It happened again. One moment Jem was fine, laughing and happy. The next he was feverish, fatigued and coughing up mucus and blood. Now, Will prowled around the hospital waiting room, his fury building with every second. He had brought Jem to the emergency department at the hospital, and they had been told to sit and wait, when Jem was undoubtedly severely ill. Everything was white, so white that Jem's red blood stood out in stark contrast. They had finally brought him in to examine him, and Will was left to wait here in this unfamiliar room. A movie was playing on TV – Narnia to be exact – but Will was not interested, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on it, because he mind was elsewhere. He paced back and forth, full of nervous energy. The smell of disinfectant dominated his nose, making him feel dizzy.
It wasn't the first time Will had taken Jem to the emergency department of the hospital; they had been far too many times to count. So much so that Will knew the names of every nurse and doctor. However, it had been Will's stupid idea to getaway for a weekend to the beach, to try and take Jem's mind off his illness. Now Jem was sick again, and it was probably his fault. What a stupid, stupid idea. Will's fists clenched angrily. If they had just stayed home maybe Jem wouldn't have got sick; maybe they wouldn't be in a hospital.
Will was wrenched from his thoughts when an alarm bell sounded. He looked around wildly, already dreading the worst. He could just see into the triage through a small window, and what he saw horrified him. Nurses rushed around in panic, and Will could just see Jem being lifted onto a hospital stretcher. His eyes were closed, and he looked so small, like a child, dwarfed by the oversized bed. Will ran over to the doors, banging on them, not caring that the other people waiting were telling him to stop, or that the children hid behind their parents, scared of his rage.
His voice was ragged and raw as he yelled at the nurses, saying anything really, begging them to let him in. As they opened the doors, he could sense disapproval radiating off them. They told him only family was allowed. Obviously they had decided just by looking at him, that he wasn't related to Jem, since Jem looked of Asian descent. But they didn't understand – he and Jem were like brothers, closer than blood even. They had been best friends since primary school, ever since Will had stuck up for Jem when he had been teased, and Jem had smiled at him and thanked him. Jem had been there to fill the void in his heart when his sister, Ella, died.
He tried to explain to the nurses that Jem had no family, as his parents had died when he was young. He tried to tell them that Jem was his family, and that he didn't want Jem to be alone, but they wouldn't listen. They just told him to sit down and wait. Will swore angrily, he was allowed in at their local hospital, they even knew his name. But because of this stupid holiday, he was stuck here, separated from Jem. He pulled at his curling black hair in frustration.
He refused to give up, Jem might need his help, or his strength. So, he resumed banging on the doors, and yelling at the top of his lungs. Eventually Will made enough of a ruckus that they let him come in, through the solid white doors, which reminded him of a prison. A short nurse, who kept checking her clock, guided him through the maze of the wards. She pushed him through a curtain and left him there at Ward 2b. Will sucked in his breath, gazing down at his sick friend. Please let him be ok… please let him be ok… please let him be ok, was Will's mantra, which he kept repeating in his head.
Jem had been diagnosed with tuberculosis the previous year, and he had been taking a course of antibiotics for nine months, but it hadn't cured him, as it seemed he had a drug-resistant form of tuberculosis. He was now taking second-line drugs, in what the doctors called an "aggressive regimen." These drugs had been giving him terrible side effects, including hallucinations and depression. It was hard to tell if they were even working. Will could see that the drugs he was taking were just as bad as the disease itself, and he hated to see his friend suffer. Especially when it seemed Jem was doing it for Will, not himself anymore.
Jem looked as pale and delicate as a white rose, his face chalk white, and his eyes closed. His veins were prominent his neck and arms, his skin almost translucent. His black hair was tinted slightly silver from the medication he had been taking. Will's gaze jumped to Jem's mouth and neck, checking if he was still breathing, and had a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Jem take a short, shaky breath. Tubes and needles covered him, monitoring all of his vitals, and Will could see his heart was still beating on the monitor, although weakly.
A doctor entered, holding a folder of information, and blinked at Will, looking surprised.
"Is he ok?" Was the first question that flew out of his mouth. It was the only question that mattered, really.
Doctor Mathews – which Will had read off his nametag - nodded slightly. "He fell unconscious when we were examining him, but his vitals are now steady, so we believe he should wake up soon. I have given him some medicine, including painkillers, which should help."
Will unclenched his hands, dragging a chair over beside Jem's bed. He looked up at the doctor, unable to hide his hope, that maybe this doctor knew more. "Is there anything you can do?"
Doctor Matthews looked at him in sympathy, an expression Will had seen too many times before. However, he was honest, which Will appreciated. "I'm sorry, but these drugs are his best chance of survival. I know they seem terrible, but the alternative is for him to wait for death."
And just like that, his hope was crushed like an autumn leaf. His face filled with dismay, and he looked down at Jem.
It should be him, he thought furiously. Jem was so caring and polite, the best person Will had ever met. Like a saint, even. Why should he be stricken with such an illness? Such a thing should be reserved for people like Will. If he could trade places with Jem, he would, without a second thought.
The doctor came and left a few more times, and Will sat by Jem's side, silently willing him to wake up. He got used to the rhythmic talking and footsteps that echoed throughout the corridor, and he found himself falling asleep, exhausted by all the worry.
Will was awoken by a sound. When he opened his eyes, he felt Jem suddenly grab his arm, his grip weak, but sure.
"Will, is that you?" Jem said, without opening his eyes.
"Yes it's me," he whispered back softly.
Jem's eyes, when they opened, were large and feverish, but he seemed coherent enough. He focused his eyes on Will.
"Jem, you're ok, the doctors think you were just sick from the drugs. You'll be alright," he repeated, trying to reassure both Jem and himself.
Jem tightened his grip slightly and said, his voice wavering, "Will, I can't do this anymore. I feel horrible all the time."
Will shook his head vigorously, "This is the fever talking, you'll feel better in the morning." You wouldn't just give up, he thought desperately. But in the back of his mind, he knew Jem had been fighting for so long already, and his body grew weaker every day.
"Thank you so much for everything you've done for me Will. You have no idea what it's meant to me. I just…" Jem's voice faltered slightly, "I just can't live like this anymore. I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with sorrow and guilt.
Will and Jem looked at each other, conveying their thoughts through their eyes. Will blinked away tears, and his throat closed up, feeling like his air supply was being cut off. He couldn't force Jem to take anything if he didn't want to. And Will didn't want him to suffer any more than he had to. It's just… he couldn't lose another person he loved. But if that was what Jem truly wanted, then he would let him. Will would be there for him, forever, till the end.
He gripped Jem's hand tightly, conveying the unspoken words that he would stand by Jem's side no matter what. Ultimately, Will pondered if he would be able to live without Jem. For a world without Jem was a world without the soft chords of music, the sunset on the horizon, and the strong ever-present bond of friendship.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in a review. It was quite emotional to write. In case you're interested, I listened to Medicine by Daughter while I wrote this, however, I couldn't include the relevant lyrics, as I didn't want to break any rules. Also, I did a bit of research on tuberculosis, but I apologise if I have gotten anything wrong.
~ SilverJem5
