Notes: Set 15 years down the road. The Glee kids are about 30 years old. Also, in this fic, Tina's stutter was real. Cuz seriously, who fakes a stutter?
PLEASE R&R!
Tina was numb. Mr. Schue had just told the news. She closed her office door after he left and just leaned against it, sliding down to the floor slowly. She sat like that for about five minutes before pulling out her cell phone and dialing.
"Dammit." Artie wiped a drop of mustard off the case he was reviewing. His desk phone beeped. "Yes, Lisa?" He was irritated. He had asked not to be disturbed while he took lunch.
"Sorry, Mr. Abrams, but there's a Tina Cohen-Chang on the line for you. She insists it's an emergency."
Artie frowned. Tina was the only friend from highschool he kept regular contact with. Even so, they weren't as close as they'd been back then, but there was a bond that couldn't be broken with his Glee teammates. They had weathered so much together before they even realized what real life was going to be like.
"I'll take it." Lisa hung up and Artie picked up the phone. "Abrams here."
"Artie? It's T-T-T-Tina."
"Tina? Hey girl!"
Mercedes set her keys on the kitchen counter. She'd just walked in the door, getting home from her shift at the hospital. She hadn't even gotten a chance to change out of her scrubs. "Hey, Kurt! It's Tina!"
Kurt kept his breath steady, holding his Tree Pose by the balcony windows.
"Mercedes, you know I can't be disturbed during my yoga time. It totally messes up my flow."
Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Nevermind him, Tina. He's being a diva." She ignored the huff of indignation that escaped her roommate's lips. "What's up?"
"Merc-c-cedes," Tina began.
Mercedes furrowed her brow. Tina had gotten rid of her stutter years ago, back in high school.
"I've g-g-got bad n-news."
"What does that mean?" Brittany hid behind the water cooler, hoping her co-workers wouldn't notice her taking a personal call.
Tina sighed on the other end of the line. "It means he's sick, Brittany." The blonde's complete lack of understanding on the situation had forced Tina to focus, so she was in control of her stutter again.
"How sick?" the former Cheerio asked.
Tina swallowed a lump in her throat. "Real sick," she choked out. Her throat was dry. "Listen, Britt. I'm kind of tired now. Do you think you could contact some of the others?"
"I only use the contact paper when our laminator is on the fritz, I swear," Brittany countered defensively.
"No, Britt just… call them."
"Oh, I can do that."
"Thanks."
Santana kicked off her pumps and sat down on the couch in the green room. She always needed a littler breather before going on the air, especially after covering that new school opening today. Those little kids had given her a migraine.
Just as she took a sip of her coffee, the sounds of "Jenny from the Block" rang from her phone. She sighed then smiled when she saw it was Brittany.
"Hey, Brittany. What's up?"
Brittany was sniffling on the other end. "It's bad, Santana."
Santana was immediately concerned. A lot of things had changed since high school, but Brittany's naïveté had not been one of them. "What's bad?"
"It's Mr. Schue. He's lukewarm."
The Latina's concern turned to confusion. "Lukewarm? What are you talking about?"
"The cancer. He's got the lukewarm cancer."
"You're not making sense Brittany. There's no such thing as lukewarm cancer."
"Well, that's what Tina said."
"Lukewarm, lukewarm…" Santana pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to work out what Brittany actually meant. "Luke… Do you mean leukemia, Britt?"
There was a pregnant pause before the blonde admitted, "She might have said that."
Santana fought the sick feeling in her stomach. "Well, shit."