Timmy knew something wasn't right the moment he woke up. The room wasn't alive with activity the way it normally was. Cosmo wasn't singing, Wanda wasn't yelling- it even seemed like Poof had gone silent. When he finally sat up and looked over at his nightstand, they were there, wide awake save for Poof who was still sleeping. They smiled at him, but it was a strange smile. It lacked the warmth their greetings usually carried and gave him a feeling he could only describe as foreboding, and it went on with him even when he went downstairs for breakfast.
Both his mother and father were already at the table, everything spread out and waiting for him. Neither one of them had any food in front of them. Not even so much as a soiled napkin or dirtied dish served as proof that they'd eaten. He approached the table where his father sat sipping at a cup of cool, steamless coffee while his mother remained poised in place exchanging looks with her hands and the floor.
"Morning, Timmy." His father said first.
He pulled his chair out wearily, noticing the absence of the paper that usually stood between them when they spoke at breakfast.
"Good morning, Dad. Morning, Mom?" He said, watching her closely.
She smiled dryly, straightening up in her chair.
"Good morning, son." She swallowed. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, I uh, I guess so." He answered.
Without any other hints, Timmy reached forward awkwardly to pull his plate closer. Eggs and bacon, now he knew something was up. His mother hadn't been a fan of making bacon since he was in middle school and she'd taken a liking to waking up a full hour later to get him up and to the bus.
"Is something wrong?" He asked carefully.
Mr. and Mrs. Turner looked at each other before turning back to Timmy. His mother leaned in so that she was close enough to touch his arm while his father gave him a slow nod.
Whatever this was, he couldn't imagine it being too easy to have to say if this was the way they set up. He grew panicked inside, going through a mental list of things that could have them so worked up.
"It's…" His father's jaw tightened a way he'd never seen before. "It's… a friend of yours, son."
Timmy's heart skipped a beat.
"Which… which one?"
His brows furrowed as he thought about it. '…Sanjay? Elmer? Chester?'
"A.J." His mother said softly, patting his arm again.
He looked at them both, not following. 'A.J.? What could possibly be wrong with A.J.?'
"Did he do something wrong?"
His father smiled, sympathetically. "No, of course not."
"Then what's-"
"He's, er, sick, Timmy."
"Sick?"
"Yes, A.J.'s parents called this morning." His mom piped again.
Her face looked tired, as if this morning meant long before sunrise.
"He came back from the hospital last night." She began. "He'd been going for a few weeks now… running tests."
Timmy was confused again. "Tests?"
"Yes. You see, A.J. hadn't been feeling too well and no one seemed to be too sure why."
"Do they…" He gulped, looking elsewhere. "Do they know why now?"
His heart sank when they looked at each other again.
"Please, tell me."
"Son…" His father said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
It was the most hollow feeling Timmy ever experienced. Looking at his father, seeing the pain in his eyes. He didn't doubt for a moment that it must have burdened him to know it as much as it hurt to say it. A.J. had been in their home for years, he and Chester weren't just Timmy's friends, they were family.
"A.J. has Chronic lymphocytic leukemia." He said, taking a deep sigh. "The doctors have doubled and checked and are going over the results again but, well his parents think the diagnosis is right."
Timmy all but fainted. He remained in his chair, staring at his father, waiting for something else to be said. Something about treatment or an unlikely but still very possible cure. Something, anything but what he'd just heard. And when it was clear that he'd heard it all, he bowed his head and let himself go.
Mrs. Turner wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her so that she could hold him properly.
"Oh, Timmy." She cooed, patting his back. Her own tears mixed with his as she urged him to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Timmy. I'm so sorry."
Wanda was speaking with Cosmo when he reentered the room. As she expected, Timmy had approached her with the obvious request.
She watched at him as he uttered a quiet, "I wish he was cured."
The two faced each other intently for a moment, scanning the other for any sign of faltering. When it was apparent that neither of them would give in, Wanda neared him, frown deepening.
"You know the rules, Timmy."
"Screw the rules." He croaked, eyes still moist. "There's got to be a way."
He'd never wanted a wish so badly, never needed something so urgently that he'd challenged her directly.
"We have to try."
Wanda sighed, the stress of the news wearing even on her mind. A.J. wasn't her godchild, but he was more than another face she saw among the crowd. He meant something to Timmy, and she had to admit that over the years he'd come to mean something to her as well.
"We do." She agreed. "We'll see what Jorgen says."
Timmy sees A.J. in the next chapter, coming soon so keep checking! Thanks for reading!
*I've read a much about the various forms of Leukemia for this story, and I must say that my heart goes out to anyone going through treatment or coping with the complications it brights. And also to those who are standing by loved ones who suffer from it. They need you and your support, and don't ever think for a second that you aren't helping them. What they need goes far beyond the call of just medication, they need you to be there for them and I promise you they appreciate your care.