Kiku could not be sure if it happened too quickly for him to notice, or if he simply did not want to notice it.
He soon came to the conclusion that it was the latter, however, since he found himself actively trying not to notice. But the changes grew too prevalent to ignore. It seemed as though one day Heracles was able to sit up and talk for extended periods of time, and the next he could barely speak for a full minute without growing exhausted. One day, he could hide his pain in a stoic expression. The next, all he could do was lie perfectly still and try to keep from crying. Of course it did not happen that fast, but to Kiku, it might as well have.
If Kiku could say one thing, it was that he tried. He tried to detach himself from his work, tried to keep treating Heracles and the relationship they had separate, tried to bat away the feelings of dread and sympathy and fear that hung over him like vultures. Most days, he was able to switch these emotions off. Most days, he could handle it. Most days, he could go as far as to forget what was happening. In the end, that was all he could do. But some days, he couldn't quite bring himself to. Some days he had no choice but to feel.
The moment Kiku walked into Heracles's room one day in September, he knew it would be one of those days.
When he got there, Heracles was lying flat on his back, seemingly taking a great interest in the ceiling. He caught sight of Kiku, and for a long moment only stared at him as though they had never met. "Kiku," he said. "Kiku, you…you usually come in the mornings."
"Um, yes." Kiku immediately felt a vague sense of wrongness, but tried his best to ignore it. "This is the same time I come everyday, Heracles. You know that."
"But, it's…" Heracles looked as if he tried to sit up, but gave up on it. "The middle of the night."
That feeling of wrongness was no longer vague. It was overpowering. "What?" Kiku walked further into the room even if he felt hesitant to. "Heracles, it is past seven in the morning."
Heracles did not seem to even hear him. "But you also come in the evenings," he said. "So it is like…two mornings a day. Which one is this?"
Kiku tried to stifle the growing fear rising in his chest, but he was quickly losing the battle. Heracles sounded like a robot, and his blank, unseeing eyes were befitting of one. "Heracles." He sat down on the edge of the bed. Heracles didn't react. "You are not making any sense."
"I am making sense. I was just saying it is the middle of the night, and you're here, but it's the morning, so it is like the evening…" Heracles paused to cough into his hand, nearly messing up the cannula in the process. "I am making sense."
No, he was not making sense. Nothing about this made any semblance of sense, and all Kiku could feel was a strange sense of impending doom. Then, he actually took a moment to really look at Heracles- this time forgoing the metaphorical rose-tinted glasses he usually saw him through. The longer he looked, the more one small, nearly unnoticeable detail became prevalent. Kiku slowly picked up his hand, examined his skin, and felt his stomach tighten. He could not deny that faint shade of yellow. All he could do was whisper, "Oh, no."
"Huh?" Again, Heracles seemed to have not heard him at all. He barely appeared to register that they were touching. But as if someone had flipped a switch, Heracles snapped into an upright position. "I-" But before he could say another word, he leaned over the side of the bed and vomited into the trash bin. Kiku sat motionless, shocked and terrified, until Heracles finally managed to say something that made sense. "Please look away." His voice wavered, and he threw up again almost instantly.
Kiku obeyed. He looked at the floor, sympathy and helplessness cutting into him like glass, both emotions now painfully familiar. He could only try to ignore the retching sounds coming from beside him- but he failed. Kiku had grown quite used to failing over the past few months. To think he had been so afraid of it before, even if it was the smallest thing. There were more important things to worry about these days- things that could just as easily improve his world as they could destroy it. And that thing- or rather, person- currently needed Kiku to remain strong.
Once the noises finally ceased, Kiku stood, rushed to dampen a cloth and then returned to the bed. "Oh, Heracles." He pushed the hair from his eyes and gently wiped his mouth. Heracles would not look at him. "It's alright. Everything is fine." Liar.
"I'm sorry." Heracles closed his eyes and tightened his hands into fists. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Kiku, I'm so confused, everything hurts, I just… I'm sorry…"
"Calm down, Heracles. There is no reason to be sorry." While Kiku said it as calmly as he could, it took a great effort to not apologize himself. He knew if he started he would not stop for about three eternities. No matter if it was warranted or not, he was so, so sorry. He was sorry that he could not fix this. He was sorry that he could never find quite the right words to say. More than anything, Kiku was sorry that he could not trade places with Heracles. If he could, he would without a second thought.
Heracles took a series of long breaths, his face pinched and his eyes foggy. "Something is wrong," he said finally. "Something is wrong, Kiku."
"I know." Kiku would have to be blind not to see that. A small part of him wished he was. He sighed and closed his eyes, another desperate attempt to keep himself in check. "You will dehydrate. We need to get you an IV."
Kiku stood up, intending to leave the room to get the supplies he needed, only to be stopped by Heracles's quiet, distorted voice. "Kiku?"
"Yes?"
"Please come back soon."
Kiku did not turn around. He couldn't. He did not want to see his expression. "Okay."
Heracles's request did not go unheard. Kiku was able to make his way through the hallway, gather the necessary equipment and make his way back to the room in what was possibly record time. But no matter how fast he managed to do it, it felt as if he was simply going through the motions. For the sake of his own sanity, he could not afford to think about it too much. Emotion showed through momentarily only when he was about to put the needle in. "Ready?"
"Yes." Despite his response, Heracles visibly tensed before looking away.
"It will just be a pinch." Kiku hesitated momentarily, reminded himself for the umpteenth time to be professional about this no matter how personal this had become, and finally pushed the needle into the crook of Heracles's arm. Heracles winced, and Kiku could not help but to allow a pang of guilt to slip through. He had such young, smooth skin. It was such a shame to pierce it…stop. "That was not so bad, was it?"
"If only the needle was the most unpleasant part of this…" Heracles broke off abruptly. "No, it was not."
Kiku pressed the bandage over the needle with far more concentration than what was necessary, tracing a finger over it absent-mindedly. "Can I do anything?" The question was intentionally vague, open-ended. He wanted to do something. Anything.
Heracles leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. "Just stay until I fall asleep," he said. Kiku nodded, just barely able to control the screaming in his head that told him he was not doing enough. Heracles lied down, rested his head in Kiku's lap and closed his eyes. Before he drifted off, he said quietly, "I love you, Kiku."
Kiku swallowed hard, resting a tentative hand in his hair. "I love you too." He never thought saying such a thing would feel so natural, mean so much. It was amazing how quickly things could change, become better, fall apart… stop.
When Kiku left a few minutes later, his blinking was too rapid and his throat felt too thick. No matter what, he refused to allow the tears forming in his eyes to spill over. He refused to acknowledge their existence, refused to acknowledge the urge to cry, because dammit, Heracles needed him to be strong. Even if there was nothing else Kiku could do, even if he could not make this any better, he could do that much. He had to.
.
Kiku could not say he didn't already know. All the signs were there, and with any other patient, he would have come to the conclusion immediately. But now that Ludwig was in front of saying exactly what he had unconsciously expected, the words might as well have been in a foreign language. He repeated them again in an attempt to make sense of them. "His kidneys are failing."
Ludwig nodded. "Yes. We will have to run tests to make that conclusion definite, but that is what looks to be happening."
Kiku bit down on his cheek for the sole purpose of having something else to focus on. "Oh." He tried not to think, to feel. For once, it was working.
"His body is shutting down, Kiku." Ludwig suddenly sounded as if he was having a personal conversation rather than a professional one. "There is nothing we can do."
These words were too familiar. "Yes, I know." How could Kiku not know that? It was painfully, horribly, world-endingly apparent. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing, nothing, nothing…
"Have you considered speaking with Dr. Williams?"
For a moment, Kiku wondered if he had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had missed a chunk of the conversation. The question seemed so out of place. "No, sir, I have not. Why would I?"
"He specializes in grief counseling." Ludwig pushed his hair back and glanced at Kiku, his expression somewhere between faint concern and outright pity. "I thought it might be helpful to you. I would definitely recommend it after-"
"I am fine," said Kiku, interrupting. No, he did not need to hear this. They still had time. "Thank you, though."
"Kiku," Ludwig dropped his folded arms, "are you sure?"
If there was one thing Kiku did not wish to receive in that moment, it was pity. Pity implied things were worse than they actually were. "I am sure." He came across an opportunity to push the focus off of himself and took it immediately. "Speaking of which, how is Feliciano?"
A flash of pain washed over Ludwig's face for a moment so brief Kiku almost thought he had imagined it. "I cannot say he is well," he said. "He has gone against everyone's suggestions and decided to be his grandfather's nurse. He simply will not allow anyone else to take the job."
"That sounds…problematic." Kiku could think of nothing else to say. Feliciano could barely keep his feelings in check when he was dealing with patients he had no connection to before hand. He could only imagine what he would be like treating the man who had raised him…the thought was so painful that Kiku could not even bring himself to picture it.
"It is." Ludwig shook his head, pushed his hair back for the second time that conversation, and exhaled loudly as if he had been holding his breath. "But we cannot stop him. It would be cruel."
Before Kiku could think of a word to say in response, Matthew entered the room. Strange. He didn't even work in this branch. "Dr. Beilschmidt, I need to see you."
Ludwig's face seemed to go white the moment he saw him. He stayed silent for a moment, only speaking after he cleared his throat. "Is that so?" He sounded casual enough, but the look in his eyes told a different story. "Did something happen?"
"Well…" Matthew glanced at Kiku and offered a weak smile and a wave. Kiku waved back, but still felt as though he was in the middle of a conversation he should not be listening to. This suspicion was only proven to be correct when Matthew said, "How about we take a quick walk, Dr. Beilschmidt?"
Still with a neutral expression, Ludwig nodded and exited the room, leaving Kiku alone with nothing but his racing thoughts.
.
When Kiku started his computer later that evening, the first thing he felt was an odd sense of déjà-vu. He pondered the cause for only a moment before he realized his intentions were identical to what they had been months ago. The first day he met Heracles, he had gotten online and researched his condition until he couldn't take it any longer. Now that the situation had only grown more personal, more heartbreaking, somehow gotten more severe…he was doing it again. It was almost a compulsion.
But this time, it was different. This time, Kiku did not search for symptoms or descriptions of pain or personal accounts of grief. Instead, he searched for a cure, for miracles, for sparks of light when there was nothing but darkness around him. He searched for something fair. His heart lifted and fell with the words on the screen, but he could do nothing if not hope. Heracles was like the morning after an eternity of night. If Kiku had never met him, he would have never realized how beautiful the world was, the world that lied beyond work and reason. He likely would have never known love. Kiku was not ready to go back to the darkness, to the monotony and the mediocrity. He was sure he never would be.
And that was how the rest of September was spent, as well as October. It was spent with Heracles trying to hide his pain but failing more and more often, growing more incoherent, his energy declining. But there were good days, days when he could talk and smile and even laugh. Kiku clung to the good days. He clung to them like the air when he was drowning, no matter how much shorter and farther apart they were becoming. For the sake of remaining strong, that was all he could do.
Through it all, a small, insane, unreasonable part of Kiku refused to let go of a ridiculous idea: Maybe Heracles would get better. Maybe there would be a miracle. Maybe Heracles would be saved like a character in a Greek play, swept out of a seemingly hopeless situation by the Gods in a Deus Ex Machina ending. Maybe then, something in the world would be just. Even though Heracles told him again and again they would meet in another life, Kiku desperately wanted him in this one. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.
.
Kiku barely noticed the warm weather dissolving into cold, barely even felt the fall setting in. Halloween came along before Kiku even realized it. For reasons that were beyond him, it was asked of him to wear some type of costume. Kiku found it ridiculous. His patients would never take him seriously. But his urge to obey won out, and he ended up purchasing a set of cat ears. He would be lying if he said Heracles was not on his mind when he made that decision.
When Kiku arrived at work, the first thing he saw was Feliciano bent over Ludwig, who was sitting in a chair with a frustrated grimace. Feliciano's clothes were ripped severely in a way that looked intentional, and Kiku quickly figured out that he was supposed to be some type of zombie. He seemed engrossed in whatever he was painting on Ludwig's face, but he broke away when he noticed Kiku's entrance. "Happy Halloween, Kiku! Oh, you're a cat, that's cool. I'm a zombie, and Ludwig is Frankenstein!"
Feliciano stepped to the side, and Kiku was finally able to see Ludwig. He had a set of stiches painted on his face, coupled with the small bolts sticking out from either side of his head. His less-than-amused expression was nothing if not fitting. "Technically, he is Frankenstein's monster."
"Whatever I am, I look ridiculous." Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Feliciano, I have patients to go to. How are they going to take me seriously dressed like this?"
Feliciano giggled and slapped his shoulder playfully. "Don't be such a grump, Ludwig! It's Halloween! What kind of loser doesn't dress up on Halloween?"
"Doctors."
"That isn't true, and you know it. Dr. Héderváry dressed up as a witch!"
"Yes, well, Elizabeta is Elizabeta."
Feliciano rolled his eyes, though his smile was still in place. "You have no holiday spirit, like, at all. It's just sad, Ludwig. So, so sad." He shook his head and clicked his tongue as if to scold him.
Ludwig continued to look annoyed, but Kiku swore a faint smile passed over his lips for the briefest moment. "Fine, I'll wear the silly costume, alright?"
"Yay, Ludwig! I knew you weren't hopeless!" Feliciano threw his arms around Ludwig, who rolled his eyes and patted his shoulder until he let go. "It would be really cool if you actually acted like Frankenstein-"
"And that is where I draw the line." Ludwig stood up, adjusted the headband the bolts were stuck to, and turned towards Kiku. "Anyway, how are you doing, Kiku? Is everything alright?"
Kiku's momentary amusement vanished. He knew full well that Ludwig's question had nothing to do with work, and he had known that ever since he started asking the same question far more frequently than normal. He knew he should be grateful that Ludwig was concerned about him, but at the same time, he wasn't. It threatened the small amount of hope he was able to cling to, no matter how misguided it was. Kiku noted that his thoughts were running away again and reined them in. "I am fine." In that very moment, he was fine. He had to be.
Ludwig furrowed his brow, but nodded anyway. "Alright. Well, I have a patient to go to. Happy Halloween."
Kiku hoped it would be happy. These days, that only meant one thing- he hoped Heracles would be having one of his better days. He had a short conversation with Feliciano that he did not remember or really even hear, collected his things, and made his way down the hall on unsteady legs. When he opened the door, and Heracles looked up, and he smiled, Kiku felt a wave of relief so strong it was dizzying. For once, hope had become reality. "Happy Halloween, Heracles." Happy indeed.
"You dressed up." Heracles beckoned for Kiku to come in and sit down, and Kiku did exactly that. He did not flinch when Heracles pressed his face against his shoulder; he was not even surprised. Kiku had become accustomed to how touchy he could be, and a small part of him had even grown to appreciate it. "You dressed up like a kitty."
Kiku smiled to himself, out of Heracles's sight. Yes, he was having a good day. He did not seem confused, or in pain, or exhausted…no more than he usually was, at least. It was manageable, it was baseline, and it was all Kiku could realistically hope for. "I feel a bit silly."
"You are Kiku, and you are dressed as a cat. Those are the two things I love the most. How could you possibly look silly?" He said it so casually, without sarcasm or even humor. This nonchalance was what always told Kiku he was sincere. Heracles slung his arms around Kiku's neck just as absently in what was almost a hug. "You look just fine."
Kiku believed him. He always did. "Thank you."
"I wish I could take a picture."
Once the statement registered, Kiku realized that he could. Since his day off that felt a million years away, he had started to carry his camera with the rest of his belongings. He hesitated, wondering if he wanted to be photographed looking like this, but shrugged off the reluctance. When Heracles went back to lying down, Kiku retrieved the camera from his bag and handed it to him. "You can, if you would like."
Heracles smiled fainting as he took it into his hands. "I'm glad you have been using this again," he said. He flipped it over, looking at it from all angles. "I can't say I have a clue how to use it."
"It is not that hard. Simply hold it like this…" Kiku adjusted Heracles's hold on the camera, and then pointed to one of the buttons. "And press this when you want to take-" Only he did not finish because Heracles pressed the button immediately, setting off the flash and blinding both of them.
"Sorry."
Kiku rubbed the stars from his eyes and shook his head. "I will just delete that one."
Heracles held up the camera without another word. Kiku sat motionless, feeling awkward, unsure if he should smile or not. But he was not given much time to worry about the details, because Heracles took the picture before he could. When the flash faded, he pulled the camera from his eye, looked at the screen and ran his finger over it as if he could actually touch the image. "Cute," he said, seemingly to himself. "Take a look, Kiku."
With some reluctance, Kiku leaned over and looked at the screen. He supposed it was not too bad of a picture. He was not exactly smiling, but it seemed as though the longer he stared at it, the more it looked like he was. Then he looked away, glanced at Heracles, and had a sudden idea. "Can I take one of you?"
Heracles lowered the camera and looked up. He quickly looked away, adjusted the cannula, and for a moment, he almost looked confused. Kiku was almost just as confused until he said, "You want a picture when I look like this?"
Oh. Kiku kept forgetting Heracles could withdrawal into himself so easily, lose his confidence in a flash, grow sad without warning… and it was heartbreaking. It was unacceptable. At a loss for what else to do, Kiku removed the cat ears headband and placed it on Heracles's head. He looked up again, confused, and Kiku said, "Actually, I would like a picture. You look very cute."
And his smile was back. Kiku felt light enough to fly. "I have always wanted to be a cat."
How endearing. Kiku took the camera from him, focused it, but stopped when Heracles suddenly shook his head. "Wait." Then, he reached behind his ears and removed the cannula. Kiku must have looked apprehensive, because he said, "It will only be for a second."
Kiku nodded, lifted the camera again, and took the picture. Heracles had lifted a closed fist to imitate a cat paw, a ghost of a smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. Despite the circles under his eyes, the discoloration of his skin and the gauntness in his face that had slowly become more apparent in the past two months, Kiku was sure this picture was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He knew he would treasure it for the rest of his life.
In that moment, he realized: No matter what happened, no matter if Heracles never got the miracle he deserved, no matter if he passed tomorrow or three months from now or in ten years, Kiku would love him forever.
To be continued...
