*edits this again because I made a whoops before* So It's been brought to my attention that there's a similar story out there, but about Haleb's child, through Spencer's POV and it was asked if that was the inspiration for this version. I had no idea there was another version (and tbh I'd love to read it because Haleb), and I promise the only inspiration behind this fic was the song itself. I've had people rip my stuff off and know how awful it feels, so I promise that's not what happened here. The events that happen in this one-shot are based off of the lyrics and that may be why it's similar to the other story. I can't post the lyrics here, but if you are genuinely curious or were skeptical, or just haven't heard the song, you can look up the lyrics :3 I really hope you guys know I wouldn't steal someone else's fic, or use it as inspiration without crediting them. I'm really glad this person messaged me and brought it to my attention though, because like I said, I know how it feels when someone takes credit for you work. So thank you to this person. :3
Mama!" The sound of his tiny bare feet pitter-pater across the hardwood floors. They grow faster as his laugh grows louder, Spencer in tow. He waddles down the hall, his little bow-legs carrying him as fast as they can. She catches him and scoops him up into her arms; they both laugh. He snuggles into her hold and she presses a kiss to his cheek. He's such a momma's boy- he always has been. Since the day he entered her world, he's had her wrapped around his little finger.
"You're gonna be okay," she soothes, holding her little boy. He doesn't understand the news, but he can tell that something is wrong by simply watching his parents. Toby stands in the corner of the room, trying his best to maintain his composure. He watches as his wife holds their son, and he's at a loss for words.
"It's cancer."
He hears the doctor's words repeated over and over in his head, still not able to believe it. Ronan is just a boy- only three years old. Surely this isn't happening.
But it is.
Spencer feels her heart shatter when she sees him start to cry. He's too young to understand his fate, but he picks up on the somber atmosphere in the room and knows that something is very wrong.
"Don't cry, baby. I promise it'll be okay."
"Why are you crying, Mommy?" he asks, and it takes all of Spencer's might to be able to speak past the lump in her throat.
"I'm crying because I love you so much," she tells him, and his response nearly breaks her.
"That's why I'm crying, too."
"Ready, Ro? On your mark, get set, go!"
Toby and Ronan sit on the kitchen floor, plastic cars lined up all around them. Spencer's out running errands for the day, so the two are able to spend some quality father-son time together.
He watches as his son's small hand releases the race car, and pulls ahead of Toby's at the end of their make-shift track. Ronan's excited squeals fill the room when he sees his car cross first, causing his father to smile.
"Daddy, I won!"
"You did?"
"Again, Daddy, again!"
The two continue to race for what seems like another hour, but neither mind. Toby let's his son win every time, never growing tired of hearing his excited giggles every time he does. They're too enthralled with the race that they don't even notice Spencer walk through the front door. She takes in the sight of their front room: toy cars scattered about, a train set removed from its box, and small plastic dinosaurs flung about.
She smiles. "Looks like you two had some fun."
Toby smiles back. "Don't we always?"
Spencer's eyes are downcast, focusing all of her might on controlling her emotions. The nurse brought Ronan out of the room to allow his doctor to fully go over his condition with his parents. She's glad he's not here for this moment, but part of her worries that, while he's only down the hall, she'll never see him again. She tries to push this feeling away, but she can't.
"How long?" she asks. No one needs clarification. They all know exactly what she means.
"It could be a year. It could be months."
She feels her heart break. Months. Her baby boy could be taken from her in a matter of months.
"We're trying to be a bit more optimistic in this case. He seems very strong, but this cancer is very aggressive."
"How can you be optimistic about this?"
Toby.
Spencer flinches at the pain behind his voice. She wants to join him, but she can't move. She's frozen, still unable to process the news.
The doctor gives them both a sympathetic look. "I completely understand your frustration, Mr. Cavanaugh. But for the sake of your family, especially your little boy, optimism is key."
"How do we treat it?"
"Very aggressively. We'll try chemotherapy first. If that doesn't work, we'll add radiation to it."
"And if that doesn't work?"
He's silent; he doesn't need to speak. They both know what will happen.
Spencer tries to find the right words to say. She still has so many thoughts- so many questions- running through her mind. But the words escape her. And so do the tears.
"Time for bed."
The little boy crosses his arms. "But I don't wanna."
"Come on, little man. Bed time," Toby tells him, but he still won't budge.
"I'm not tired, Daddy," he tells him, and shakes his head.
Toby's exhausted, both parents are. Getting their son's bedtime routine down has been quite the struggle lately.
"Oh, really?" he asks.
Ronan lets out a yawn, and they can tell he's beyond tired. Spencer bends down, kneeling at his eye level, and brushes his thin, blonde hair out of his face.
"You need some sleep, Ro," she tells him, but he still shakes his head.
"I don't wanna."
"Well, what do you wanna do?"
She hopes that if she allows him to tire himself out a bit more, it'll be easier for him to fall asleep. To her surprise, though, he holds out his little hands, patiently waiting for her.
"You want me to hold you?"
"No, Mama. I wanna dance."
She smiles and scoops him up into her arms, wrapping his legs around her waist. Ronan's giggles fill the room, and soon they're dancing. Spencer hums a soft tune as she moves around the room. She steps, spins and sways about, and smiles when she looks down at her baby boy, his hauntingly blue eyes locking with hers.
"Mama, guess what?" he asks, and she smiles.
"What, baby?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too. To the moon and back."
"How're you doing, Ro?"
They're in his hospital room, waiting for yet another chemotherapy session to begin. Toby and Spencer sit on either side of him, each holding one of his hands.
"I'm okay, Daddy," he assures them, but both parents know otherwise. Their son's once piercing blue eyes now appear a dull gray, almost lifeless. They both wonder if it's getting closer, but neither wants to think about it.
Spencer gives his hand a gentle squeeze, prompting him to squeeze back. It's faint, but still there.
"You're so strong, do you know that?" she whispers, kissing the top of his now-bald head.
"Like an army guy, right, Mama?"
Both parents laugh. "You're exactly right," she tells him, and she and her husband exchange a sad smile.
The nurse enters the room with an all-too-familiar tray, and it causes Ronan to cry.
"I don't want that," he tells them, shaking his head.
"It's going to make you all better," Toby tells him, even though he knows there's a good chance that it won't.
Ronan whimpers. "But it hurts."
Spencer watches as the nurse approaches the bed. She can see how scared her little boy is, and it destroys her. Knowing that there's no escaping it, Ronan finally leans back into his hospital bed and lets his eyes rest on his mother's face, waiting for the administration of the IV to be over.
She watches as the first of many silent tears stains his cheek, and she wipes it away.
"Come on, baby, with me. We're gonna fly away from here," she whispers. She watches as he closes his eyes, and presses a kiss to his damp forehead. "You've been my best three years."
"There's nothing else we can do."
Spencer nearly collapses when she hears the doctor's words. She's known from the beginning that the odds were stacked against them, but she never wanted to admit it. Neither of them did.
She immediately turns to Toby, pressing her face into his shoulder while he holds her tight. Neither of them knows what to say, or what to do. No amount of preparation could make them ready for this moment. He tries to remain strong for the sake of his wife, but once he hears her begin to sob, he can't hold back any longer.
They cry in each other's arms for what seems like hours, yet seconds at the same time. Their entire world has stopped. The very center of their universe is about to be destroyed. They're not ready. They will never be ready.
"Does- does he know?" Toby asks, looking up at Ronan's doctor, and he nods.
"I need to see him," Spencer croaks, and she takes off.
As soon as she steps into his room, she wants to step back out. The little boy lying in there now seems so fragile, so small, compared to the giant hospital bed. A mess of tubes, wires and IVs are connected to his small body, and she can barely see his face. She's beyond upset. This isn't the last image she wants to have of her strong little boy. After hesitating in the doorway for a few moments, and with the help from her husband, she slowly makes her way into his room.
"Hi, baby," she whispers, sitting down next to the bed.
"Hi, Mama," he answers, but his voice is too faint. She knows it's almost time.
She takes hold of his frail hand, and rubs it between her own. She's at a loss for words.
"How're you doing, bud?"
Toby sits down next to her, wrapping an arm around her. He can feel her frame start to shake, his heart breaks. He feels so helpless.
"I don't feel good."
"I know, Ro. But you'll feel better soon."
"When I go to heaven?" he asks, and Spencer immediately bursts into tears. Neither parent knows what to say to that.
"Yes, baby," she finally answers.
"Will I still be sick?"
"No."
"Can I go now?" he asks, and she can feel her heart crumble. She doesn't want to be selfish- she doesn't want to keep him suffering.
Toby can tell that his wife's unable to continue the conversation, so, thankfully, he steps in. "Why?"
"Because I don't want to be sick anymore. And I don't want you and Mommy to be sad anymore."
"We're not sad, Ronan," he tells him.
"Then why are you crying?"
"Because we love you," Spencer whispers, gripping tightly onto her son's hand.
"I love you, too, Mommy."
Spencer stares blankly out the passenger-side window, her knees pulled up to her chest. It's been one day. One whole day since her baby boy died, yet it feels like it's been a lifetime. She feels as if she could cry, but she can't. She doesn't have any tears left. She looks over at her husband, gripping tightly onto the steering wheel, and watches the constant stream of tears running down his face. She wants to comfort him, but she doesn't know how. She knows there's nothing she could do to take the pain away.
"Toby?" she asks, but his eyes don't leave the road.
He stays quiet, and she doesn't say another word. They're both left alone with their agony, watching as their son's short life flashes before their eyes. Spencer's exhausted, physically and emotionally, and feels her eyes start to close. She tries to fight it, but there's no use. There's still a long way to go back to their house, and she can't bear to watch her husband fall apart. It's too much for her to see her normally-stable husband so distraught. It's even more unbearable, because she knows there's not a thing in the world she can do to help.
It isn't long before she jolts awake to the sound of Toby, loudly sobbing at the wheel. She sits up in her spot and notices that they're pulled over onto the side of the road and wonders how long they've been parked.
Spencer hasn't seen him this upset in a long time, and it kills her. She tries to think of what to do, but jumps when she hears him yell.
"Dammit!"
She tries to comfort him, but it's no use.
"Why? What did we do, what did he do to deserve this?"
"I-I don't know," she cries, trying to maintain her own composure, but it's no use.
He stares out the window for a few moments, tears running down his face, before beating his fists down on the steering wheel. Over and over, he hits the leather fabric, and now Spencer's beyond worried.
"Toby," she calls out to him, but to no avail. He still seems to be in a trance.
"He doesn't deserve any of this!"
She sits up in her seat just a little, trying to get his attention. "Toby-"
"He was just a kid!"
"Toby, stop!"
This time, he seems to hear her voice, and his head jerks towards that direction. She just looks at him, unsure of what to say or do, now that she has his attention. They stare into each other's broken, pain-filled eyes before he finally leans into her. He continues to sob, holding onto her as tight as he can. She runs her hands through his hair and tries to reassure him that everything will be okay, but she knows that it's all just lies. They weren't okay. Nothing would ever be okay.
It's been one week. One long, agonizing week. They've been surrounded by loved ones for the past several days, allowing them to try their best at providing a distraction.
Pictures line the mantle in the living room. Even more line the walls. Black-clad guests filter in, causing Spencer to suffocate. It's all just more a reminder of what used to be.
Flowers pile up in the worst way. Bouquets are placed wherever there's room, and there's not much left. She can't look at another basket without feeling a crushing wave of grief wash over her, and she promptly leaves the room, not even caring about the guests she's just abandoned.
She finds herself at the end of the hallway, in front of Ronan's room. The door's shut; it hasn't been opened in days. It's too hard for her to walk by and see it. She reaches out a shaky hand and slowly opens the door, hearing herself gasp as she walks into his room.
His bed is still made, as if waiting for a child to come and crawl under the sheets. Race cars are scattered around the floor, as if he's returning to play with them. The picture that Toby had captured of her, holding Ronan for the first time, is still framed and on the bedside table. Pictures of the small family hang on the walls, and she walks into the room, slowly looking over each one.
She comes to the closet and sees that it's still closed. She's hopeful that maybe he really isn't gone. He's standing on the other side of that door, waiting to be found. It's always been his favorite spot to hide.
A sudden of surge of hope courses through her and she whips open the door with a smile. "I found you!"
But her heart sinks when she realizes that no one's there. He's not there, and he never will be again.
Spencer looks around and finds a small bear of his in the corner, one that he would always carry with him. Seeing it brings her to tears and she sits down in her spot, defeated, clutching onto the bear with all of her might. Her tears turn into sobs, and soon she wonders how no one else can hear her. She wants Toby, but at the same time, she wants to be alone. She feels conflicted. She's in so much pain.
"I miss you so much," she cries, and she can feel herself rocking back and forth. "Please come home."
Spencer knows it's pointless; he'll never come home. Yet she continues to cry.
"I need you, sweet boy. I need you here with me."
She doesn't even care about the guests downstairs anymore. Not that she ever really did to begin with. She pulls a sweatshirt off of a hanger and places it on the floor to use as a pillow. As she lies down, she inhales the scent, and soon finds herself clinging onto it, along with the bear, hoping it will bring her some sense of comfort. But it's no use.
"Spencer?" She hears someone call out, but she doesn't reply.
They sound worried, and it doesn't take long for her to figure out who it is. She wants to answer him, but she can't. She's beyond exhausted and she can't find the words.
"Hello?"
The sound of her husband's voice causes her eyes to well up, and, soon enough, she finds herself crying yet again.
Hearing her, Toby runs into Ronan's room. He simply lies down beside her, knowing she's too exhausted to move, and brings her into his arms. This time, it's him that soothes her.
"I love you so much," he tells her. He wants to tell her that everything will be okay, but they both know that it's a lie.
"You've been so strong. I'm so proud of you."
She just sobs, but the sound is muffled by his chest. He continues to hold her because he knows that, while it's not much, it's the only thing he can really do to help.
"He's gone," she cries. "He's never coming back."
"I know, babe. I know."
"What are we supposed to do?"
"We make it through," he tells her. "No matter how hard it is. Because that's exactly what he would want us to do."
Spencer falls quiet and the tears stream quietly down her face. He cradles her head against his shoulder, holding her tight as he whispers "Come on, baby, with me. We're gonna fly away from here."
"You were my best four years."