Author's note at the end


.

CHAPTER TWO

.

Sunday, April 14th

.

You never know how attached you are to your mane until you risk losing it, Jamie pondered while inspecting himself on his bathroom , he ran an hand through his locks, reassuring himself of its presence.

Almost one month taking his chemo pills, and his hair still remained strong and very much present on his head - albeit maybe not as shiny as they were before. Maybe it was vain of him to care so much about something so frivolous - hair was hair, and it could always grow back once he got back on the healthy side after all. But eh, you get comfort where you can, and Jamie definitely needed some these days.

Chemo was taking a serious toll on his body, and knowing that it was just the start made him often doubt of his chances of even pulling through the treatment. Sure, he had kept all of his hair, but not even the baggy sweatshirts he wore could hide the amount of weight he had lost the past weeks.

Not that it was really surprising him, considering how much trouble he had to get anything down and to keep it there. In fact, he had became so tired of vomiting everything that entered his mouth that he barely ate anything anymore, and most of it immediately came back up anyway. It was a tiring, desperate process that left him with low-blood pressure and even more fatigue than the whole cancer already came with.

His oncologist, Dr . Thompson, was not happy about it. She had frowned disapprovingly during all of their weekly appointment two days ago. Said that his already petite frame couldn't hold much more weight loss. She had told him that they were going to have to swap one of his medicament for another that should help him grow some appetite back - and hopefully not make his meals reappear as soon as they've entered. He had nodded, and went to get his new pills at the nurse station. One more little bottle to add to his growing collection, he had thought. They were taking almost all of the place on his wall cupboard now.

.

Jaime sighed, and got out of his bathroom. He really needed to dress himself if he didn't want to be too late for Sunday's dinner. His first since he had started chemotherapy, and if he was listening to himself, he would chicken out and make up an excuse not to go, just to not have to suffer all the question that were sure about to come. But as a responsible adult, Jamie knew that postponing the meeting with the others was only going to bring more suspicions and questions his way - still, he wished he could just hide in a little cave and never come out.

The soon to be ex-police officer knew that if he was honest with himself, he had been nothing but responsible during the past three weeks.

Sure, he had taken his medication at the time his doctor had told him to.

But rather than making the much dreaded calls, he had begged Renzulli to accept that he took a two weeks leave straight away. The sergeant had seemed a bit suspicious at his demand, but bless the guy, had accepted without too much convincing needed, saying that it was indeed high times that he took some time off, and that « seriously you've been looking paler than an aspirin lately kid ».

Jamie had then hop on a plane to Florida and stayed a week at Anton's house, a friend from Harvard. If his friend had been surprised when he arrived, he hadn't show it for a minute, and Jamie had been touched to notice how happy Anton was to spend time with him. He had met his coworkers and friends, go out and drink with them, and visited the city during the day while Anton was at work.

He didn't really knew what he had been expecting when he decided out of the blue to go to another state, but Jamie did not regret it for a had been a perfect getaway. He had enjoyed his time and almost forget about the tumor-in-his-head-situation, medication time aside. He had felt fine all week long, taking his pills while Anton was not there to see and ask questions, and everything had been perfect.

After spending such a great time, second week hit him like a truck at full speed. As soon as he got home constant dizziness, low-grade fever and an ever so-present nausea made their apparition, sometimes even followed by vertigo bouts. Even standing up proved to be a challenge, and he only went out to get to his hospital appointment. That truly sucked, and he was grateful that everyone believed him to be in another city, and thus would not come and see him.

But days passed, and questions inevitably started coming.

Of course, he knew that the short text he sent to Eddie telling her that he was going away for two weeks and that he would bring her back a souvenir from Florida would not satisfy her. He had known the second he pressed send that she would try to call him to ask for some explanations as to why he had not told her that in person, and what the hell was going on with him. And she had. But apart from a few quick SMS, he had been mute for the two weeks, which made him prepared for the sight of a really pissed Eddie waiting at his door the night marking the official end of his vacation.

She had been fuming when he opened the door, but had calm down immediately when she got a look at his face, and saw him wobbling his way to his couch on unsteady legs.

She had sat down next to him and he had told her about the tumor and the treatment. He had tried not to notice the tears rolling quietly on her cheeks when he was finished, and they had hugged for a while in silence, neither of them moving. It truly had felt nice to tell someone, and she hadn't been resentful that he hadn't done it before.

« What are you going to do now ? Telling Renzulli tomorrow ? » Eddie had asked, and he had looked at her in total loss. Telling Renzulli meant that his father and Danny would automatically know, and he knew that they would not take it well to learn it from someone else than him. He wasn't even sure if he was ready to tell them ! (He was definitely not and would probably never be) And even if he decided to resign without giving a reason to Renzulli, his father would still know shortly after and inevitably come to ask him why.

Sometimes - often - having your father as the PC majorly sucked. Eddie had sensed his discomfort, and told him to take another week off « just say you have the flu or something Reagan, they won't doubt you », but made him promise to come clean at the end of it. She had swore not to tell anyone until then, and had stayed true to her promess. She had came every single day of the week, staying him for hours before and after her tour, and he had felt truly relieved to have her by his side, helping him do the simplest chore and just distracting him with her ever so-enjoyable presence.

.

Eddie knew how stressed he was for today, and has even proposed to come with him - but it was something he had to face alone.

His father had let him stay in peace for the past two weeks, just giving him a quick call each Sunday. Maybe Frank had sensed that his youngest needed some time alone, or maybe he just had a busy schedule, but either way, Jamie did not complained about it.

Erin mainly communicated by texts, so it had been easier to respond to her - no need to fake energy to make his voice less miserable or anything.

Danny though had been the real challeng. He hadn't bought his sudden decision to take a two-weeks leave as easily as the others, and had tried calling him ten times the first three days alone. So Jaime had send him a short SMS telling him that everything was fine and that they'll see each other soon, which apparently hadn't been the right thing to do because his brother then started texting him dozens of questions that made him felt like he was the current suspect in Danny's new investigation. Eh, thinking of it now, maybe he was. But anyway, he had stop responding then, and Jaime knew that this would earn him a very angry discussion with the detective in a few hours.

Eh, maybe playing the cancer card will save me there, he thought, a grim smile on his lips.

He inspected himself on the mirror one last time. His legs were floating a bit on his pants, but that was okay - nothing to noticeable. He had to go down three notches on his belt to hold them up, but no one had to know that, so this was okay too. He debated putting on another shirt on top of the two he already had under his sweatshirt - he always was feeling cold these days, and it made him seem a bit heavier -, but finally decided against it. Three t-shirt and a sweatshirt in a quite warm month of April would definitely raise some eyebrows at the dinner table if the Reagan were to discover it, and it was not a risk he wanted to take. He gently slapped himself on the cheeks to try to get some colors back on his face, tried to ignore his very pronounced dark circles, took his car keys on the kitchen counter and got to his car before he could change his mind.

Briefly wondering if he should really be driving in his state, he turned the contact on, and vowed himself to stay calm. Today the Reagan, tomorrow Renzulli. Three weeks of cowardly avoiding it leading to this moment. He sure as hell wasn't excited for that.

.


Hiiii

So sorry for the long wait, the place I'm staying at at the moment have very unstable Wi-Fi. I hope this long chapter will make you all forgive me :)

Thanks a lot for your reviews, it really made my day !

EmLiketoWrites, I'm really sorry to hear about your best friend. I hope that you are okay and that wherever he is right now, he is at peace too, and send you all of my love.

See you all as soon as possible xoxo