in bed that progressed to months of wishing he was dead. It was like life had sucked the color out of him. He was a wrung-out rag of empty promises and false hope.

He tried to kill himself when he was fifteen, stole one of the scalpels from a tray in the ER and went to town – nothing is getting better and it's too hard. I'm sorry. He ended up in therapy for six months, on a slew of medication to combat the cocktail of emotion wreaking havoc on his brain.

Awsten has depression and it's gotten a lot better in the past few years, calmed the tides as the trials in his life started to diminish. Things have been getting better. His promises were holding true – I told you it'd happen, didn't I? I don't break promises; he was finally starting to look like less of a dick as the universe clicked into place for the first time.

"Did they tell you anything else?"

"She needs a kidney." Awsten's voice is flat. "I can't donate. I'm a match. But I can't donate."

"How do you-"

"I know her damn blood type." It's a snap now. He bites the words. There's a hint of rasp; a hint of a sob that's poking its way through the surface, about to escape. "Geoff can't keep a fucking secret to save his life."

"She'll be okay," he says. His heart is racing. Not another bad thing he doesn't need this he can't do this right now why the fuck are you doing this why are you doing this to him what the hell did he do to deserve it- "They'll put her on a list, or something, right?"

"So she can die waiting?" Awsten is quiet for a few moments. He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head and bites his lip. "I just- I thought this was over. I thought I was done with it. I thought it was- I thought I was finally getting better..."

"Awsten..." He sighs out the word, feels the tug and burn in his chest. It's like that single utterance set everything on fire and now it's smoldering.

"Some days I still wish I was dead," Awsten mutters. "And it's not fair that obligation is the only thing holding me back from that."

"You're not doing that again." He stands, takes the couple steps over to Awsten's bedside and reaches for one of his hands. "Okay? I need you to promise me. You are not trying again."

"I don't want Geoff to have to explain it to them," Awsten mumbles. "They...I can't do that to them."

"You can't do that to yourself, either," he says. "You deserve to want that. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to live." His chest feels like it's being torn open. Slashed apart. The words are taking a knife through the structure he's been trying to rebuild for months. Everything is on fire and everything is broken and it's all so bad why is it so bad why does his life have to suck this much why do bad things keep happening to him-

"Sometimes it doesn't feel worth it anymore." Awsten's voice sounds different. He doesn't sound sad or angry or frustrated. The words are out there but they're different.

It's the voice of someone who's been sad too many times.

"I'll let you get some sleep, okay?" The words tumble out in a rush. His hands are shaking. His lip is quivering. The world looks blurry. Everything is starting to fog over. He reaches out and rubs his fingers down the side of Awsten's face, cups his cheek and leans down to kiss his forehead. "And I promise I'll come back tomorrow, 'cause we're not done talking about this. But it's late. You need your rest. You'll feel better in the morning, I promise."

"I'll still be dying."

...

September 25th, 2017 – 10:06 PM

"Sunshine? Hey love, you awake?"

Check on him. He's not in a good place. I don't think he should be alone right now. I...you gotta get him talking, Geoff. He's locking too much up and we- Jawn's voice caught there. The sob tore its way out without warning. I'm scared he might try again.

His shift just ended. It's not uncommon for him to stay, change out of his scrubs and make his way back to Awsten's room to check on him one last time. He spends a lot of time in this hospital outside what he's meant to; you're not okay and I'm not leaving you like this. If they let me stay, I'm here.

Awsten's parents don't. They fund his private room and make sure he has the best of the best, write a check every time someone calls their house in place of actually coming to the hospital to spend time with their son. Geoff knows the nights, curling around Awsten and trying to get his mom on the phone, why don't they care about me? What did I do wrong? He knows his heart breaking, feeling the bomb detonate and the pieces fly everywhere, a reminder of the life he couldn't fix. He couldn't fix it he couldn't do it he couldn't-

"Hey." He forces his voice to stay steady and drops to his knees to get on Awsten's eye level, reaches forward to brush his hands through Awsten's hair. "How're you feeling?"

"Didn't Jawn tell you?" He bites his lip at Awsten's voice. It's not loud or soft or happy or sad or scared or confident or anything. It's one level, one tone, one emotion. It's nothing.

"He's just worried, angel," he sighs. "I am too. We all are. You've had better days."

"Don't."

"Aws-"

"You don't have to be here," Awsten mutters. "You can go. I don't need another person to disappoint."

It feels like a bullet. It probably would've hut less, had Awsten pulled out a gun and shot him straight in the heart. It's a pain that encompasses, stretches out over everything and throws a blanket over it all. It's entrenching. Capturing. It feels white-hot at first, and then dies to a low buzz that's prominent enough to hurt, all the time.

"Listen to me." He stops himself, has to rein everything back in to keep from word vomiting everywhere. Breathe. It's gonna be okay. Breathe. "I'm your boyfriend, not your dad. I don't have some bullshit expectations you're letting down. I love you. I just want you to be happy, okay? I want you to feel better and be happy because you deserve it. I hate seeing you like this, sunshine."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"What, sunshine?" He swallows. He isn't sure how they got here. He doesn't know how they ended on this. Sunshine is- Awsten is sunshine. When he looks up at the blinding light, feels it rouse him every morning and blinks up at the rays through his window, when he feels the warmth against his back and the soft breeze against his chest...Awsten is sunshine.

"M'the furthest fuckin' thing from sunshine." Awsten bites his lip. He's staring at a spot on the wall, not really even looking at it. It's almost like he's staring right through it, like the x-rays have moved to his eyes.

"My love," he murmurs. He grabs one of Awsten's hands and brings it up to his lips. "You light up every room you walk into. You smile and laugh and tell stories, you expose your heart to the world even after it's been broken. You read to Jacob when he has nightmares and go with Nia to her scans and hold Lil all night if it makes her feel better about blood tests. You take Matty on adventures so he doesn't get bored – and so the other nurses and I don't rip our hair out – and you're so good with Rosie. She loves you. She attaches herself to you for a reason, y'know? You're teaching Toby guitar. And Georgia...what you've done with her and songwriting and helping her to become more confident in talking about her feelings...the other nurses and I talk about it all the time." He pauses. The lump in his throat is throbbing. "She may not be here if you hadn't done that. And after I've had a hard day-" He leans down and kisses Awsten's forehead. "You are where I want to go. You make them easier. You hold me and let me vent and make me feel like my problems are real, even when you're dealing with so much worse." He stares at Awsten through glassy eyes, takes his other hand and smiles. "You are the embodiment of sunshine."

He tilts his head forward and pecks Awsten's lips. Awsten wraps an arm around his neck as he kisses back. They stay there. His knees are bent in a very uncomfortable position and everything is burning, but they stay there. It's silent for a long time.

"I'm so scared she's gonna die."

The words hang in the air for a moment. He opens his mouth, knows he has to say something even though he doesn't know what to say; he needs to hear something, you idiot. Say something. Awsten beats him to it, "and if she goes, I go."

"Whoa, no," He breathes. He braces one hand against the mattress and pushes up, hooks his leg around Awsten and slides in behind him to straddle his body. He winds his arms around Awsten's waist and pulls him in, presses his lips against the top of his head and leaves them there. "We are so far from that, okay? I talked to Briars today. She is so far from that. And you are never doing that again. No matter what."

"I can't do it," Awsten says faintly. "I don't know how to live in a world she isn't."

"For her," he replies. He looks down at the mattress and reaches for Awsten's hand, laces their fingers together and squeezes. "You live, for her. Live the life she wouldn't be able to. You smile and you laugh and you love and you live. You beat this stupid fuck up of cells and get outta here and we go find a nice apartment in the city where you can look out over the buildings and we can go to art galleries on the weekends and walk around downtown and have people over for brunch." He moves his lips to the shell of Awsten's ear and starts to stroke his hair as he continues, "and you can find an amazing producer to sign you so you can sing your songs everywhere. Live for that, my love. If, god forbid, anything happened to her, she would want this. For you to live and love and laugh and let things get better. She'll be watching and she'll be so proud."

...

September 27th, 2017 – 3:31 PM

"Nurse W?"

He feels a tug at the hem of his scrub shirt and pauses to look down. "Yeah, love? What's up?"

"Why'd Awsie leave again?" The seven year old's voice is slightly higher than usual, lacking the hint of whine she usually has in favor of what sounds like genuine curiosity.

He sighs. Awsten hasn't gotten out of bed since that night. The kids haven't seen him in a couple days. Jawn came back, sat with him for a few hours and tried to coax some words out, he didn't say like, anything, dude. One word or a fuckin' head nod. I'm really worried about him.

He's okay most days. He deals with things as they come, processes the pain as it permeates, lets it seep in steadily rather than absorbing everything all at once. It's a tidal wave of false hope and empty promises that encompass him on the worst days. Geoff knows those.

He knows check-ups turned to suicide watches, curling around Awsten while still in his scrubs – don't you have work to do? scans to run? Patients that don't wanna off themselves to check on?

You're all I care about right now, love. I can't function if I don't know you're okay.

You've been functioning fine until now.

"Is Awsie okay?" He blinks rapidly to refocus his vision, and swallows against the newly formed lump in his throat as he takes a breath. The ache is back. Everything feels thicker in a way that makes the room start to blur. It's going fuzzy at its edges. He swallows.

"Yeah, sweetheart." He holds out a hand for her to put hers in. "Do you remember what we talked about a while ago?"

"Sometimes he has sad days," Nia says quietly. She's staring down his lap. "Where he doesn't want to get of bed."

"Right," he replies. The word feels thick. It's like the room has been filled with molasses, like they're swimming and wading and trying to break through the sticky mess that just keeps on coming. It feels too thick. Too heavy. Too much. "He'll feel better soon love, I promise."

"I wanna go."

"Hm?"

"I wanna go see Awsie," Nia repeats. "I wanna make him happy."

"Nia, love..." He bites his lip. It's a good idea. It bottles itself up and shoves into his heart, presses into one of the holes Awsten's created and starts to close it. It's warm. It might work.

Or, Awsten might say something so morbidly dark and give her permanent anxiety of whether each new day might be the day he actually does it.

"I wanna go," Nia insists, louder this time. "He needs me."

"Are you-"

"Please, Nurse W." Nia pokes out her bottom lip and widens her eyes.

"I wanna go."

...

He doesn't have the best track record with Septembers.

Maybe it's because that's when everyone from school goes back or the world starts to turn chilly and windy, maybe it's the reminder that you're never gonna be normal. This? This is your life. You're never gonna have something different. You'll never be like them. You'll never be like them.

You'll never be like them.

Maybe it's the reality that these four white walls are all he'll ever be.

He can't cry anymore. It feels like he's used up everything in his tear ducts, like they're scraping against the insides of themselves and scrambling for more water to let out. It hurts. All of it hurts. It's a pain that stays, sets the tendrils making up his chest ablaze; burns through the short phrase of this will pass. It's not forever. You'll get better, and sparks all over again.

September isn't good to him. It never has been.

This year hasn't been good to him. There was a spike and now it's falling all over again and Lily could die and he could die and everything's falling apart it's all gone to shit so quickly he was so happy what the fuck happened how the fuck did this become his life he was so happy he was going back to school he was supposed to be a normal one with everyone else how did this happen how did this happen how-

How the fuck did this happen-

He doesn't think because he can't breathe. He doesn't let himself. He ruminates and cultivates more anxiety, more dampness down his back and slickness on his hands and churning in his stomach, more hotcoldhotcan'tmovecan'tspeakcan'tbreathe, more tooheavytoohardtoomuch, until everything comes out all at once and he's left an empty shell of the promises he once was.

September isn't good to him.

"Awsie?"

He freezes.

Everything seems to stop. It's like someone hit pause on the world and play right after. It jars. Whatever he has in his stomach – bile and stomach acid grossgrossgross – is about to eject upward. He can feel it. It's too much. It's all too much.

This can't be happening.

Please no not her please why is this happening please I can't do this I can't deal with this pleasepleaseplease-

He feels the arm thrown across his side and the weight against his back. The arm span is tiny, but a tiny limb still snakes between his body and the mattress, wraps around him and squeezes tight. "I'm sorry you're sad."

"Nia," he chokes out. He didn't realize he was crying until the sob slipped, until that one word broke the barrier and sent the floodgates rushing. "Wha- I- you-"

"I wanna make you happy," Nia says softly. "But Nurse W said sometimes that doesn't happen. So I wanna be here. I hate being sad alone. I think everyone does. I don't want you to be sad alone."

He forces himself to swallow, twists around and flops onto his other side so he can meet her eyes. She's smiling at him, hair pinned back, eyes shiny. He knows his are red. Everything's red. Redwhitehotredwhitehotredwhite-

"Your hair is really pretty," Nia continues. "It looks like the smurfs! When you're better we'll watch the movies, okay? I have my own smurf, I'm so lucky..." She reaches up and starts to tangle her fingers through his- no.

Please no not now please nononononono-

"I thought- I thought something was wrong." He can hear the tears in her voice. She's holding a blue strand in her hands. They're shaking. Everything is shaking. Nothing feels real. He wants to go away why is this happening fuckfuckfuck- "B-but," she whispers. "It's gonna be okay, y'know? You're gonna fight. Beat this again. I know you will. 'Cause heroes always win, right? You're gonna win."

"Yeah," he chokes out. Reaching forward, he pulls her into his chest and squeezes, buries his nose in her hair and closes his eyes. "I'm gonna win. I'm gonna beat this, I promise. I'm gonna be here with you and we'll watch all the Smurf movies and eat all the blue ice cream and it'll be so good, okay? It'll be so good."

He sobs into her hair and clutches her even tighter against him. This is about the time she'd be whining, giggling, Awsie, you're holding me too tight!

She doesn't.

She stays.

He stays.

It'll be so good.

...

October 15th, 2017 – 10:56 AM

"Shhh, Lil. It's gonna be okay, love. Just keep breathing for me, that's it, you're doing so good."

"H-hurts, Awsie." The words come out in a gasp. She hiccups against his chest and chokes out another sob, one that seems to bubble up her throat and spurt out messily. "Hurts s-so bad..."

He sighs, squeezes her tighter and presses his hand firmer into her back. "I know, sweetheart. I know. It'll get better soon, I promise."

Kidney failure isn't the prettiest. She's at the top of the donor list, but her condition is deteriorating in front of their very eyes. She's been put on dialysis and a bunch of new medications to combat the symptoms and make her more comfortable, but the only thing that will actually help her pain is a new kidney. She needs one. She needs a transplant in the next couple weeks or she won't survive.

The past (almost) three weeks have been the worst of his life. He knows that for a fact, knows that nights spent staring at the ceiling, red eyes and aches in his chest, feeling like everything had been torn through and smashed with a wrecking ball, like the precious tendrils making up his ribcage had been broken down too many times and the strength to rebuild was too much.

This feels worse than that, like someone's gone in and torn through his chest like it was made of paper, torn the pieces into fragments that are scattering everywhere and falling, crashing, down to the bottom of his chest cavity. Every piece is a new sting, a new dig that sparks and burns and turns the whole world white-hot while he tries to catch his breath.

He's drowning, all of the time. It's too hard and too heavy and too much he's choking on mouthfuls of water every time he tries to swim he has no strength left to pull from within it's all such a mess of chemo and dialysis and tears is Lily okay she has to be okay what's going on with her no fuck I have to be there you don't understand she's scared she needs me-

You're having chemotherapy she needs me these are chemicals attacking your cells she needs me you need to take care of yourself she needs me-

He's had one more chemo infusion in the time, one that wasn't any better than the first. He puked and cried and pulled Geoff off the nurses' schedule for another three days, hid face in chest and forced himself not to come out until he could be an actual human being and not a saggy lump of flesh that couldn't stop complaining.

His feelings were like a painting and the canvas was already full.

And now everything is grey and the world is dull.

He doesn't know what to do anymore. He doesn't know where to go from here. It's just make it to tomorrow get through today live to see tomorrow it's not a life. It's nothing. It's an existence without a purpose. He's a presence with a ghost of a personality. Reality is heartbreaking when fantasy rips off the cloak.

"Awsie..."

He doesn't know what to do anymore.

He doesn't know how to help. He can't fix this. He'd rather die than sit here and watch her cry for another second. It's too heavy. It's a weight that slams down on his shoulders, like her prognosis has placed another thousand tons on his back and he's flailing under the unexpected attack. He doesn't know what to do he can't do anything he doesn't know what to do he can't do anything he doesn't know what to do he can't do anything-

He can't do anything-

"Whoa, Lil, don't touch that." He blinks back into focus just in time to catch Lily reaching for her cannula. He takes both her hands in his and brings his other hand around to cover them. "That's gotta stay in, alright love? I know it's annoying, but you need it."

"Hurts," she fusses. She's teary and frustrated; it's been a long day and it's about to be an even longer night. It's hard to sleep when you're in pain all the time and he knows it won't be letting up any soon. None of it will be letting up any soon. He has cancer and one of her kidneys is failing and there's nothing either of them can do about it.

These are their lives.

This is his life.

He'll live and die here, thrive and cry in the place that was never supposed to be home but now is. His cancer's back and one of her kidneys is failing and nothing ever goes right for him why the fuck does everyone get to tell me to have hope when everything is bad all the time why don't they realize that having hope makes it worse when things go bad why doesn't anyone get it why are they all so stupid-

It's too much. It's too much for him to handle, too much for any human being to handle. There's too much pain and too much heartbreak and too much loss it was getting better it was supposed to get better what the fuck happened how did he end up back here how did this become his life again-

He can't stay and he can't leave. They need him but he doesn't need the world anymore. It's hurt him too many times. He's given second, third, fourth, fifth chances and been disappointed by every single one of the answers.

He's not living but he can't die and the limbo is frying. He's rotting here. He's rotting inside. It's too much. It's all too much.

"Aws?"

He blinks a few times and looks up, then closes his eyes and shakes his head, tightens his arms around Lily and lets his head tilt back a bit.

It's not just Geoff.

Lily's doctor is standing behind him.

He can't do this again.

No more bad news.

Not one more thing.

He can't.

"Don't," he forces out. "Please, whatever it is, I don't wanna hear it. I can't take 'nymore of this, please."

"Aws-"

"Everything hurts," he says. "All the time. Everything is so bad and it's all so much and I can't do anything I can never do anything and I'm so fucking sick of feeling useless so please-" He pauses, clenches his teeth to keep the sob back in. "Nothing else. I can't do it."

"Awsten-"

"I can't," he insists. "Please."

"Sunshine, will you just shut up and listen?"

"Why don't you get it?" He snaps. "I don't wanna hear about how she needs more dialysis or that you moved my chemo up or someone else has something wrong with them. I don't wanna hear more about this damn hospital because I know I'm gonna be stuck here until the end of time. I don't wanna-"

Geoff takes a step forward. He's smiling. Briars is smiling. They're both smiling why are they smiling what the fuck- "Our sister hospital called ten minutes ago. They had an MVC. Brain dead on arrival. And-"

"You..."

"We have a donor."

...

Reality will break your heart.

Survival will not be the hardest part.

#waterparks #waterparks fanfiction #awsten knight #geoff wigington #gawsten #gawsten fanfiction #im #i can't believe it's over #im crying so hard #please be nice about this this has been my entire life for the past two months #neha writes #cancer fic

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