A/N: Yes, another installment so quickly. Hopefully nobody gets sick of me. But as it has been said, this story is pouring out of me and I can only comply by letting my fingers do the walking…er, typing. To touch bases with a few, thanks a load for the reviews. You people are brilliant, and about to realize that most of your assumptions were correct (hmmm…they're onto me!). Oh, and beachtree, you are my idol. Seriously, you are my comrade. From what you've said my writing has gotten through to you the way I hoped it would. You're seeing the characters as I've tried to portray them. Your reviews fuel me, mon ami. If there's anything I can ever do for you, let me know. Cheers!
FADING – Chapter Four
Monday Night
Sandy closed the door to Ryan's hospital room as he entered the hallway and turned to see his wife a few feet away sitting in a chair perched against a wall. Her body language told him that not only was she angry with him, but also extremely nervous. Sandy could read Kirsten's expression like an open book after years of marriage and could tell that she was clearly upset and very concerned for their foster son. When he walked up to her, however, Kirsten's eyes narrowed and she glared up at him defiantly.
"What was that all about?" She asked, her tone confused and frustrated.
Heaving a sigh, Sandy put his hands in the pockets of his suit coat and stared at his feet, wondering absently when he would get a chance to change out of his work clothes. "What do you mean?" He asked lamely.
"You know exactly what I mean, Sandy." She replied lowly. "Why did you have to make a scene in front of Ryan like that? It's obvious that he's scared right now, you didn't have to order Seth to leave, his best friend. Or Marissa and Summer, for that matter."
Shifting from one leg to the other, Sandy shook his head. "Kirsten, what Ryan doesn't need right now are Seth's sarcastic jokes and remarks…"
"You mean you don't need his jokes and remarks." Kirsten jumped in, studying her husband's face quizzically.
At that, Sandy finally looked up. His expression was stony. "Fine. Is that so terrible? He's our son, Kirsten, and I love him, he's a good kid. But right now we've got enough to worry about with Ryan and I think that we should just focus on cleaning this mess up and getting him home." He said, raking a hand through his hair and loosening his tie. Suddenly the day was catching up with him and he felt very tired.
Kirsten's eyebrows knit together in confusion and she leaned forward, watching her husband's face. "What's wrong, Sandy?" She asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Sandy refocused his attention on the white linoleum floor. "Nothing." He replied softly. "I just want to take Ryan home, that's all. I don't like seeing him in here."
"You think I do? Honey, I want him home just as bad as you do, believe me. But this isn't a mess we can just argue our way out of. Ryan is sick, and until we know what's really wrong, he needs to stay here." Kirsten told him, reaching for his hand and gently tracing her thumb over his palm. "But no matter what happens, you and I have to be strong for him. Right?" She told him, kissing his cheek.
Pulling out of her grasp, Sandy stared deeply into her eyes, his gaze burning with determination. "But nothing is going to happen." Sandy said firmly.
Kirsten looked confused. "What?"
"There's nothing wrong with Ryan, Kirsten. He isn't sick." Sandy stated, blue eyes flashing. "He's going to be fine." He began to take several steps away from her, his expression lost.
Her eyes filled with sympathy, Kirsten blinked against the onslaught of tears. "How can you be so sure?" She asked, swallowing over a lump that had formed in her throat. "Sandy, I know this is difficult, but we're the parents here. We have to be strong; we have to be able to handle whatever Dr. Collins tells us, good or bad." She begged.
Sandy shook his head. "We will, Kirsten, because nothing is going to happen." He said again. "Ryan is going to be fine…he has to be." He mumbled before turning away. "I'm going for a walk. Clear my head." He tossed over his shoulder, and disappeared around the corner.
Wiping tears from her eyes, Kirsten watched her husband leave. Then, taking several steadying breaths, she braced herself and reached for the doorknob to go back into Ryan's room. At least one of them had to keep it together.
The evening ticked by agonizingly slow. After Kirsten had been the only one to return to the hospital room, Ryan taken in the sad look on her face and the absence of Sandy as a very bad sign, and his misery had heightened. Ever since Sandy had had heard Dr. Collins news about Ryan's blood tests he had been uncharacteristically quiet, and Ryan hadn't liked what he had seen in his eyes: Sandy was scared. If Ryan didn't know any better, he'd say that he was scared, too. But he would never tell anyone.
Kirsten had tried to smile and told Ryan that Sandy had just gone to the bathroom and that he would be back soon. But after an hour had passed it became pretty clear that their discussion in the hall had been a bit more serious. Ryan couldn't help but feel guilty if they'd had a fight. He thought that maybe Sandy didn't want to put up with him anymore.
When seven thirty ticked by, Ryan didn't think he could stand waiting much longer. Kirsten had remained at his bedside the entire time, even as he had dozed off and on frequently. Whenever he opened his eyes she was there smiling at him. Ryan didn't know what made her stay, but he was glad she did. His own mother had certainly never paid much attention to him when he was sick.
There was a knock at the door. "Ryan?" It was Dr. Collins. "I got everything set up for your marrow aspiration. I just need a few minutes to go over the procedure with you." He looked around the room as if searching for someone. "Is your dad around? He'd probably want to hear this, too."
It took Ryan a moment to realize who the doctor meant by 'dad' and when he did, he didn't know what to say. Kirsten, thankfully, answered for him. "Sandy just stepped out for awhile. Go ahead and talk to us now, I'm not sure when he'll be back, but I can catch him up to speed later." She said quietly, reaching for Ryan's hand and holding it tightly.
"Right. Well, it's a pretty straight-forward procedure. It won't take much longer than twenty minutes." Dr. Collins explained as he came into the room and stood at the foot of Ryan's bed. "What we'll do is…"
The door to the room opened and Sandy stuck his head in. His expression was pensive, but Ryan could immediately tell that something was different about him. His gaze was different now as he entered the room, clearing his throat. "Sorry I'm late." Sandy said as he walked over to the bed, locking eyes with Kirsten briefly and seeing her smile. He pulled up a chair beside Ryan and took his other hand, giving it a squeeze and catching his eyes for a moment. The look Sandy gave him was apologetic, but full of love and concern. "Did I miss anything?"
Dr. Collins smiled warmly. "I was just about to go over the procedure, Mr. Cohen." He said. "As I was saying, it's very standard; Ryan won't even have to be put under. Ryan, what we do is insert a thin aspirating needle into your breastbone. You'll be given a shot of local anesthesia at the site, so you'll hardly feel a thing. The needle will go into the hollow part of your bone and we'll withdraw a small sample of marrow into the syringe. All you'll feel is a pressure on your chest. Then you'll be brought back here to your room." He made it sound simple.
Sandy looked a little green. "Will it hurt him at all?" He asked worriedly.
The doctor smiled. "The procedure itself shouldn't be too painful. When the anesthesia wears off, however, the patient will feel a good deal of discomfort, specifically in the bone. Some swelling is to be expected, as well. But it all wears off in a day or so." He explained. "This procedure is very necessary right now, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen. Cancer or lymphoma are our biggest concerns. As soon as this is out of the way we can all breathe a little easier." He smiled reassuringly and patted Ryan's shoulder. "You all ready, Ryan?"
Ryan drew in a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be." He replied quietly. "Let's do it."
Half an hour later, Ryan was finally returned to his room, much to the relief of Sandy and Kirsten. When he was wheeled in on a stretcher they both shot up from their seats and stood by protectively as two orderlies transferred him back into his newly made bed. Ryan's eyes were closed and he was even paler than before, and Kirsten felt a hand clench her insides with worry.
As she tucked the blankets up around his chin she noticed the dressing they had applied to his chest peeking out from under the neck of his hospital gown. "Oh, sweetie." Kirsten whispered as she brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead.
Ryan moaned softly and turned his head to the side, facing Sandy. Taking the boy's hand in his, Sandy held it gently and stroked his foster son's forearm. "You going to wake up for us, kid?" He asked quietly, studying the ashen face. "On second thought, stay asleep. Nurse Kathy is going to come in here any minute and start bothering you again. I'm sure you don't want to be conscious for that." He chuckled.
After a few moments Ryan's eyes opened to slits and he stared up at Sandy and sighed. "…Time is it?" He mumbled quietly.
Sandy smiled at his confusion. "Its quarter to nine, kiddo."
Ryan brushed a hand near his chest and winced. "Feels like I've got an elephant sitting on my chest." He mumbled.
When Sandy cast a fearful glance in Kirsten's direction, his wife smiled at him and shook her head. "The doctor said that there would be a feeling of pressure." She reminded them both. Then she gazed into Ryan's eyes, lovingly sweeping her fingers through his hair. "How do you feel, honey?" She asked him gently.
Ryan frowned. "Cold." He whispered, and shivered as if on cue.
Sandy hit the call button by the bed. "I'll ask the nurse to bring an extra blanket." he suggested, rubbing Ryan's arm soothingly.
Within minutes Kathy appeared at the door. When Sandy explained that Ryan was cold, the nurse frowned but retrieved a blanket from a shelf in the hall. When she returned she draped it over her patient and began taking his vitals. Once she had finished taking his temperature her frown deepened and she turned to the Cohens. "Looks like his fever is getting a little worse. I'd better tell Dr. Collins." She said and turned to mark it down on the clip board at the foot of the bed.
Kirsten put a gentle hand on Ryan's forehead and sure enough, his skin was warm to the touch. She sighed. "When will we know the results to Ryan's bone marrow exam?" She asked hopefully.
Kathy offered a genuine smile. "Well, Dr. Collins put a rush on the cultures. They're down in the lab now. I'm sure he'll get back to you sometime tonight." She injected something into Ryan's IV and then turned to go. "That's for the pain, Mr. Atwood. Your chest is going to be hurting a lot more when you wake up."
"Good…something to look forward to." Ryan mumbled sleepily.
Sandy laughed. "At least your sense humor hasn't been affected by all of this."
Ryan's eyes slipped shut and he yawned, sinking into his pillow. "M'tired." He murmured with a sigh.
Kirsten brushed her lips across his cheek. "Then go back to sleep, sweetheart." She said quietly. "We'll be right here when you wake up." She promised, catching Sandy's gaze across the bed, sharing similar looks of concern, and fear. But also hope. "We love you." She whispered.
Ryan had already fallen back asleep.
Ryan woke up at ten o'clock that night in a cold sweat and panting, unable to catch his breath, and in pain. Sandy and Kirsten had been alarmed at his suddenly worsened condition, and called the nurse. Kathy had administered more morphine, jotted down some notes, and left saying, "just try to keep him comfortable."
Even with the extra shot of pain medication, Ryan had been too uncomfortable to sleep. His chest hurt so much that he felt as it were constricted even though he knew his breathing was unaffected. Plus his head hurt again, along with what felt like every joint and bone in his body. He didn't think he could be more miserable. Sandy and Kirsten hovered over him incessantly trying to put him at ease any way they could. Nothing seemed to be working. Not to mention the daunting thought loomed that Dr. Collins still had not returned with his bone marrow test results. Ryan didn't know whether the amount of time he was taking was a good or bad thing.
"Ryan, don't do that. You're going to make it worse, honey." Kirsten chided gently as she watched Ryan clutch at his chest for the fifth time that night.
Swallowing hard, Ryan allowed her to pull his hand away from the dressing on his sternum. "Sorry." He said softly, tossing and turning in the bed. "It's really uncomfortable. And can I get rid of one of these blankets? It's like an oven in here."
Kirsten smiled and folded down the blanket that was on top of him. "I know it hurts, Ryan, but if you keep touching it you're only going to make it worse." She warned, pushing sweat-dampened bangs out of his eyes. "And if I take the blanket off of you you'll only be asking for it again in a few minutes. It's the chills from the fever, sweetie. It'll pass." She soothed gently, watching as his eyes drooped closed. She hoped that would eventually be able to fall asleep. He was so tired and felt so poorly, and yet he was trying so hard to be strong.
"What time is it?" Ryan asked, turning to Sandy. That had become a popular question as the hours wore on. It helped Ryan take his mind off of how badly he felt.
Sandy didn't need to look at his watch. Ryan had asked the same question exactly two minutes ago. "Twelve fourteen." He replied evenly. As Ryan opened his mouth to speak, Sandy jumped in, "and yes I've called Seth. Remember? Once after you went in for the marrow test, then after you were brought back in here and fell asleep, and then again at eleven thirty."
Ryan's eyes fell and he sighed. "I'm sorry." He apologized softly. "You guys must be exhausted. You should go home, I'll be okay." He lied.
Shaking her head, Kirsten lowered her head to try and meet her foster son's gaze. "Ryan, you don't have to apologize for anything, you've done nothing wrong." She soothed, running her fingers through his hair and watching as he closed his eyes in content. She knew he had a headache, but would never complain. "You being sick is not your fault, honey. So I don't want to hear that sentence come out of your mouth again." She chastised.
"And we're not going anywhere, so you can forget about that one, too." Sandy added as he poured some ice water into a cup from a table beside the bed and offered the straw to Ryan, who drank it gratefully. "And if anything, you're the exhausted one. We're doing just fine. Don't worry about us, Ryan. We're just worried about you."
Ryan scrubbed at his eyes. "I can't wait for this night to be over." He muttered.
Sandy adjusted the boy's pillows and massaged his shoulders. "You and us both, kid." He told him gently.
When the door squeaked open, Sandy and Kirsten jumped. They had all gotten used to the unnerving quiet and their own company for such a long time. In an instant all heads turned towards the door to watch as Dr. Collins walked slowly into the room, closing the door behind him. He studied the family for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Looks like you folks have had a long night." He commented quietly.
Kirsten smiled at Ryan warmly. "He's been having a rough time, but we're doing just fine." She said, reaching for his hand and holding it in her own, her fingers wound in between his.
Dr. Collins nodded and tried to return her smile, but the look on his face was one of sympathy and remorse, and Ryan felt a chill run through him. When he felt Kirsten squeeze his hand as a reminder that she was there with him, some of the coldness surrounding him melted away, but the fear in the pit of his stomach remained. He knew that the news was not going to be good. But a part of his brain wouldn't let him believe that.
"Well, Ryan, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, I'm sure you can't handle waiting any longer, so I'm going to cut to the chase." He said finally after a long, cold pause. Pulling a third chair up to the side of the bed, Dr. Collins sat forward and regarded his young patient with warm, considerate, but terribly sad eyes. "This is the type of news every doctor dreads having to give…" He began, as if searching for the words. After a moment he took off his glasses and placed them on the bed, something he had done earlier in the day when he had informed them about Ryan's anemia, and Ryan knew at that moment that whatever the doctor had to say was gong to be very, very bad.
Kirsten sucked in a deep breath and suddenly pushed down the bedside railing and sat down on the mattress beside Ryan, an arm around his shoulder pulling him to her tightly. When Ryan glanced at Sandy he saw the same look on the man's face that had been there earlier: unhidden wide-eyed fear. He reached for Ryan's hand and held it tight. They waited for Dr. Collins to continue.
"I went over your marrow results over and over again, Ryan, just to be sure. But what I found…there's no way around it, son. You have Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. I'm so sorry."
Ryan felt as if everything else around him ceased to exist. He no longer felt Kirsten's comforting embrace, or felt the gentle pressure of Sandy's hand holding tightly onto his. Suddenly the pain in his chest was non existent and everything seemed to slow as the word repeated over and over in his head: Leukemia.
Cancer.
Dr. Collins didn't stop talking, and a part of Ryan listened, feeling detached from his body. "Your case seems to be extremely aggressive, it's no wonder your symptoms showed up as suddenly as they did. ALL is a progressive, malignant form of blood cancer. Your malignant cells have lost the ability to mature and function so they're multiplying quite rapidly to replace the normal cells. That's the reason why you lost so much blood from your cut today, Ryan, because the normal blood cells have been reduced in number…Ryan, are you listening to me?"
Somehow, Ryan must have nodded because the doctor started speaking again. "There's no apparent cause, which is the case with most leukemia patients. It's not unusual. It's the leading cancer in children, but it also occurs in some adolescents like yourself. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Ryan?" He asked gently
Ryan's mouth felt as dry as a desert and his tongue felt like lead weight in his mouth. He forced himself to lick his lips and respond. "Yes." He replied, suddenly feeling a wetness on his cheeks. Was he crying? He looked up at Kirsten. No. Kirsten was.
"Now, I don't want you to think that this is hopeless, because it's far from it." Dr. Collins continued, still wearing that damned sympathetic look that Ryan suddenly wanted to slap off his face. "I'm not going to lie to you. Adults with leukemia have a low cure rate, about thirty to fifty percent. But the goal of leukemia is remission, and that has a success rate of about eighty percent. With proper treatment, Ryan, I think we can all have the hope that you will get better, in time."
Swallowing hard, Ryan nodded, unsure of what to say. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? Sandy would know.
But when Ryan looked at Sandy his stomach sunk further. Sandy was pale and his eyes were wide and very, very afraid. Ryan had never seen him look like that before, and hated that he was the cause of it.
Dr. Collins sighed and put a hand on Ryan's leg. "I realize that it's very late, so I'm going to leave now. I know it's a lot of information to take in right now, so we'll go over the technical part tomorrow, Ryan. We'll have to discuss treatment, and…well, it can wait until tomorrow." He stood up then, putting his glasses back on and casting one last remorseful look at the Cohens before heading for the door. "I'm so sorry, Ryan. Try to get some rest, son. Good night." With that, he was gone.
When they were met by silence, whatever resolve Ryan had been holding onto crumbled and shattered; he had leukemia. Nothing was right. Nothing was going to be right ever again.
He hadn't realized he was shaking, or that he was panting instead of breathing properly. He hardly noticed when Kirsten wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug, her chin resting on top of his head as she whispered soothing reassurances into his ear, her tears falling into his hair. He barely felt Sandy's hands gently rubbing and kneading his back, trying vainly to get his painfully tensed muscles to relax. He didn't know how any of them were going to "try to get some rest" after that.
He didn't know anything anymore.
A/N: Wow. Where did that come from? I hope I didn't stress anyone out, that was major emotion. Well, it's done now, there's no going back. I hope everyone is ok…lol. My sister is visiting for her break and will be taking over the computer, so there's a good chance that I won't be able to update for a few days, definitely longer than I've been taking recently. So please hang in there, I'll post a new chapter as soon as humanly possible. Cheers!
Vancouverite
