Distract My Brain from the Terrible News
Armin POV
It was about 15 minutes after dinner that Armin noticed all of the adults had disappeared. That was suspicious to him, because it usually meant he was being talked about. People often didn't think he could handle serious conversations and treated him with kid gloves. He didn't find that particularly fair, since he was the one who was dying, after all. He excused himself from the group in the living room, and slipped into the kitchen, where he could hear hushed voices from the back porch.
"Klara, Ed, you know you can tell us anything, right?" Mrs. Jaeger said in a leading sort of way.
Armin leaned against the wall next to the open door and listened. "Yeah, I know." Mom answered quietly.
"We want to help." Mr. Ackerman said. "But we can't if you won't tell us how."
He heard his mother sigh. "I don't-"
"How sick is he?" Mrs. Ackerman asked, in her typical blunt fashion. "We can see him getting worse and worse."
Armin's heart broke when he heard Mom sniffle. "It's…it's bad." She sucked in a sharp breath. "His uh…well, maybe I should start at the beginning-"
"He's in stage four renal failure." Dad cut in curtly.
"Oh, God!" Mrs. Jaeger gasped.
"Maybe you should start from the beginning." Mrs. Ackerman said softly.
"We thought he just kept getting sick!" Mom said tearfully. "You know how he was as a kid. Always had a cold, or the flu, or strep throat. That's what we thought it was. Sinus infections, fevers, lingering coughs. Then, he started dropping weight. Coughing up blood." Mom paused and sniffled, and Armin could practically hear Dad wrap an arm around her. He knew them so well.
"The doctor called it Granulomatosis with polyangiitis." Dad continued. "Or Wegener's. It's inflammation of blood vessels in certain parts of the body. If left untreated, it can affect the uh…"
"Kidneys." Dr. Jaeger finished for him.
"We didn't catch it in time." Mom sounded distraught. "If I had had any inkling that this could have-of course I would have-"
"Klara, we know." Mrs. Jaeger said. "You don't have to explain yourself."
"It's not your fault." Mrs. Ackerman said. "Like you said, he was always sick with something. There's no way you could have known."
"I'm his mother. I should have known!" Armin hated that his mother blamed herself. It wasn't her fault. It was the stupid disease's fault that he was dying.
"It progressed into chronic kidney disease." Dad continued. "He's just been declining ever since. He often needs a wheelchair now. It's why we moved…that and for her father."
"Of course." Mr. Ackerman said softly. Armin could tell it was all starting to come together for them. Things were starting to make sense now.
"Armin doesn't want the other kids to know. Not yet." Mom said. "But of course, we will have to tell them eventually. I don't think he ever will." Well, she was probably right about that.
"We think dialysis is next." Dad said. "Then, it's uh…the transplant list."
"But there's complications with each of these steps and sometimes it's just so hard knowing that…whatever we do…we could lose him. My baby might be dying." Mom finally broke down completely.
"Oh, Klara." Mrs. Jaeger soothed. "I'm so sorry you've had to do this alone."
"But you're not alone now. You have us." Mrs. Ackerman chimed in.
Armin felt a piece of his life crumble away. He had never heard his mother even acknowledge that Armin could be dying. She had always been stalwartly positive, to the point of annoyance at times. But he realized that he had needed it, because to hear her accept the possibility of defeat hurt him deeply, and he couldn't explain why. He could feel his breathing increase, and he felt like crying.
He was pulled from his downward spiral by Sasha's voice. "Armin? Are you alright?"
"What? I'm fine." He crossed the room to stand next to her. "Did they finally pick a movie?"
Sasha surprised him again by reaching out and hugging him. "You're my best friend."
He didn't know how to react to that. "I-"
"Now come on. I think Mikasa won the argument." She grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the living room.
Armin waited until they had dropped off Sasha before he broached the subject. "Mom?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"What are you going to do if I die?" Dad had just shut off the car and the silence that followed was deafening.
"Armin-" Mom started.
"I heard you tonight. I know you've considered it. I think it's something we should discuss. Living in denial doesn't help anyone."
"Armin, please." Mom sounded upset.
"I want to talk about it." Armin continued to argue.
"No, Ar-"
"He's not a little kid anymore, Klara." Dad cut in. Both Armin and Mom were taken aback. Dad never interrupted them while they were arguing. "It's his life and he has a right to talk about it. If you don't want to hear it, that's fine. He can come to me." Mom sighed, but didn't say anything. Dad turned his attention on Armin. "But not tonight. Take some time, calm your mind, collect your thoughts. We can discuss this tomorrow."
Armin sighed, backing down in the face of his father's cool logic. "Okay, but I'm holding you to that. We'll talk about it tomorrow."
"It's a deal." Dad said.
Armin nodded. He opened his door and was about to get out when he paused. "Thank you for letting me stay tonight. It meant a lot to me."
He heard Mom sniffle. "Of course, baby." She sounded like she was fighting tears.
He climbed out of the car and opened her car door. "Don't cry, Mom. Please don't cry."
She stood up and wrapped him in a tight hug. "I love you more than anything."
Armin felt tears spring into his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I always snap at you." He clung to his mother.
"Oh, baby." She hugged him tighter, then pulled back, gripping his arms. "You have every right to be angry. I know you're not angry at me."
"Let's go inside." Dad said, getting out of the car.
"Come on." Mom wrapped an arm around him and led him inside. Dad followed and pulled out a chair at the table.
"Sit down, Armin."
Armin did as he was told. He had no idea what his parents wanted to talk about. "What's going on? I thought we were talking tomorrow…"
"We want to talk about something else." Dad said, sitting down across from him.
"We had planned on it being another time, but the timing is too right." Mom said, sitting down around the corner of the table from him.
"What is it?" Armin asked.
"Well, your dad and I have been talking, and-"
"Are you two getting divorced?"
"What?" Mom asked, taken aback.
"No." Dad said flatly.
"Why would you think that?" Mom asked incredulously.
"I don't know." Armin shrugged. "This just seemed like the 'divorce talk', you know. From the tone and everything."
"No, Armin. This is about you." Dad said, trying to get back on topic.
"What did I do?"
"It's not about what you've done. It's about what you should do." Dad answered.
"You're just confusing me more. Why are you being so cryptic?"
"We think you should see a therapist." Mom said softly.
"What? Why?" Armin's eyes widened.
"Seeing a counselor isn't a bad thing." Mom continued.
"I'm not crazy."
"We don't think you're crazy." Dad said.
"Then why-"
"Because, you have a lot of anger inside you, Armin. And I'm not saying that you shouldn't be angry. But you're not coping, and we're worried about you." Mom covered his hand with her's.
"We just want you to talk to someone. Maybe they can help you get some better coping mechanisms." Dad said.
"I don't need a counselor." Armin said, crossing his arms.
"Dr. Lyon thinks you do." Mom replied.
"Since when do you listen to the doctors?" Armin snapped back. He realized he was being nasty again, but he didn't know how to stop it.
"Since I started seeing a therapist." Mom answered.
Armin's jaw dropped open. "Since when?"
"Two months ago."
"Wow…" Armin shook his head. "Everyone's full of secrets they're keeping from me."
Mom's face looked hurt. "Armin-"
"I don't need a counselor." He repeated more forcefully, standing up.
"Where are you going?" Dad asked.
"To bed. I have school tomorrow." He stalked out of the room and into his bedroom, where he slammed the door. He flopped down on his bed with a huff. "I can't believe them." He muttered. "I don't need a counselor." But deep down, he wondered if he did.
