"I spent most of the next days looking at the X-rays, talking 'bout the options, talking 'bout sweet times." ~Tim McGraw
Nick's P.O.V.
"I can't believe this," I whispered as I stared at the X-rays.
"I am terribly sorry," the doctor said, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I felt like my entire world was falling out from under me. I felt like this was a all some terrible dream that I was about to wake up from. Yet how could the evidence in a dream look so real, so glaringly obvious? I couldn't deny it. It was real and solid, right in front of me. In general, I wasn't afraid of dying. I had known when I began working to find the solution to the anomalies that I was risking my life. I could be eaten, I could get trapped on the wrong end of an anomaly, all sorts of things. Though while I had long since accepted those risks, I had never expected to die from something like this.
Cancer. The word sounded foreign in my mind, for I had never even considered it, never really thought twice about it. Of all the things I had been thinking of lately, cancer hadn't even occurred to me. I had thought of Helen, Claudia, my team, even of wanting to wring Lester's neck one good time, but I had not thought of this. Cancer, I mentally repeated to myself, still unable to fully wrap my mind around the fact that the term now applied to me. I was sick, terribly and fatally sick. Suck it up and figure out the options, I told myself, unburying myself from my thoughts.
"What kind of cancer are we talking about?" I asked the doctor. He had told me that I had it, but we had not discussed which kind yet.
"You have an Ependymoma tumor. It appears to be spinal. These tumors typically occur at a very young age, somewhere around five, and then reappear at approximately thirty-five. From reading your file, I see that this is the first time the tumor has shown up, which is quite strange, but not impossible. It has caused Syringomyelia, which-"
"Hold on. I appreciate the details, doctor, but could you just tell me what my options are and what kind of time I'm looking at?" I cut him off, unable to listen to the stream of confusing information any longer.
"You can talk to a neurologist about surgery, if you'd like. Normally, this isn't a fatal cancer, but…"
"But what?" I said, lifting my eyebrows.
"It has progressed much faster than usual. Surgery improves your odds, but I am very sorry to say that as long as it has gone untreated, it is very possible that it has become fatal," he said, staring down at the copy of the MRI scan on his clipboard.
"I knew my back had been hurting and I'd been sweating more than usual, but I didn't pay it any mind," I said, somewhat to myself. And now because you didn't see a doctor sooner, you're dying, I thought cynically. I had finally came in after the past few weeks of sweating, aching, and trembling. I had just never expected the doctor to tell me what those symptoms added up to.
"With surgery, you have a good chance of bouncing back, but I can't make any guarantees," he said, shaking his head sympathetically.
"Thank you doctor," I said, getting up and leaving his office.
That night, as I lay awake in my bed, I thought over the day's events for the millionth time. I thought of the people I loved and how important they were to me. Stephen, my best friend. He was so headstrong, and he was a flirt, but he had a good heart. He was a damn good man. I then thought of Connor Temple. He was so young, and while he was naïve in some ways, he was the smartest person I had ever met in my life. I had started out not liking him at all, but after standing with him after his friend Tom had died, I had found myself unable to begrudge his sense of innocence. He had looked so sad, so broken when I'd embraced him like I would a son.
Helen. The name came into my thoughts unbidden. I didn't want to think of her, didn't want her in my mind, but there she was. I couldn't stop myself from thinking of her betrayal, of the fact she'd known I was alive and let me think she was dead. It startled me to fully come to the realization, but I once and for all decided I hated her. Even thinking of her made my stomach turn.
Claudia…my mind whispered. Another difficult subject to breach, even mentally. I cared about her, try as I might to deny it. She was the strongest, most intelligent, most beautiful woman I'd ever known. I could not stop myself from thinking of the way her long, ginger hair falls over her shoulders when she wears it down. My thoughts strayed to her deep brown eyes, and the way they seemed to see right through me. She understood me better than I did sometimes.
The next day, when I arrived at the Home Office to talk to Lester about the new anomaly, I felt a small pang at the sight of Claudia, who was sitting at her desk going over paperwork. She was looking down and thankfully didn't notice my staring, so I continued on to Lester's office. He was sitting in his chair, looking through a file that laid on his desk.
James Lester was the ever present -albeit well dressed- thorn in my side that worked at the Home Office and overlooked the Anomaly Operation. He and I had totally different opinions, two completely different personalities, and butted heads constantly, even over the most trivial of things. He preferred to sit in his nice air conditioned office and order people around, I preferred going out to an anomaly site to study the strange phenomena.
"Oh well look who's arrived. Shall I make arrangements for a welcome party?" he drawled sarcastically, leaning back in his chair and raising one eyebrow.
I was about to bite off a sharp retort when a piercing pain in my spine caused me to have to grasp the doorway of his office for support. It was a sharp, white hot pain that made me bite down on my lip to keep from making any noise. It slowly worked its way from my tailbone to the back of my neck, sending an unbelievable pain up and down my back. The doctor had warned me that, without treatment, the pain would get worse over time.
"Cutter, I know my sarcasm can be offensive, but that's a bit of an overreaction don't you think?" Lester said. When I looked up, he was on his feet and leaning against the front of his desk, staring at me with boredom.
"Oh my god, what's wrong?" Claudia asked me as she ran in to the office. She hovered by me worriedly, her brown eyes full of concern.
"Fine. I'm fine," I managed through gritted teeth as I pulled myself back upright, though I still held on tightly to the doorframe.
"Well, while that was terribly good fun, would anyone mind if got on with the meeting, or shall I have someone get Cutter a pacifier first ?" Lester said, looking between Claudia and I.
"You know what, Lester?" I said, letting go of the doorframe and walking over to him. My accent was becoming more pronounced with my anger, and I noticed Claudia stiffen at my tone.
"What?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest and also walking forward.
I clenched my hand into a fist, put all of my weight into it, and punched him. It was a good, hard punch to the nose, and it sent him reeling backwards. He stumbled back against his desk, clutching his bloodied nose. Blood stained his fingers, and his nose was satisfyingly crooked and obviously broken. I allowed myself a small smile as I assessed the damage. I had been wanted to hit him since we'd met.
"So, about that file?" I said, looking between him and Claudia, the latter unsuccessfully trying to hide a small smile. Of the many things she and I had in common, not liking Lester was one of them.
Later on that night, after a particularly exhausting anomaly incident, I was shocked to see a car outside my house when I arrived home. I could see a figure sitting on the steps waiting for me, and my brow furrowed as I pulled up and got out of my car. The porch light illuminated the features, and I felt a flicker of surprise when I saw Claudia.
"I'm sorry to be here so late, I just wanted to talk to you about something," she said, looking as immaculately dressed as always even at the late hour.
"It's fine, please come in," I said, unlocking the front door and holding it open for her.
"Thank you," she said, walking in and subtly glancing around.
"Can I get you some tea?" I offered, taking her jacket from her and hanging it on a hook by the door.
"That would be lovely, thanks," she nodded.
I came back from the kitchen a couple of minutes later with two cups of hot tea, and she and I sat down in the living room. She delicately perched on the edge of an armchair, and I sat down on the couch. She took a sip of her tea and then sat it back on the coaster on the coffee table, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. She twiddled with the hem of her pencil skirt, and my brow furrowed as I studied her.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"What happened today in Lester's office?" she asked abruptly, turning to fix her eyes on me.
"I decked him, for one," I said satisfactorily, happily recalling sending him reeling into his desk.
"I noticed. That's not what I mean, Nick, and you know that," she said, studied me with her overly perceptive gaze.
"It was just a little cramp, that's all," I shrugged, taking a drink of the too hot tea to avoid meeting her gaze.
"Dammit Cutter, what happened?" she demanded, her mile wide assertive streak flaring.
"Nothing," I said, sitting my tea down and finally looking at her.
"Why are you doing this, Nick? You can talk to me, you know," she said, her eyes full of concern.
"There's nothing to talk about," I shrugged, wanting to tell her and knowing I couldn't. I knew that people would treat me differently if they knew, that they would treat me like I was delicate.
"Yes, there is, tell me," she said, her accent flaring with her growing exasperation and worry.
"Stay out of it, Claudia. It's none of your business," I said sharply, hating the look of hurt that briefly crossed her features. Hurting her and pushing her away was the last thing I wanted to do, but all the same I couldn't tell her the truth.
"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow Cutter," she said, rising to her feet and pulling her jacket on before I could even get to my feet. She walked out, pulled the door closed behind her, and I was left alone. I knew I had angered and hurt her, and it killed me.
I stared after her, thinking, I'm so sorry, Claudia. I'm so sorry I have to push you away…
"I'm sorry for blaming you, for everything I just couldn't do. And I've hurt myself by hurting you." ~Christina Aguilera
Author's Note:
Do I continue? Not continue? I am not sure about this fic yet. It actually is inspired by a video of Nick my sister made to the song "Live Like You Were Dying," so this first chapter is dedicated to her. Her username is drodgers89 and she writes and amazing Stephen/Abby fic called Elsewhere, be sure to check it out! BTW this is set roughly somewhere before the finale of season 1, before Claudia disappears.
Please review and tell me what you think!