Standard disclaimers apply, and mucho thanks once again to crazybeef, my
lovely beta reader.
Chapter 4
Seth lay quietly in the dark, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. He was crying soundlessly; there was no way he could let his mom see how scared he was. He needed her to think he was sleeping, needed her to think that he couldn't hear her crying, which he could. He knew that he was usually the spineless, wimpy one in dire situations, but he suddenly felt the incredible need to protect all of those who loved them from his pain. Who knew how bad this was hitting everyone else? He was totally disrupting the natural routine everyone had settled into, and he really didn't want to make everyone's life wretched and miserable. Seth couldn't shake the feeling that everything was his fault, that he'd just demolished the happy family of four they'd worked hard to build since Ryan showed up in Newport. God, he couldn't stop his mind from racing...
He almost laughed out loud. The one time he couldn't fall right to sleep...
It was just so damn crazy. He had leukemia. Cancer. It was unheard of. There were no diseases in Newport Beach, and Seth never thought there could be. Everything was shiny and perfect. When his grandmother had died of ovarian cancer that had been a fluke, a one-time deal. The supervisor who let that one slip by was fired. There could be no disease in such a happy shiny place with such happy shiny people.
He should've figured out that he was sick sooner. Things added up. He was tired all the time, he had noticed that he'd dropped a few pounds, his arms and legs hurt sometimes, and he got stomach cramps almost daily. Maybe if he'd told his dad sooner, something could have been done. Or then, maybe not.
Seth shivered, thinking of chemotherapy, spinal taps, and radiation. No hair. He didn't know much beyond that, but what he imagined in the darkness of the hospital room was horrifying. He sniffed. What kind of hellish nightmare would this be? Could he live through it? That was the big one, living. As treatable as it was- and Dr. Pearson had dropped in earlier to assure him that yes indeedy it was- Seth knew he could die. And rotting away in a hospital bed, bald as a cue ball, was not exactly how he'd planned on dying. In the sixth grade he'd had to write a story about his own demise. At the time he hadn't been bothered, but now the whole thing seemed morbid and disgusting. Seth remembered what he wrote though. He'd died saving the world from certain destruction. A heroic death, not a death where everyone looked at you with pity in their eyes and watched you slowly decompose.
God, it sucked.
Seth was startled when he felt a gentle touch on his forehead. He bit his tongue to prevent from calling out to his mother as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. He wanted her to hug him and make it better. But he couldn't let her see how scared he was. He didn't want her to worry. He didn't want any of them to worry.
He felt Kirsten kiss his forehead gently, and he closed his eyes, reveling in her comfort. He was glad that he she was there with him, glad that he wasn't completely alone, no matter how alone it felt with all of his thoughts ping ponging around his brain.
"Love you, baby," Kirsten whispered tenderly, obviously thinking Seth was asleep.
Seth waited until he was sure that his mother had sat back down in her chair before he whispered, so quietly that she couldn't hear it, "Love you too."
.
Kirsten closed her eyes, trying to sleep. She couldn't do it, couldn't stop thinking about everything that could happen. It was hard to be optimistic when the world was falling all around you.
It was all just hard to handle right then. Maybe a month from then, she'd be used to the idea of her son having leukemia, but right then she couldn't even try to wrap her mind around it. One day he was her goofy son, cracking them up at dinner when he was making his chicken legs dance, the next day he had cancer. Why him? What had he done wrong? He was such a sweet boy; he didn't deserve it.
Kirsten exhaled loudly. She shifted in her chair, trying to find an even remotely comfortable position. She sighed and reached out to grab a tissue from the box on the night stand. Her arm hit a glass vase, knocking it off the table. There was a loud crash, and she winced.
"Shit," she muttered softly. She crossed the room carefully, groping across the wall searching for a light switch. Her fingers finding it, she flipped the switch.
The room filled with light, and Kirsten got a good look at the damage. She groaned. Tiny shards of glass were scattered across the ground in a large pool of water. Limp yellow flowers lay among the mess. She approached the destruction wearily. Her eyes traveled up instinctively to check up on Seth.
"Seth?" She said quietly, seeing he was awake. Though his eyes were closed, she could see the tears sailing down his bright red cheeks and the slight trembling in his jaw. "Seth, sweetheart, I know you're awake." She paused. "Talk to me, please."
Seth opened his eyes. He gave Kirsten a tiny smile. "Hey, Mom," he croaked. "How's it hangin'?"
Kirsten snickered, perching herself on the edge of Seth's bed. She wiped a tear from his cheek with her thumb.
"You want to talk about this?" She asked quietly. "I'm awake, you're awake..."
"There's glass all over the floor.." Seth trailed off. "It's like right out of 'Family Ties,' Mom."
"Seriously, Seth. I asked at dinner, you said no, you were fine."
"I was trying to figure out why the gravy on the mashed potatoes was bright yellow," Seth replied.
"God, Seth, stop. You don't have to hide the fact that you're scared. We can talk about this; make it a little less scary for all of us." Kirsten squeezed his hand lovingly.
"I don't want to talk about it," Seth answered, sniffling slightly. He wiped his face with his hand, sniffing. "Well, maybe kind of."
"I'm here to listen," Kirsten said softly.
Seth snickered. "I was hoping you'd have something brilliant to say. I'm fresh out of witty banter right now."
"Are you scared?" Kirsten asked quietly, running her fingers through his hair.
Seth nodded, his face scrunching up, more tears slipping down his cheeks.
Kirsten rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "Shhh...shhhhhh....it's okay to be scared," she told him quietly. She kissed the top of his head softly.
"I just wish I could know what's gonna happen," Seth admitted in a hushed voice. His face was a clear expression of all the emotion he'd worked so hard to hide earlier that night: anger, embarrassment, fear, and uncertainty. Kirsten wanted to hold him in her arms until they could find a cure for his disease.
"We all do," Kirsten replied. "But, hey, for once are you happy that we're rich, Newport Beach snobs? We can afford all this, no problem." She tried to laugh a little as she brushed a tear off of her own cheek.
Seth snickered. "How'd you and Dad ever manage to be humble with that assload of money? I mean, you have way more money than Julie Cooper ever did, and you're not even half as conceited as she is."
Kirsten gave her son a gentle smile. "I appreciate that, son."
"Do you think things'll be okay?" Seth asked, sitting up slightly. He swallowed. He didn't want Kirsten to know that he was worried, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know.
"I don't know what to think," Kirsten admitted, "but I know you, Seth. You're a strong kid. You can beat this." She bit her lip, feeling as if she'd said the exact wrong thing at that moment, though what the right thing to say was, she'd never know.
"I hope so," Seth replied weakly. "I don't exactly feel strong right now, with this goddamned bedpan, and the cretin hospital gown, the wheelchair in the closet. I feel like everyone's either gonna pity me or be afraid of me." His voice dropped considerably. "Not sure which one is worse."
"All that matters is us," Kirsten said firmly. "And we'll treat you exactly as you want us to treat you, no matter what. But we won't turn off our concern for you, sweetie. Things are going to change, and we all have to accept that."
Seth nodded. "How much do you know about leuk...my uh...my problem?" Saying the word was impossible, he discovered.
"Not a lot," Kirsten admitted. "Dr. Pearson would probably better for fielding these kinds of questions."
"Please. You just have a crush on him," Seth snickered. "Him and his crazy British accent. You just want to keep him talking so he can say something British, like schedule or something."
Kirsten smiled. She had actually been more focused on Seth than what his doctor looked like, though she had to admit that when he'd brought her a second pillow that night, she'd noticed how cute he was. Nothing compared to Sandy, of course, but cute.
"He's no match for your father in the looks department," Kirsten teased, ruffling Seth's hair.
"I guess massive eyebrows are a turn-on for you," Seth said, a quiet smile dancing across his lips.
Kirsten giggled. She kissed Seth's forehead again. "You have your father's sense of humor."
Seth clutched his heart in mock pain. "Why must you wound me with your words?" He moaned.
"Your dad is a very funny man," Kirsten insisted.
"Hah! That's like saying you're a great chef," Seth laughed.
"Hey!" Kirsten tried to look mad, but she couldn't hold back a slight giggle. She smiled. "You really are a lot like your dad. He used to look just like you, and talk like you. Always telling crazy stories, making everyone laugh. And he loved to make people laugh. It helped him cover up all of his pain and insecurities." She paused. "Just like you."
Seth nodded slowly. He knew bits and pieces of his father's past. He knew that he'd been abused by his mother's boyfriends as a kid, in every sick way possible, and that he'd been homeless on and off, running away and living in an alley behind a local Wendy's. There'd been pain in his life. He hated to think he'd be adding to it.
"And baby, I know you want to keep up a brave front for everyone else, but you don't have to around me, and you don't have to around your father. Or Ryan even. Maybe when you're around the kids at school, or other people you're not too close to you have to be the clown; they might not be the best people to spill your guts to, but we're your family, and you can tell us anything." Kirsten gave Seth a hopeful look, praying that he'd respond to her well. She squeezed his hand gently.
"Okay." Seth nodded. "Yeah, that's good. I'll try to come to you or dad or Ryan if I really need to talk."
Kirsten smiled. "I'm glad." She cleared her throat. "Now get to sleep," she ordered. "Tomorrow's gonna be a long day. You need your rest." She kissed his cheek lovingly, and patted his shoulder.
"Yes, ma'am," Seth said, saluting weakly.
"I'll clean up here," she said, gesturing to the mess on the floor. She grabbed Captain Oats off of the bedside table, and handed him to Seth, who smirked, and accepted it. "Where'd you ever get him?" Kirsten asked, wrinkling her brow. "I don't remember your father or me buying it for you."
"Grandma bought it for me when I was like, five years old," Seth answered, tracing his fingers along the horse's back. His grandmother had given him Captain Oats for his fifth birthday, right around the time when she'd gotten really sick. That had been back at the old house, with the porch swing and the faint smell of mold, the house that had reached almost mythical status in the minds of both Sandy and Seth.
Kirsten nodded knowingly. "Goodnight, Seth. I love you."
"Night, Mom." Seth closed his eyes, sniffed, and swiped the rest of the tears from his cheeks. "Love you."
A few minutes later, after the water and glass had been wiped up and thrown out, Kirsten looked up at Seth, and a smile found her face. His chest was rising and falling in an even, steady rhythm. He was asleep, or faking it well.
She reached over and flicked off the light.
Ryan pulled open the door of the house. He couldn't sleep, and even the expansive pool house was so small and stuffy that he could hardly breathe in there. One thing was certain; he couldn't sleep. Seth was his brother and his best friend, and everything Trey could never be. Ryan didn't even want to think about what Newport would be like without Seth.
God, he needed a smoke. Too bad he'd thrown all of his cigarettes out, after Kirsten practically forced him to quit. It wasn't that he'd had some kind of sick, chain-smoking habit. He'd only had the occasional smoke when he was under an extreme amount of stress, or after a fight. Now he was craving a cigarette so badly his whole body itched.
Ryan padded softly into the kitchen, looking for some kind of cigarette substitute. He froze when he saw Sandy digging through the fridge. He wasn't expecting company. He liked Sandy a great deal, but he really didn't want to talk about what was going on. He didn't want to end up crying in front of him, or saying something that would make Sandy even more upset than he already was. If he had, he would've taken Sandy's offer and occupied the other guest room, the one Caleb wasn't staying in.
Sandy turned, a container of ice cream in his hand, and spotted Ryan. Ryan studied his face intently. He looked like he'd been crying for a good long time, and his face was lined and worn. He'd never been able to figure out how old Sandy was until Seth told him one day. Sandy Cohen was the kind of lively, youthful man with just the right amount of mischievousness and amused grins to make him appear to be younger than he really was. Right then, however, Sandy looked old and beaten down, his normally spry and upright body hunched over, his eyes dead and bloodshot.
"Hey, Ryan," he greeted him softly. He held up the ice cream. "Want some?" he offered, pulling open a drawer and grabbing two spoons. He attempted a smile that seemed to leave before it even had a chance to make an impact on his features.
Ryan really didn't feel like having any. "Okay," he agreed quietly, shrugging.
Sandy got two bowls from the cabinet above the stove and started scooping and serving.
"Sit down," he ordered, gesturing to one of the counter chairs. "Chunky monkey, Seth's favorite."
Ryan grunted in response. He looked up at Sandy, who was totally focused on the task at hand, probably trying not to think of Seth, lying in the hospital....
"How you doing?" Ryan asked quietly.
"I'm all right, kid," Sandy replied sadly. He sighed. "It's hard, is all. Wish there was something I could do. You become a father and you automatically think you can fix every problem in your kid's life. Nothing that can't be healed with milk, cookies, and paternal preaching." He paused, sniffed, and looked off into the distance briefly. "I was damn good at making all the boogeymen go away." He shook his head vigorously. "This now..not something I can fix so easily."
"I wish there was something I could do too," Ryan answered in a tiny voice.
"My body hasn't stopped shaking since they gave me the news," Sandy admitted with a frown. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't be telling you this."
"It's okay," Ryan answered with a shrug. "I don't talk much..I can listen."
"Well Ryan, I did want to talk to you about this," Sandy said, sliding a bowl and spoon over to him. He replaced the ice cream in the fridge and sat down beside Ryan. "I tried to talk to you when we got home, but you disappeared on me."
"Sorry..I didn't really know what to say," Ryan admitted, scratching the back of his neck wearily.
"It's fine," Sandy affirmed quickly, mashing up the ice cream with his spoon. "I just figured it would be good if we discussed this. I know how you are; you won't talk about how you're feeling unless someone forces you to. And even then, not always." He paused. "I know you and Seth are very close."
"My brother."
Sandy smiled warmly at the younger boy. "And I know that all of this is going to change things..for all of us. I figure you need someone to talk to about all this. You're not going to want to upset Kirsten or Seth, you're uh, not with Marissa anymore..but me..you can talk to me. I promise." He caught the look on Ryan's face. "Ah, so you don't want to upset me either."
Ryan nodded, looking guilty. He straightened up a bit, remembering something. "But, you need someone to talk to too. I know you're really upset about it."
Sandy shrugged. Now it was his turn to look guilty. "But I'm your father. I'm not allowed to be upset."
"You are my father," Ryan agreed, that all too familiar warmth spreading across his chest again. "And you are allowed to be upset."
"I guess whether I'm allowed to be or not, I'm gonna be," Sandy replied, shaking his head ruefully. "But I want you to come talk to me if you have questions, or if you're upset. Look, I'm barely hanging on right now, but it's not going to help me any if you go around trying to be a big man, while you're torn up inside. So talk to me if you need to. Okay?"
Ryan nodded. "That would be good, I think," he said softly. "Thank you." He sniffled. "Right now though, I think I'll try and get some sleep."
Sandy nodded. "I think that would be best for both of us. We should be getting to the hospital early tomorrow morning. I'll let you miss school, but just for tomorrow. Don't want you to fall behind."
Ryan nodded, and the two ate their ice cream in silence. Ryan's eyes flicked over to Sandy, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. Sandy's body was trembling violently. Ryan didn't know what to say or do, and he definitely didn't want to know what it felt like to be in Sandy's shoes, how painful it had to be, how powerless he must've felt. It was hard enough for Ryan, and he'd known Seth Cohen for less than a year.
"You gonna be okay?" Ryan asked quietly.
Sandy gave a weak smile. "Stop worrying about me kid; I'll be fine." He cleared his throat. "Let me take your bowl." He grabbed Ryan's empty bowl and dumped both bowls in the sink. He gave Ryan a sad look. "If you want, that guest bedroom is still open for you. I made up the bed and everything." His eyes seemed to plead with him, telling Ryan that Sandy wanted him closer, as if by keeping him in the main house he could keep him safe, like he wasn't able to do for Seth.
Ryan considered it for a moment, and then nodded. "Thanks. I really..I really appreciate that." He rose from his chair.
For a brief moment the man and the boy faced each other, each worried about the other, mutually worried about Seth. Sandy took a step toward Ryan and wrapped his arms around him in a fatherly hug.
Ryan returned the hug weakly. He wasn't used to physical affection, but he had to admit that it felt good at the moment. Sandy was his father, there was no doubt about that anymore.
"Goodnight, Ryan," Sandy said quietly.
"Night Sandy," Ryan replied. He watched Sandy walk up the stairs to his bedroom, and he sighed, making his way toward the other guest bedroom.
Sleep was calling his name, and he intended on answering.
"Eat your breakfast," Kirsten ordered gently, poking Seth's plastic fork into his untouched home fries.
"I'm not hungry," Seth insisted, looking glum. "Besides, I refuse on principle to eat anything that looks like bat guano."
"Seth, honey, please. At least take a few bites, huh?" Kirsten begged wearily.
Seth sighed dramatically. He glanced up at the television mounted to the wall. A Spanish soap opera was playing on mute. His stomach rumbled and twisted. He was hungry, but he wasn't positive he could keep anything down at that point. The prospect of going home, even though it'd just be for about a week, excited him, but he couldn't seem to muster up any enthusiasm at the moment.
He brought a forkful of the liquid-like home fries up to his mouth, inhaled the revolting smell, and gagged. He dropped the fork on his plate and gave a sputtering, choking, cough.
Kirsten snatched the tray away quickly, setting it down on the table. "Sorry, kiddo," she said quietly. She didn't understand how the hospital cafeteria could have pretty decent food, but serve utter crap to their patients.
"I'll eat the Jell-O," Seth offered weakly. "Red, my favorite." He smiled.
Kirsten handed him the tiny container of Jell-O, and rubbed his head affectionately.
"Guess I'll have to get used to the crappy food," Seth said, sighing, resigned. "But that one nurse that came in here this morning was pretty hot."
Kirsten rolled her eyes, but laughed.
"Thanks for staying with me last night," Seth said, slurping up some Jell- O. "You must be exhausted."
"I'm fine," Kirsten replied quietly, thinking about how quickly her boy had grown up.
Seth put his empty Jell-O container on the night stand. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.
"I can't wait to get home," he told his mother. "I've been itching to play X-Box all day." He paused. "I'll just have to tear Dad away from Mario Kart."
Kirsten smirked and shook her head. "Dad, Grandpa, and Ryan will be here soon."
"You talked to them?" Seth asked, sitting up a little straighter.
Kirsten nodded. "You were still asleep. I slipped out and called them from the pay phone. They're bringing you a change of clothes."
Seth nodded, smiling to himself. He couldn't wait to see his father and brother. Now all he needed was Summer, and maybe he could forget about the cancer.
Maybe.
"You have to eat something."
Sandy and Ryan were sitting at the kitchen table, staring at each other.
"I will if you will," Ryan said quietly.
"Not fair. I'm the parent, I get to make the double standards," Sandy replied. "But really, Ryan, you have to eat before we go see Seth."
Ryan sighed. He didn't want to waste any time getting to the hospital, and he was sure that Sandy didn't want to either. In fact, he was certain that Sandy was just trying to be a good father and force him to eat, when his was really itching to leap into the car and speed off to the hospital.
"Look, if I grab a bagel and eat it on the way..is that okay?" Ryan asked, running a hand through his blonde hair.
Sandy nodded emphatically. "Get it, and let's get the hell out of here." He stood up, and grabbed the bag with Seth's clothes is in it.
Caleb was sitting by the door, tapping his fingers, impatiently waiting for them. He raised his eyebrows as they approached.
"About time," he mumbled. He seemed to suddenly remember how he'd vowed to put his disdain for Sandy on hold, and he swallowed. "Let's go," he said in a low voice.
"All..all right then," Sandy said, his voice raspy.
He locked the door behind them, and they set off for the hospital.
Seth shot up in bed as soon as the door opened. His shoulders slumped as he realized it was just Dr. Pearson, who looked annoyingly cheerful, like the kind of adult who tried to laugh and fake happiness in an effort to make everything seem okay. Well Seth wasn't buying it.
"Morning, Seth," Dr. Pearson said cheerfully. "Mrs. Cohen."
"Kirsten," she corrected quickly.
Dr. Pearson nodded. "Yes, Kirsten." He paused. "I understand your husband will be here soon."
Kirsten nodded. She glanced over at Seth, who seemed irked that Dr. Pearson was talking as if he wasn't in the room. She gave him a reassuring smile.
"When he arrives, I'd like to get you all together in the conference room. We can discuss the symptoms, and schedule treatment sessions," Dr. Pearson said.
Kirsten nodded again, unsure of what to say. It was all so overwhelming. She caught Seth's eye. He was scratching his shoulder nervously. He gave her a tiny smile that quickly faded into a frown.
"So, how are you feeling his morning, Seth?" Dr. Pearson asked, finally turning his attention to the patient. He consulted his clip board. "Your temperature's a little high, but your heart rate is normal."
Seth shrugged. "Fine." It was a lie. His arms and legs screamed out in pain, and his head throbbed slightly. And that undying fatigue persisted.
"Good," Dr. Pearson said, nodding slightly. "I'll be in the conference room, when you're ready."
"Thank you," Seth said, almost silently, to Dr. Pearson's retreating figure. He sighed, and looked at his mother. "When's Dad and Ryan getting here?" he asked.
"Soon, honey, soon," Kirsten assured.
Five minutes later, the door opened again. Seth felt a grin spread across his face as Sandy, Ryan, and Caleb entered. Sandy had a tight, phony smile on his face, but to Seth he looked dead. Ryan had a concerned expression on his face. He shifted his weight from side to side, looking uncomfortable. Caleb was his usual blank slate, looking stern and dignified in his business suit.
"Hey, son," Sandy greeted him, striding toward his bed and mussing up his hair affectionately. "How ya feeling?"
"I'm okay, Dad," Seth said, feeling vaguely edgy. Everyone's attention was on him, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
"That's good, that's good." Sandy's chin trembled slightly as he rubbed Seth's back soothingly.
Seth peeked around Sandy, spying Ryan hiding in the corner. "Hey, man. What's up?"
Ryan came around so he was standing next to Sandy. He held out his hand to Seth, who clasped it, smiling.
"How's life at the Cohen abode without me?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
"Not nearly as bizarre," Ryan replied huskily.
"I wouldn't think so." Seth smiled sneakily. "Play any Mario Kart with the Ample Eyebrows over there?" He wanted to talk more with his best friend and brother, but not with everyone else in the room.
Everyone in the room chuckled nervously. Ryan smiled genuinely.
"Ha, ha, ha," Sandy said wryly, but his smile was warm.
"Hey Grandpa, you think you could work a little magic, get me some McDonald's or something?" Seth asked. "All they've been given me here is miscellaneous squirrel parts and red Jell-O."
"I'll see what I can do," Caleb answered quietly. He settled into the corner of the room, not wanting to disturb anyone. He looked around, making a mental note to get Seth a nicer room when he had to check in for the longer haul. It was a private room, but fairly simple. The walls were a depressing gray color, the television was ridiculously small, and the walls were dull and boring. He wouldn't have his only grandson spending his days in something so unsatisfactory. He glanced over at Ryan. He was not ready to accept him as his grandson yet, and he probably would never be, but he didn't mind him as much anymore. He was a quiet kid, unspoiled, tough. Not a big nuisance, and helpful to boot.
Kirsten grabbed Sandy's arm. "Sandy, Dr. Pearson wants us to meet him in the conference room so we can discuss..everything."
Sandy nodded gravely. "Okay." He turned to face Seth. "I brought you a change of clothes." He tossed a plastic bag onto Seth's lap. "Come out when you're ready, and then we'll all go see Dr. Pearson together."
"All of us?" Seth asked, eyes flicking to Ryan and Caleb.
"I don't have to be in there," Ryan said quietly, looking downright queasy. His eyes widened. "Unless you want me to be, man."
"Nah, it's fine," Seth answered quietly. "Grandpa?"
Caleb shook his head. "I think it should just be you and your parents."
Seth nodded solemnly, closing his eyes. "Okay. So this is real." He sighed. "Wow. Well, all right. Let's do it." He ran a shaky hand through his hair.
Sandy squeezed Seth's shoulder gently. "We'll be in the hall," he said quietly. He looked at everyone else, gesturing with his eyes for them to all exit.
Sandy shut the door behind them all, giving Seth one last smile before entering the hallway.
Ryan leaned against the wall, his head tilted upwards, and his eyes closed. He could hardly breathe. He hated seeing Seth in there, when he couldn't help him. He couldn't be the big brother and take all the punches aimed at Seth. This was cancer; one huge punch that Seth had to take head-on, no help.
"You okay Ryan?" Sandy asked softly.
Ryan looked into his eyes and knew he couldn't lie. He shook his head. "I hate hospitals."
"Me too," Sandy replied quietly. "Guess we're gonna have to get used to being here," he added.
"I saw a pretty hot nurse back there," Ryan offered, cracking a smile.
"Well at least it'll be bearable then," Sandy remarked with an amused smirk. He glanced over at Caleb and Kirsten. Caleb had his arms wrapped around her. She wasn't crying, but that could change at any second.
"I'm worried about her," Ryan admitted, seeing where Sandy was looking.
"She's tough as nails," Sandy answered. "She'll be holding me up in awhile. She just needs some time to get used to it." He paused. "Everyone does."
"I'm scared," Ryan said quietly.
Sandy took a good look at Ryan. He looked much younger than seventeen. His blue eyes were bigger than usual, wide and innocent, looking for answers that Sandy didn't have. Sandy had never seen Ryan look that vulnerable before; it was always tough and passive with him. Not anymore.
"I know, kiddo," Sandy whispered. "It'll be okay though. I promise." He put a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan nodded, knowing he couldn't promise a thing like that, but also knowing that this was no time to correct him. He blinked back tears, and crossed his arms, upset.
Seth exited his room, clad in jeans and a black Nirvana T-shirt. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and sighed. Kirsten broke away from her father and edged closer to Sandy.
"Okay then," he said, eyes downcast.
Ryan patted Seth's back. Sandy put his arm around Seth's shoulders. Seth's back stiffened, but he didn't pull away, not wanting to hurt Sandy's feelings. He really didn't want comfort right now. He was scared that he might burst into sobs if all this love stuff kept up.
"You ready?" Kirsten asked, grabbing the doorknob of the conference room.
Both Seth and Sandy nodded in affirmation, though neither of them could honestly say they were ready. Kirsten twisted the knob, and the family entered the conference room, each of them scared, none of them wanting to say it.
Chapter 4
Seth lay quietly in the dark, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. He was crying soundlessly; there was no way he could let his mom see how scared he was. He needed her to think he was sleeping, needed her to think that he couldn't hear her crying, which he could. He knew that he was usually the spineless, wimpy one in dire situations, but he suddenly felt the incredible need to protect all of those who loved them from his pain. Who knew how bad this was hitting everyone else? He was totally disrupting the natural routine everyone had settled into, and he really didn't want to make everyone's life wretched and miserable. Seth couldn't shake the feeling that everything was his fault, that he'd just demolished the happy family of four they'd worked hard to build since Ryan showed up in Newport. God, he couldn't stop his mind from racing...
He almost laughed out loud. The one time he couldn't fall right to sleep...
It was just so damn crazy. He had leukemia. Cancer. It was unheard of. There were no diseases in Newport Beach, and Seth never thought there could be. Everything was shiny and perfect. When his grandmother had died of ovarian cancer that had been a fluke, a one-time deal. The supervisor who let that one slip by was fired. There could be no disease in such a happy shiny place with such happy shiny people.
He should've figured out that he was sick sooner. Things added up. He was tired all the time, he had noticed that he'd dropped a few pounds, his arms and legs hurt sometimes, and he got stomach cramps almost daily. Maybe if he'd told his dad sooner, something could have been done. Or then, maybe not.
Seth shivered, thinking of chemotherapy, spinal taps, and radiation. No hair. He didn't know much beyond that, but what he imagined in the darkness of the hospital room was horrifying. He sniffed. What kind of hellish nightmare would this be? Could he live through it? That was the big one, living. As treatable as it was- and Dr. Pearson had dropped in earlier to assure him that yes indeedy it was- Seth knew he could die. And rotting away in a hospital bed, bald as a cue ball, was not exactly how he'd planned on dying. In the sixth grade he'd had to write a story about his own demise. At the time he hadn't been bothered, but now the whole thing seemed morbid and disgusting. Seth remembered what he wrote though. He'd died saving the world from certain destruction. A heroic death, not a death where everyone looked at you with pity in their eyes and watched you slowly decompose.
God, it sucked.
Seth was startled when he felt a gentle touch on his forehead. He bit his tongue to prevent from calling out to his mother as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. He wanted her to hug him and make it better. But he couldn't let her see how scared he was. He didn't want her to worry. He didn't want any of them to worry.
He felt Kirsten kiss his forehead gently, and he closed his eyes, reveling in her comfort. He was glad that he she was there with him, glad that he wasn't completely alone, no matter how alone it felt with all of his thoughts ping ponging around his brain.
"Love you, baby," Kirsten whispered tenderly, obviously thinking Seth was asleep.
Seth waited until he was sure that his mother had sat back down in her chair before he whispered, so quietly that she couldn't hear it, "Love you too."
.
Kirsten closed her eyes, trying to sleep. She couldn't do it, couldn't stop thinking about everything that could happen. It was hard to be optimistic when the world was falling all around you.
It was all just hard to handle right then. Maybe a month from then, she'd be used to the idea of her son having leukemia, but right then she couldn't even try to wrap her mind around it. One day he was her goofy son, cracking them up at dinner when he was making his chicken legs dance, the next day he had cancer. Why him? What had he done wrong? He was such a sweet boy; he didn't deserve it.
Kirsten exhaled loudly. She shifted in her chair, trying to find an even remotely comfortable position. She sighed and reached out to grab a tissue from the box on the night stand. Her arm hit a glass vase, knocking it off the table. There was a loud crash, and she winced.
"Shit," she muttered softly. She crossed the room carefully, groping across the wall searching for a light switch. Her fingers finding it, she flipped the switch.
The room filled with light, and Kirsten got a good look at the damage. She groaned. Tiny shards of glass were scattered across the ground in a large pool of water. Limp yellow flowers lay among the mess. She approached the destruction wearily. Her eyes traveled up instinctively to check up on Seth.
"Seth?" She said quietly, seeing he was awake. Though his eyes were closed, she could see the tears sailing down his bright red cheeks and the slight trembling in his jaw. "Seth, sweetheart, I know you're awake." She paused. "Talk to me, please."
Seth opened his eyes. He gave Kirsten a tiny smile. "Hey, Mom," he croaked. "How's it hangin'?"
Kirsten snickered, perching herself on the edge of Seth's bed. She wiped a tear from his cheek with her thumb.
"You want to talk about this?" She asked quietly. "I'm awake, you're awake..."
"There's glass all over the floor.." Seth trailed off. "It's like right out of 'Family Ties,' Mom."
"Seriously, Seth. I asked at dinner, you said no, you were fine."
"I was trying to figure out why the gravy on the mashed potatoes was bright yellow," Seth replied.
"God, Seth, stop. You don't have to hide the fact that you're scared. We can talk about this; make it a little less scary for all of us." Kirsten squeezed his hand lovingly.
"I don't want to talk about it," Seth answered, sniffling slightly. He wiped his face with his hand, sniffing. "Well, maybe kind of."
"I'm here to listen," Kirsten said softly.
Seth snickered. "I was hoping you'd have something brilliant to say. I'm fresh out of witty banter right now."
"Are you scared?" Kirsten asked quietly, running her fingers through his hair.
Seth nodded, his face scrunching up, more tears slipping down his cheeks.
Kirsten rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "Shhh...shhhhhh....it's okay to be scared," she told him quietly. She kissed the top of his head softly.
"I just wish I could know what's gonna happen," Seth admitted in a hushed voice. His face was a clear expression of all the emotion he'd worked so hard to hide earlier that night: anger, embarrassment, fear, and uncertainty. Kirsten wanted to hold him in her arms until they could find a cure for his disease.
"We all do," Kirsten replied. "But, hey, for once are you happy that we're rich, Newport Beach snobs? We can afford all this, no problem." She tried to laugh a little as she brushed a tear off of her own cheek.
Seth snickered. "How'd you and Dad ever manage to be humble with that assload of money? I mean, you have way more money than Julie Cooper ever did, and you're not even half as conceited as she is."
Kirsten gave her son a gentle smile. "I appreciate that, son."
"Do you think things'll be okay?" Seth asked, sitting up slightly. He swallowed. He didn't want Kirsten to know that he was worried, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know.
"I don't know what to think," Kirsten admitted, "but I know you, Seth. You're a strong kid. You can beat this." She bit her lip, feeling as if she'd said the exact wrong thing at that moment, though what the right thing to say was, she'd never know.
"I hope so," Seth replied weakly. "I don't exactly feel strong right now, with this goddamned bedpan, and the cretin hospital gown, the wheelchair in the closet. I feel like everyone's either gonna pity me or be afraid of me." His voice dropped considerably. "Not sure which one is worse."
"All that matters is us," Kirsten said firmly. "And we'll treat you exactly as you want us to treat you, no matter what. But we won't turn off our concern for you, sweetie. Things are going to change, and we all have to accept that."
Seth nodded. "How much do you know about leuk...my uh...my problem?" Saying the word was impossible, he discovered.
"Not a lot," Kirsten admitted. "Dr. Pearson would probably better for fielding these kinds of questions."
"Please. You just have a crush on him," Seth snickered. "Him and his crazy British accent. You just want to keep him talking so he can say something British, like schedule or something."
Kirsten smiled. She had actually been more focused on Seth than what his doctor looked like, though she had to admit that when he'd brought her a second pillow that night, she'd noticed how cute he was. Nothing compared to Sandy, of course, but cute.
"He's no match for your father in the looks department," Kirsten teased, ruffling Seth's hair.
"I guess massive eyebrows are a turn-on for you," Seth said, a quiet smile dancing across his lips.
Kirsten giggled. She kissed Seth's forehead again. "You have your father's sense of humor."
Seth clutched his heart in mock pain. "Why must you wound me with your words?" He moaned.
"Your dad is a very funny man," Kirsten insisted.
"Hah! That's like saying you're a great chef," Seth laughed.
"Hey!" Kirsten tried to look mad, but she couldn't hold back a slight giggle. She smiled. "You really are a lot like your dad. He used to look just like you, and talk like you. Always telling crazy stories, making everyone laugh. And he loved to make people laugh. It helped him cover up all of his pain and insecurities." She paused. "Just like you."
Seth nodded slowly. He knew bits and pieces of his father's past. He knew that he'd been abused by his mother's boyfriends as a kid, in every sick way possible, and that he'd been homeless on and off, running away and living in an alley behind a local Wendy's. There'd been pain in his life. He hated to think he'd be adding to it.
"And baby, I know you want to keep up a brave front for everyone else, but you don't have to around me, and you don't have to around your father. Or Ryan even. Maybe when you're around the kids at school, or other people you're not too close to you have to be the clown; they might not be the best people to spill your guts to, but we're your family, and you can tell us anything." Kirsten gave Seth a hopeful look, praying that he'd respond to her well. She squeezed his hand gently.
"Okay." Seth nodded. "Yeah, that's good. I'll try to come to you or dad or Ryan if I really need to talk."
Kirsten smiled. "I'm glad." She cleared her throat. "Now get to sleep," she ordered. "Tomorrow's gonna be a long day. You need your rest." She kissed his cheek lovingly, and patted his shoulder.
"Yes, ma'am," Seth said, saluting weakly.
"I'll clean up here," she said, gesturing to the mess on the floor. She grabbed Captain Oats off of the bedside table, and handed him to Seth, who smirked, and accepted it. "Where'd you ever get him?" Kirsten asked, wrinkling her brow. "I don't remember your father or me buying it for you."
"Grandma bought it for me when I was like, five years old," Seth answered, tracing his fingers along the horse's back. His grandmother had given him Captain Oats for his fifth birthday, right around the time when she'd gotten really sick. That had been back at the old house, with the porch swing and the faint smell of mold, the house that had reached almost mythical status in the minds of both Sandy and Seth.
Kirsten nodded knowingly. "Goodnight, Seth. I love you."
"Night, Mom." Seth closed his eyes, sniffed, and swiped the rest of the tears from his cheeks. "Love you."
A few minutes later, after the water and glass had been wiped up and thrown out, Kirsten looked up at Seth, and a smile found her face. His chest was rising and falling in an even, steady rhythm. He was asleep, or faking it well.
She reached over and flicked off the light.
Ryan pulled open the door of the house. He couldn't sleep, and even the expansive pool house was so small and stuffy that he could hardly breathe in there. One thing was certain; he couldn't sleep. Seth was his brother and his best friend, and everything Trey could never be. Ryan didn't even want to think about what Newport would be like without Seth.
God, he needed a smoke. Too bad he'd thrown all of his cigarettes out, after Kirsten practically forced him to quit. It wasn't that he'd had some kind of sick, chain-smoking habit. He'd only had the occasional smoke when he was under an extreme amount of stress, or after a fight. Now he was craving a cigarette so badly his whole body itched.
Ryan padded softly into the kitchen, looking for some kind of cigarette substitute. He froze when he saw Sandy digging through the fridge. He wasn't expecting company. He liked Sandy a great deal, but he really didn't want to talk about what was going on. He didn't want to end up crying in front of him, or saying something that would make Sandy even more upset than he already was. If he had, he would've taken Sandy's offer and occupied the other guest room, the one Caleb wasn't staying in.
Sandy turned, a container of ice cream in his hand, and spotted Ryan. Ryan studied his face intently. He looked like he'd been crying for a good long time, and his face was lined and worn. He'd never been able to figure out how old Sandy was until Seth told him one day. Sandy Cohen was the kind of lively, youthful man with just the right amount of mischievousness and amused grins to make him appear to be younger than he really was. Right then, however, Sandy looked old and beaten down, his normally spry and upright body hunched over, his eyes dead and bloodshot.
"Hey, Ryan," he greeted him softly. He held up the ice cream. "Want some?" he offered, pulling open a drawer and grabbing two spoons. He attempted a smile that seemed to leave before it even had a chance to make an impact on his features.
Ryan really didn't feel like having any. "Okay," he agreed quietly, shrugging.
Sandy got two bowls from the cabinet above the stove and started scooping and serving.
"Sit down," he ordered, gesturing to one of the counter chairs. "Chunky monkey, Seth's favorite."
Ryan grunted in response. He looked up at Sandy, who was totally focused on the task at hand, probably trying not to think of Seth, lying in the hospital....
"How you doing?" Ryan asked quietly.
"I'm all right, kid," Sandy replied sadly. He sighed. "It's hard, is all. Wish there was something I could do. You become a father and you automatically think you can fix every problem in your kid's life. Nothing that can't be healed with milk, cookies, and paternal preaching." He paused, sniffed, and looked off into the distance briefly. "I was damn good at making all the boogeymen go away." He shook his head vigorously. "This now..not something I can fix so easily."
"I wish there was something I could do too," Ryan answered in a tiny voice.
"My body hasn't stopped shaking since they gave me the news," Sandy admitted with a frown. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't be telling you this."
"It's okay," Ryan answered with a shrug. "I don't talk much..I can listen."
"Well Ryan, I did want to talk to you about this," Sandy said, sliding a bowl and spoon over to him. He replaced the ice cream in the fridge and sat down beside Ryan. "I tried to talk to you when we got home, but you disappeared on me."
"Sorry..I didn't really know what to say," Ryan admitted, scratching the back of his neck wearily.
"It's fine," Sandy affirmed quickly, mashing up the ice cream with his spoon. "I just figured it would be good if we discussed this. I know how you are; you won't talk about how you're feeling unless someone forces you to. And even then, not always." He paused. "I know you and Seth are very close."
"My brother."
Sandy smiled warmly at the younger boy. "And I know that all of this is going to change things..for all of us. I figure you need someone to talk to about all this. You're not going to want to upset Kirsten or Seth, you're uh, not with Marissa anymore..but me..you can talk to me. I promise." He caught the look on Ryan's face. "Ah, so you don't want to upset me either."
Ryan nodded, looking guilty. He straightened up a bit, remembering something. "But, you need someone to talk to too. I know you're really upset about it."
Sandy shrugged. Now it was his turn to look guilty. "But I'm your father. I'm not allowed to be upset."
"You are my father," Ryan agreed, that all too familiar warmth spreading across his chest again. "And you are allowed to be upset."
"I guess whether I'm allowed to be or not, I'm gonna be," Sandy replied, shaking his head ruefully. "But I want you to come talk to me if you have questions, or if you're upset. Look, I'm barely hanging on right now, but it's not going to help me any if you go around trying to be a big man, while you're torn up inside. So talk to me if you need to. Okay?"
Ryan nodded. "That would be good, I think," he said softly. "Thank you." He sniffled. "Right now though, I think I'll try and get some sleep."
Sandy nodded. "I think that would be best for both of us. We should be getting to the hospital early tomorrow morning. I'll let you miss school, but just for tomorrow. Don't want you to fall behind."
Ryan nodded, and the two ate their ice cream in silence. Ryan's eyes flicked over to Sandy, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. Sandy's body was trembling violently. Ryan didn't know what to say or do, and he definitely didn't want to know what it felt like to be in Sandy's shoes, how painful it had to be, how powerless he must've felt. It was hard enough for Ryan, and he'd known Seth Cohen for less than a year.
"You gonna be okay?" Ryan asked quietly.
Sandy gave a weak smile. "Stop worrying about me kid; I'll be fine." He cleared his throat. "Let me take your bowl." He grabbed Ryan's empty bowl and dumped both bowls in the sink. He gave Ryan a sad look. "If you want, that guest bedroom is still open for you. I made up the bed and everything." His eyes seemed to plead with him, telling Ryan that Sandy wanted him closer, as if by keeping him in the main house he could keep him safe, like he wasn't able to do for Seth.
Ryan considered it for a moment, and then nodded. "Thanks. I really..I really appreciate that." He rose from his chair.
For a brief moment the man and the boy faced each other, each worried about the other, mutually worried about Seth. Sandy took a step toward Ryan and wrapped his arms around him in a fatherly hug.
Ryan returned the hug weakly. He wasn't used to physical affection, but he had to admit that it felt good at the moment. Sandy was his father, there was no doubt about that anymore.
"Goodnight, Ryan," Sandy said quietly.
"Night Sandy," Ryan replied. He watched Sandy walk up the stairs to his bedroom, and he sighed, making his way toward the other guest bedroom.
Sleep was calling his name, and he intended on answering.
"Eat your breakfast," Kirsten ordered gently, poking Seth's plastic fork into his untouched home fries.
"I'm not hungry," Seth insisted, looking glum. "Besides, I refuse on principle to eat anything that looks like bat guano."
"Seth, honey, please. At least take a few bites, huh?" Kirsten begged wearily.
Seth sighed dramatically. He glanced up at the television mounted to the wall. A Spanish soap opera was playing on mute. His stomach rumbled and twisted. He was hungry, but he wasn't positive he could keep anything down at that point. The prospect of going home, even though it'd just be for about a week, excited him, but he couldn't seem to muster up any enthusiasm at the moment.
He brought a forkful of the liquid-like home fries up to his mouth, inhaled the revolting smell, and gagged. He dropped the fork on his plate and gave a sputtering, choking, cough.
Kirsten snatched the tray away quickly, setting it down on the table. "Sorry, kiddo," she said quietly. She didn't understand how the hospital cafeteria could have pretty decent food, but serve utter crap to their patients.
"I'll eat the Jell-O," Seth offered weakly. "Red, my favorite." He smiled.
Kirsten handed him the tiny container of Jell-O, and rubbed his head affectionately.
"Guess I'll have to get used to the crappy food," Seth said, sighing, resigned. "But that one nurse that came in here this morning was pretty hot."
Kirsten rolled her eyes, but laughed.
"Thanks for staying with me last night," Seth said, slurping up some Jell- O. "You must be exhausted."
"I'm fine," Kirsten replied quietly, thinking about how quickly her boy had grown up.
Seth put his empty Jell-O container on the night stand. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.
"I can't wait to get home," he told his mother. "I've been itching to play X-Box all day." He paused. "I'll just have to tear Dad away from Mario Kart."
Kirsten smirked and shook her head. "Dad, Grandpa, and Ryan will be here soon."
"You talked to them?" Seth asked, sitting up a little straighter.
Kirsten nodded. "You were still asleep. I slipped out and called them from the pay phone. They're bringing you a change of clothes."
Seth nodded, smiling to himself. He couldn't wait to see his father and brother. Now all he needed was Summer, and maybe he could forget about the cancer.
Maybe.
"You have to eat something."
Sandy and Ryan were sitting at the kitchen table, staring at each other.
"I will if you will," Ryan said quietly.
"Not fair. I'm the parent, I get to make the double standards," Sandy replied. "But really, Ryan, you have to eat before we go see Seth."
Ryan sighed. He didn't want to waste any time getting to the hospital, and he was sure that Sandy didn't want to either. In fact, he was certain that Sandy was just trying to be a good father and force him to eat, when his was really itching to leap into the car and speed off to the hospital.
"Look, if I grab a bagel and eat it on the way..is that okay?" Ryan asked, running a hand through his blonde hair.
Sandy nodded emphatically. "Get it, and let's get the hell out of here." He stood up, and grabbed the bag with Seth's clothes is in it.
Caleb was sitting by the door, tapping his fingers, impatiently waiting for them. He raised his eyebrows as they approached.
"About time," he mumbled. He seemed to suddenly remember how he'd vowed to put his disdain for Sandy on hold, and he swallowed. "Let's go," he said in a low voice.
"All..all right then," Sandy said, his voice raspy.
He locked the door behind them, and they set off for the hospital.
Seth shot up in bed as soon as the door opened. His shoulders slumped as he realized it was just Dr. Pearson, who looked annoyingly cheerful, like the kind of adult who tried to laugh and fake happiness in an effort to make everything seem okay. Well Seth wasn't buying it.
"Morning, Seth," Dr. Pearson said cheerfully. "Mrs. Cohen."
"Kirsten," she corrected quickly.
Dr. Pearson nodded. "Yes, Kirsten." He paused. "I understand your husband will be here soon."
Kirsten nodded. She glanced over at Seth, who seemed irked that Dr. Pearson was talking as if he wasn't in the room. She gave him a reassuring smile.
"When he arrives, I'd like to get you all together in the conference room. We can discuss the symptoms, and schedule treatment sessions," Dr. Pearson said.
Kirsten nodded again, unsure of what to say. It was all so overwhelming. She caught Seth's eye. He was scratching his shoulder nervously. He gave her a tiny smile that quickly faded into a frown.
"So, how are you feeling his morning, Seth?" Dr. Pearson asked, finally turning his attention to the patient. He consulted his clip board. "Your temperature's a little high, but your heart rate is normal."
Seth shrugged. "Fine." It was a lie. His arms and legs screamed out in pain, and his head throbbed slightly. And that undying fatigue persisted.
"Good," Dr. Pearson said, nodding slightly. "I'll be in the conference room, when you're ready."
"Thank you," Seth said, almost silently, to Dr. Pearson's retreating figure. He sighed, and looked at his mother. "When's Dad and Ryan getting here?" he asked.
"Soon, honey, soon," Kirsten assured.
Five minutes later, the door opened again. Seth felt a grin spread across his face as Sandy, Ryan, and Caleb entered. Sandy had a tight, phony smile on his face, but to Seth he looked dead. Ryan had a concerned expression on his face. He shifted his weight from side to side, looking uncomfortable. Caleb was his usual blank slate, looking stern and dignified in his business suit.
"Hey, son," Sandy greeted him, striding toward his bed and mussing up his hair affectionately. "How ya feeling?"
"I'm okay, Dad," Seth said, feeling vaguely edgy. Everyone's attention was on him, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
"That's good, that's good." Sandy's chin trembled slightly as he rubbed Seth's back soothingly.
Seth peeked around Sandy, spying Ryan hiding in the corner. "Hey, man. What's up?"
Ryan came around so he was standing next to Sandy. He held out his hand to Seth, who clasped it, smiling.
"How's life at the Cohen abode without me?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
"Not nearly as bizarre," Ryan replied huskily.
"I wouldn't think so." Seth smiled sneakily. "Play any Mario Kart with the Ample Eyebrows over there?" He wanted to talk more with his best friend and brother, but not with everyone else in the room.
Everyone in the room chuckled nervously. Ryan smiled genuinely.
"Ha, ha, ha," Sandy said wryly, but his smile was warm.
"Hey Grandpa, you think you could work a little magic, get me some McDonald's or something?" Seth asked. "All they've been given me here is miscellaneous squirrel parts and red Jell-O."
"I'll see what I can do," Caleb answered quietly. He settled into the corner of the room, not wanting to disturb anyone. He looked around, making a mental note to get Seth a nicer room when he had to check in for the longer haul. It was a private room, but fairly simple. The walls were a depressing gray color, the television was ridiculously small, and the walls were dull and boring. He wouldn't have his only grandson spending his days in something so unsatisfactory. He glanced over at Ryan. He was not ready to accept him as his grandson yet, and he probably would never be, but he didn't mind him as much anymore. He was a quiet kid, unspoiled, tough. Not a big nuisance, and helpful to boot.
Kirsten grabbed Sandy's arm. "Sandy, Dr. Pearson wants us to meet him in the conference room so we can discuss..everything."
Sandy nodded gravely. "Okay." He turned to face Seth. "I brought you a change of clothes." He tossed a plastic bag onto Seth's lap. "Come out when you're ready, and then we'll all go see Dr. Pearson together."
"All of us?" Seth asked, eyes flicking to Ryan and Caleb.
"I don't have to be in there," Ryan said quietly, looking downright queasy. His eyes widened. "Unless you want me to be, man."
"Nah, it's fine," Seth answered quietly. "Grandpa?"
Caleb shook his head. "I think it should just be you and your parents."
Seth nodded solemnly, closing his eyes. "Okay. So this is real." He sighed. "Wow. Well, all right. Let's do it." He ran a shaky hand through his hair.
Sandy squeezed Seth's shoulder gently. "We'll be in the hall," he said quietly. He looked at everyone else, gesturing with his eyes for them to all exit.
Sandy shut the door behind them all, giving Seth one last smile before entering the hallway.
Ryan leaned against the wall, his head tilted upwards, and his eyes closed. He could hardly breathe. He hated seeing Seth in there, when he couldn't help him. He couldn't be the big brother and take all the punches aimed at Seth. This was cancer; one huge punch that Seth had to take head-on, no help.
"You okay Ryan?" Sandy asked softly.
Ryan looked into his eyes and knew he couldn't lie. He shook his head. "I hate hospitals."
"Me too," Sandy replied quietly. "Guess we're gonna have to get used to being here," he added.
"I saw a pretty hot nurse back there," Ryan offered, cracking a smile.
"Well at least it'll be bearable then," Sandy remarked with an amused smirk. He glanced over at Caleb and Kirsten. Caleb had his arms wrapped around her. She wasn't crying, but that could change at any second.
"I'm worried about her," Ryan admitted, seeing where Sandy was looking.
"She's tough as nails," Sandy answered. "She'll be holding me up in awhile. She just needs some time to get used to it." He paused. "Everyone does."
"I'm scared," Ryan said quietly.
Sandy took a good look at Ryan. He looked much younger than seventeen. His blue eyes were bigger than usual, wide and innocent, looking for answers that Sandy didn't have. Sandy had never seen Ryan look that vulnerable before; it was always tough and passive with him. Not anymore.
"I know, kiddo," Sandy whispered. "It'll be okay though. I promise." He put a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan nodded, knowing he couldn't promise a thing like that, but also knowing that this was no time to correct him. He blinked back tears, and crossed his arms, upset.
Seth exited his room, clad in jeans and a black Nirvana T-shirt. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and sighed. Kirsten broke away from her father and edged closer to Sandy.
"Okay then," he said, eyes downcast.
Ryan patted Seth's back. Sandy put his arm around Seth's shoulders. Seth's back stiffened, but he didn't pull away, not wanting to hurt Sandy's feelings. He really didn't want comfort right now. He was scared that he might burst into sobs if all this love stuff kept up.
"You ready?" Kirsten asked, grabbing the doorknob of the conference room.
Both Seth and Sandy nodded in affirmation, though neither of them could honestly say they were ready. Kirsten twisted the knob, and the family entered the conference room, each of them scared, none of them wanting to say it.