Finally! The second bit! Haha! Sorry about the wait but I wanted to see if anyone actually wanted me to continue. Thank you so much to I-Emma-Writer, OnyxFlames and rimaryan for following, reviewing, favouriting, etc.
Dennis now had an hour until the Bourbon opened. Stacee Jaxx would be arriving any minute for sound check, and so would Drew and Sherrie. How was Dennis supposed to break the news to them?
What if Lonny didn't qualify for a transplant?
A polite knock on the door of the office indicated the presence of either Sherrie or Constance, since Drew would've called out and Stacee wouldn't have even bothered to walk all the way up to the office before going to his dressing room.
Dennis didn't bother to make sure he looked presentable, because he knew he probably didn't, and he didn't care.
Sherrie gasped slightly as Dennis opened the door. He looked awful. Despite his rumpled clothes, his eyes were red rimmed, almost like he'd been crying. But that was ridiculous. Unless...
"Is everything ok?"
Dennis shook his head.
"Where's Lonny? Is he alright?"
Dennis shook his head again.
"No, he's not ok. Can you get the others up here for a second? We need to talk."
Sherrie nodded slowly, an uneasy feeling forming in her stomach.
A few moments later, Sherrie, Drew, Stacee, Constance and Dennis sat around in the office.
They sat in silence for a while. Stacee took a swig from a half empty bottle of vodka before offering it to Dennis, who shook his head. Figuring that Lonny would not be permitted to drink, Dennis had decided to go easy on the alcohol too, in order to make it easier on his partner. Of course, it was never going to be easy when he worked and lived in a nightclub.
"What's up?" Drew asked, he was starting to get worried. He hadn't seen Dennis upset like this since, well, ever.
"Where's Lonny?" Constance questioned, suddenly pinpointing why the room was so quiet.
"He's in the other room, sleeping." Dennis replied, "H-he's sick."
The room fell into silence once again. Apart from frequent hangovers, Lonny was never ill.
"How sick?" Stacee ventured after a moment. Dennis sighed.
"He hasn't been looking too well recently. He hasn't been eating, and he's been sick a couple of times, so I told him to go to the doctor."
"And?" Sherrie asked gently.
"He has liver cancer. If he doesn't qualify for a transplant, he has seven months." His voice cracked at the end of the sentence, fighting back emotion in front of his friends.
Everyone was shocked.
"H-how?" Drew sputtered.
"The drinking. They think it was the drinking." Dennis responded blankly. Stacee let the bottle of vodka slip from his hand and smash onto the floor. No one noticed.
"But, he'll qualify for a transplant won't he? He'll be fine right?" Sherrie asked with raised eyebrows. Dennis shrugged.
Stacee turned to Constance, who was currently Arsenal's manager.
"Cancel the rest of the tour, book us into the first hotel with a vacancy. We're not going anywhere."
Constance nodded.
"How is he?" Drew asked.
"Scared." Dennis replied, suddenly regretting his decision to give up the booze. He didn't even get to say goodbye...
"Do you think you should maybe close up shop, just for tonight anyways?" Sherrie asked. None of them felt in the mood to perform anymore.
Dennis nodded.
"Yeah, I think I will. Could you go downstairs and send everyone home?"
"With pay?"
"Sure."
Sherrie and Drew left the office to send everyone home, and Constance left to start working out hotel arrangements, among other things. That left the two rock'n'roll brothers alone in the office.
"…And how are you feeling?" Stacee asked.
"How do you think I'm feeling?" Dennis snapped, "I've never been so scared in my entire life!" Dennis threw the first thing he found, an ashtray, across the room in frustration.
"Easy, easy. Calm down. You don't wanna wake him up, do you?"
Dennis sighed and sat down in his desk chair.
"No. I just got him to sleep."
They both grinned. They often made passing jokes about the fact that Dennis spent most of his time parenting Lonny.
"Look, chances are, he'll qualify for a transplant. And then you'll just have to look after him a little more than usual. That's all."
"And if he doesn't?"
"You can't afford to think like that."
"Yeah. I know, it's just-"
"I know. Look, why don't you go downstairs, use the payphone, and call his family or something." Stacee suggested.
"…I'd rather use the phone in here."
"And risk Lonny overhearing you? Go. I'll look after him."
Dennis nodded.
"You're right. Thanks."
Stacee sauntered into the other room, and stared at Lonny. He looked surprisingly pale. The rock god smiled a little, remembering the first few years he'd known the brunette. They hadn't gotten on brilliantly at first, and Stacee blamed himself for that. He could've at least got the kid's name right, and maybe stopped calling him a kid.
But Stacee liked to think of himself as the first one to work out Lonny and Dennis' real feelings for each other. It was, in Stacee's opinion, rather obvious. It was the way they looked at each other when the other wasn't looking. If Dennis spoke, Lonny gave him his undivided attention, most of the time, and Dennis had always had a protective streak when it came to Lonny.
Stacee's thoughts were interrupted when Lonny stirred, and half opened one eye.
"Dennis?"
Stacee chuckled.
"Wrong brother."
"Stacee?
"Yeah. Dennis is downstairs. Calling your folks I think." Stacee spoke in his usual tone, he sounded as though nothing was wrong, and Lonny was grateful. He didn't feel like pity at the moment. But it quickly sunk in that Stacee was acting as a babysitter, and Lonny frowned at the thought.
"He doesn't want me to be alone." It wasn't a question, but Stacee still nodded in confirmation.
"Yeah. Drew and Sherrie are sending everyone, with pay I think. And Constance is organising hotels and stuff."
"You're staying?" Lonny asked, mildly surprised.
"Yeah. I think we should." Stacee moved to sit in one of the dining chairs in the kitchen, about five steps away from the bed. It was a small apartment, but Lonny and Dennis never complained. It served its purpose.
"You don't have to." Lonny muttered guiltily.
"We want to." Stacee said simply, "When a family member's sick, you make sacrifices."
"You shouldn't." Lonny protested, "Really, you shouldn't. You should keep touring. Dennis'll keep you posted and-"
Stacee held up one hand to silence his friend, "We're staying."
Lonny sighed and let his head flop back against the pillow – Dennis' pillow – and inhaled the scent with a smile. The panic of the day had exhausted him, and as he drifted off to sleep he absent-mindedly wondered if anyone had cried.
Well, I hope I didn't disappoint the people who have been waiting for ages. Lol. I have a little more of the story left but it's pretty far from completed. So whether this'll ever be finished or not is hard to say.