A/N: Oh Wow! You guys are awesome! I never thought I'd get so many reviews for this story, let alone the first chapter! Thank you guys so much. Each great review made me want to write more. So, after a crazy weekend, I bring you...Chapter 2!
Important!: So, I've realized that most 'sick Ryan' stories spend the majority of the story set in a hospital. Well, going along with my whole 'making this story different,' I decided not to do that. But, I also know sick people have to go to the hospital sometimes. So, yes, some of this chapter takes place in the hospital. Also, don't get confused! This chapter is set as a flashback to show when the Cohens learned Ryan was sick. The next chapter, which will hopefully be posted by the end of the week, will continue with the same time line as chapter 1. But I thought I should take it back to show you how it (kind of) began...
Disclaimer: Check out disclaimer from Chapter 1, because I still don't own any of it. Well, I do own Dr. Armstrong, but is that really something to be proud of?! Also, the lyrics at the start of this chapter belong to the incredible band Death Cab for Cutie, and although I love the song, it is not mine.
Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines / In a place where we only say goodbye. / It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend / On a faulty camera in our minds. / And I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose / Than to have never lain beside at all. / And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground / As the TV entertained itself. What Sarah Said, Death Cab For Cutie
Ryan could remember when the Cohens first discovered he was sick. He hadn't been feeling well for days, but was afraid to tell the Cohens, thinking they would make it into a bigger deal than he thought it was.
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Ryan sat on his bed, a comic Seth had lent him perched on his raised legs, when there was a knock on the pool house door, and a couple seconds later, Sandy peeked his head in.
"Hey Kid, dinner's here," Ryan's dark haired guardian said, motioning to the main house.
"Uh, no thanks. I'm not really that hungry," Ryan replied, hoping he sounded normal.
Sandy's large eyebrows furrowed, and he looked his foster son up and down. He was definitely losing weight. "Are you feeling alright, Ryan? You haven't eaten all day."
Sensing Sandy's worry, Ryan jumped out of bed. "On second thought, maybe I could use something to eat." He threw his crooked smile Sandy's way, hoping to ward off any suspicion. It seemed to work, as Sandy shrugged and smiled back.
"Okay, Kid, I'll see you inside."
As Ryan went to pull on another shirt over the wifebeater he was currently sporting, he had found himself start to cough and hack. He had been doing this a lot lately, but figured he was just coming down with something. Finding it hard to remain standing, he lowered himself down to a sitting position on one of the pool house's few stairs. He continued coughing, making his throat feel scratchy and sore. Looking down, he noticed blood droplets on the hardwood flooring that had splattered out of his mouth.
Panic quickly washed over him. This hadn't happened before! Still slightly hacking, he dashed into the bathroom and grabbed a roll of toilet paper. He walked back into the main room of the pool house, and squatted down to clean the blood up.
He was breathing really hard now, all tired out, and he knew he shouldn't have run so fast into the bathroom. He had been experiencing shortness of breath a lot recently. He had stopped going to soccer practice because of it, and had been trying to think up an excuse in case his coach called the Cohens wondering where he was.
After cleaning the blood off the floor, Ryan remembered the Cohens were waiting for him inside. He really wasn't in the mood to eat now, but not wanting to worry them, he grabbed his grey hoodie off the chair by the door, and he slowly made his way to the main house, trying to catch his breath back on the way there.
Inside the kitchen, Kirsten Cohen was finishing setting the table, while Sandy was retrieving glasses from the cupboard and drinks from the fridge. Seth stood by the island, ogling the ordered thai and deciding what to put in his belly first. Ryan grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge, then went to stand by Seth.
As Seth began telling Ryan some bizarre and uninteresting story about something that had happened at school that day, Ryan took a long sip of the cold water bottle. It felt soothing on his sore throat, but unfortunately, it was short lived. As soon as he placed the bottle down in front of him, he began coughing and hacking again. His hand shot up to block the coughs with the side of his knuckle.
When the coughing dyed down, he looked around and noticed all the Cohens were staring at him. Embarrassed, he muttered, "Sorry, choked," and tried to avoid their questioning gazes.
"Are you okay, Dude?" Seth asked after a moment, and Ryan saw he was looking down. Ryan followed his gaze, and that's when he noticed the thick red blood dripping down the side of his hand. The hand he had used to try to stifle his coughing. He quickly pulled his hand up into the sleeve of his hoodie.
"I'm fine," Ryan said to Seth, his tone oozing with seriousness.
"Dad..." Seth called in an uneasy voice, ignoring Ryan's response.
"What's wrong, Seth?" Sandy sounded very concerned. It sort of scared Ryan.
"I'm fine," he said again, hoping he sounded convincing.
"Ryan just coughed up...blood," Seth answered his dad, gulping loudly as he did so.
Sandy looked from Ryan's pale face, down to where the dark red blood droplets were leaking through the light grey sleeve.
The look on Sandy's face was so full of concern, Ryan wished he could just disappear right then. Finally, Sandy got out, "Ryan, can I see you in the living room, now." It wasn't a question, and Sandy led the way, expecting Ryan to follow. Once seated across from each other on the living room's fancy couches, Sandy spoke again. "What's wrong with you? And I want the truth this time, Ryan."
With the way Sandy said that last line, Ryan knew he had blown it, and he decided it would be best to just tell the truth.
"I don't feel well, I guess," he started off, sounding unsure. "I've been coughing a lot. Now I'm coughing up blood. I'm not hungry, I'm constantly tired, and I run out of breath easily," he speedily finished up.
Sandy nodded, sadly. "And why didn't you tell me, or Kirsten, this earlier?"
Ryan shrugged and looked down at his bloody sleeve guiltily. "I didn't think it was a big deal." His answer came out sounding more like a question.
"Ryan, look at me," Sandy waited until he had the teen's full attention. "Any time something is hurting you, no matter how big or small, you can tell me or Kirsten, and we will make it better." After a moment, he stood up. "Now come on, we have to get you to the hospital."
"But you haven't eaten dinner yet. I can wait," Ryan said quietly. He looked up, and could see pity in his guardian's eyes.
"Ryan, your well-being is more important than me eating dinner on time. Let's go." And Ryan felt his heart sink at something that should have been so painfully obvious.
Before they left, Sandy peeked into the kitchen and pulled Kirsten to the side. "Im taking Ryan to the hospital. You and Seth should eat some dinner. I'll call if there's any problems."
"Okay, Sweetheart," Kirsten said, before planting a kiss on her husband's lips.
As Sandy headed out the door, he could hear Seth badgering his mom with "Where's Dad going?"
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All Sandy wanted to know was, how could this have happened? The doctors had seen something on the CT scan, and the biopsy proved it. Ryan Atwood had lung cancer. This shouldn't be happening, thought Sandy, not to Ryan. Hadn't this boy been through enough?
Ryan had smoked practically a pack a day from the age of ten up until he moved in with the Cohens. He had spent almost all of his life surrounded by people smoking cigarettes. His mom, his dad, his older brother Trey, all of his mom's boyfriends. Although he was still so young, the doctors weren't completely shocked by this.
Ryan was diagnosed with small cell lung carcinoma. It had started on his primary bronchi, and rapidly grew and spread, Dr. Armstrong had informed the boy and his heartbroken family.
As Sandy held his sniffling wife close, the doctor went through the most important part: the treatment.
"Chemotherapy," Dr. Armstrong explained. "It will be administered intravenously, once a week. It will destroy all the cancer cells, but will eventually take out all the good cells as well. There will be side effects, anything from nausea to bladder problems. And his hair will fall out, but we can fit him with a wig if he'd like. But the chemo will give him extra time." He turned to face Ryan, who was laying in a hospital bed. "It will give you at least a few extra months, but Ryan, we've had patients who lived up to five more years." Dr. Armstrong looked at Sandy and Kirsten again. "Just think what Ryan could do with five more years. He could graduate, spend time with his friends and family, the people who love him. He could go and do all the things he's always wanted to do."
"Whatever it takes," Kirsten said. "Just don't let us lose Ryan, not yet."
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Ryan could slowly feel himself coming back into consciousness, but he wasn't ready to wake up yet. Wasn't ready to return to a world where his fate had already been sealed. After a minute of being semi-conscious, he realized he could hear voices. He quickly recognized they belonged to Sandy and Kirsten.
"These drugs can get pretty pricey," he heard Kirsten tell Sandy. They must have been looking at some kind of pamphlet.
"I can't believe your insurance doesn't cover this!" exclaimed Sandy angrily.
"Sh," Kirsten hissed, "you'll wake Ryan. Don't worry, we'll be fine."
Later, as Ryan attempted to choke down his hospital meal, he looked over at his guardians seated by the bed.
"You know, maybe we shouldn't bother with this chemo thing."
Kirsten reached out to touch his arm soothingly. "Oh Sweetie, it's okay if you are scared."
"I'm not scared," Ryan blurted out, sounding more angry than he had intended. Kirsten jerked back slightly at his sudden outburst. "I just think it's stupid for you guys to shell out a bunch of money so I can live a couple more months!"
"Don't say that!" Sandy roared. "You are getting the chemo. End of argument!"
Ryan couldn't believe it. He had been yelled at for trying to save the Cohens money. It didn't dawn on him then that it wasn't him his new family was so angry at, but the lung cancer that was slowly and painfully taking him away from them.